9 My Own Vodka

My experimentation with making a desirable liquor took me from winter into spring. I tried first with wild grapes to make brandy, but the supply was too labor intensive to harvest and the taste was too zesty. With corn, wild rise, beans and barley in abundant supply, they became the final ingredients for my liquor. Without any yeast to buy or trade from anywhere, I had to make a yeast starter before I could make yeast for the liquor's fermentation process. But sugar wasn't available anywhere in sight either. So I resorted to grinding the corn down to a flour form, first added grape juice to make a mash, then day by day added flour and water of about equal value before the bubbly form finally took shape and smelled like yeast.

I then soaked and cooked my ingredients to a boil, cooled them, then blended in my yeast starter and let them sit for about ten days but stirred in between to ensure the temperature wouldn't be too high to kill the yeast. Afterwards, I separated the solid from the liquid and packed the solids into brick shaped paste, stacked them in kiln, air dried, then ground them down so my yeast powder was made. With the liquid separated, it was time to distill the separated liquid to make my own Vodka. I substituted metal piping with tightly wrapped wood piping for my condenser and distilled the liquid twice. When the final liquor came out clear and pure, I have finally made my vodka, or was it Chinese baijiu I made.

It was pure alcohol I made and I made sure that was what I made. At a time when there was no modern medicine around the alcohol would serve as the best disinfectant I could make for my wounded men in battle. To make it drinkable I went through another series of experimentation of dilution to the desired proof. I'd say it was around at least 55 proof, strong and full yet mellow at the same time. I was satisfied with the finished product, all natural and organic with no after taste. I could have aged it but there was no time. Now my liquor could undergo mass production.

The distillation room was steamy and filled with the alcoholic aroma. Oota came in with food for me. I must have been in for hours and forgot about the time. One day I would have to make my own iron wok so I could cook my own stir-fried food instead of barbecue or steamed or broiled wild rice all the time.

"Yao, time to eat." Oota handed me the food she prepared, coming naturally close to me.

"Oota, the vodka is finally finished. Try it." I handed her half a bowl of my finished product.

"This time it tastes much better than before." Oota has been my taster all along. The liquor was still pungent and strong and made her face flush as if with excitement. I watched her with content as I sat down to eat my food.

"Starting this spring you should organize the women and start making alcohol and vodka. I will discuss with Kitchi and others about how to sell our new product." I said. Oota took her coat off as the room was too warm and sat next to me. As she was drinking her fair neck and the top of her breasts showed through the vest she had on. I swallowed hard and almost choked on my food. Oota turned and looked up at me. Her eyes relaxed and inviting. A moment of stillness took place before I glided my hand up her bare arm to her neck. My mind went blank at that time as I all my blood must have rushed to somewhere else.

It was the moment I could no longer put off or resist, for what. Oota came on top of my lap, her eyes fixed on mine, her face ever expressionless but inched closer to mine, her hand slowly untied my pants, held my erected self and guided into her, into the moist caress. I held her up for a second to feel the long forgotten joy my body has had in my previous life before she sat on me even deeper...

Oot finally smiled to me for the first time and became my woman. It was a content look we all have missed. My eighteen year old body had it twice that late afternoon. I think I should thank my good vodka for breaking the barrier between us or between me and the world I was in.

In discussion with Kitchi and my men about the sale of distribution of my newly made vodka was difficult. The problem was it was too well liked and became too irresistible, almost like a drug. When the drinking got out of control and fighting incurred at my camp I knew I had created a monster. Come to think about it, rum made out of sugarcane from the Caribbeans was used by the settlers to trade with the American Indians to great disasters to the latter. An Indian hunter would lose his trophy and his gun because of the alcohol. It has created and remained a true epidemic to the 21st Century for American Indians. It was later concluded that similar to the Indians' lack of immunity to viruses like smallpox or malaria the genetic makeup of native American Indians caused them to be less resistant to alcohol and more prone to binge drinking. This disadvantage was greatly utilized during the colonial period of America to the significant decline of the American Indian's wealth, population and health. It generated a "historical trauma" that has further complicated modern day alcoholism and surviving Indian population in general.

If history can not be avoided then let me be the first one to utilize it, not as a drug but as a weapon for my people this time. After discussions with my men, Union City set up its first distillery shop. The alcohol it produced was first set aside as disinfectant for wartime use. We were also able to produce the Molotov cocktail packaged in small ceramic bottles and trained my soldiers on their usage. The explosions were unseen before and the Union Army has added a semi-modern weaponry to its arsenal. About the vodka, it became strictly rationed at Union City and its production heavily guarded as a secret for our young nation. Our nation territories naturally expanded significantly when vodka was traded with nearby tribes. By the new year's end Indian Nation occupied a territory that was at least 50 miles by radius and its population grew from one thousand to more than five thousand in an area somewhere bridging the south central border of New York with Pennsylvania.

Through inspections of our newly expanded territories, I was excited to stumble upon a few caves. I had found sulfur already, charcoal was also readily available, but potassium nitrate or nitrate or salt peter was hard to find or create. But I needed the latter to recreate black powder. When I saw the white crystallizing growth on the cave walls I became speechless.

"Chief, what's the matter?" Kitchi looked at me and asked.

"Nothing Kitchi. I think the Great Spirit hasn't abandoned us and we may still be saved after all." No steel, no machining, no matter. The explosive packaged into small ceramic bottles could make a nice hand grenade or in a larger package a powerful explosive the world would have never seen before.

All I needed to do was to blend the three ingredients into the right ratio.