Toasting Brazil's humble spirit: long a symbol of national culture and pride, cachaca is gaining new popularity as a beverage that appeals across social classes at home and abroad.

As Anibal Luiz Gama presses the halved coconut shell to his lips, his nose captures the aroma of the crystalline liquid that swirls inside. Tanned and shirtless, Gama has a simple daily routine that takes place in a setting in the Brazilian countryside that's changed little in hundreds of years. Chickens scurry along the nearby dirt road; neighborhood children amble by on their way to school. The rippling sound of pure mountain water cascading from a small stream accompanies the steady clip-clop cadence of a waterwheel in perpetual motion. And, audible only to the most discerning ear, the continuous drip of sugarcane juice as it makes its way from an ancient press through a maze of pipes into fermentation tanks.

For twenty-three years, Gama has been proprietor of Corisco, a small mill and distillery that produces cachaca, the potent Brazilian spirit that's as synonymous with the customs and culture of its native land as tequila is to Mexico, cognac to France, and vodka to Russia. Technically a sugarcane brandy, the beverage is remarkably simple to produce. The juice squeezed out of cane stalks ferments for several days in stainless-steel tanks. Once fully fermented, the juice is distilled and the water content evaporates; in high-quality, low-production operations, this is done in copper vats. The newborn cachaca is then cooled and aged a few days in large hardwood casks. Within a matter of a week or so, the most basic cachaca branca (white cachaca) is ready to leave the alambique for market and the tables of millions of thirsty Brazilians.

With just three employees, Gama produces fifty thousand liters a year of four distinct varieties of the beverage, including a dark, sweet caramelized version and one made with the leaves of tangerine trees in the aging process, giving the liquid a subtle shade of iridescent, aquamarine blue. "We sell everything we make," he says proudly. "Corisco is a good name."

Corisco hails from Paraty, a region that has been an important part of Brazil's cachaca lore since Portuguese plantation owners began producing it over 450 years ago. Gama cites the good quality of water and cane and the humid weather Paraty is noted for as factors in making Iris cachaca one of the best in the land.

Today, cachaca is experiencing an unprecedented boom of popularity, both at home and abroad. Just as in colonial times, when the concoction made its way from the slaves' quarters on large sugarcane plantations to the master's mansion, this beverage of lowly origins has evolved from a drink for the masses to one that's found favor among all of Brazil's social classes. Whether in the country's trademark caipirinha cocktail, made with lime, sugar, ice, and a shot of cachaca, or sipped straight, the beverage wins over new converts every day. And creative producers and bartenders keep finding new ways to use cachaca, mixing it with and aging it in an endless variety of fruit juices, from abacaxi (pineapple) to caju (cashew fruit).

Making cachaca has also become a way for young, city-born entrepreneurs, retired professionals, artists, and other nontraditional producers to get a taste of the rural life-style, and be a participant in one of their country's most historic industries by launching boutique brands. Famed lyricist and music producer Ronaldo Bastos, known for his collaborations with singer Milton Nascimento, is an example. His Nega Fulo brand, produced on a small alambique near the mountain city of Novo Friburgo in the state of Rio de Janeiro, has won acclaim as one of Brazil's best new cachacas.

Cachaca by the numbers provides some startling statistics on consumption and economic impact. The Brazilian Program for the Development of Cachaca (Programa Brasileiro de Desenvolvimento da Cachaca--PBDAC) reports that the annual production exceeds 1.3 billion liters, with a commercial value of US$500 million. It's not surprising that the drink is second only to beer in Brazil for annual beverage consumption. According to the PBDAC, cachaca has become the third most consumed brandy in the world with over fourteen million liters finding their way to over sixty countries every year. Germany, for instance, has become a cachaca hot zone, responsible for about 20 percent of total exports. Brazil's southern neighbor Paraguay is the number one export market, accounting for over 25 percent of the total. Italy, Uruguay, and Portugal round out the list of top foreign markets.

Overseas consumption is growing rapidly as more cocktail connoisseurs discover the pleasure of the Brazilian caipirinha and the pleasure of sipping high-quality cachaca becomes more widely appreciated. With exports predicted to more than double by 2010 to thirty-eight million liters, Brazilian beverage marketers dream of the day when their beloved cachaca will surpass rum and tequila as a global favorite.

On the homefront, as many as thirty thousand producers, including uncounted thousands of clandestine operations, concoct up to four thousand distinctive varieties of cachaca and employ close to half a million workers. Marcelo Camara, in his book Cachaca: Prazer Brasileiro (MAUAD, 2004), a definitive study of the beverage and its role in Brazilian society, tallies some other tantalizittg tidbits. The state of Sao Paulo, he documents, is the largest producer of industrial cachaca, producing such brands as the massively popular and inexpensive 51, while neighboring Minas Gerais leads in the manufacture of the artisan variety, with over eight thousand operating alambiques--the vast majority of them small, unregulated operations. Camara reports that a hundred million shots of the drink are downed every day in the early evening when work-weary Brazilians loosen up after a hard day on the job. The average individual consumption of eleven liters annually tops the amount of distilled spirits imbibed by Germans, Poles, and Hungarians.

Cachaca's humble origins can be traced to shortly after the Portuguese arrived in 1500. The first sugarcane production in the Americas began in 1532 on a small plantation in the village of Sao Vicente, the first permanent Portuguese settlement in the new land, after the plant stock was imported to the colony from Portuguese holdings in the Far East. The colony's first sugar mill, Engenho dos Erasmos, was built in the town, and the seeds were thus planted for what would soon become the colony's economic lifeblood--sugar production.

The discovery of what would become known as cachaca was almost surely an accident. During the sugar-making process, cane juice is boiled. To keep the juice pure, the froth generated was removed and given to farm animals as a food supplement. Over time and with the proper conditions, the froth, called cagaca becomes fermented and produces a clear alcoholic substance. One day, for reasons that remain a mystery, someone, most likely a slave, sampled the juice and discovered its intoxicating character. Word quickly spread that what was thought to have been a by-product of little consequence held significantly greater potential.

By the end of the sixteenth century, distillation of the fermented substance was part of the daily routine on virtually every sugar mill in Brazil. The commercial production of cachaca as it is known today was born. At the same time, the economic value of the drink was becoming recognized, albeit initially for unsavory reasons. Plantation owners used it in measured quantities to steel fazenda slaves to the rigors of fieldwork. At the same time, slave traders began to use cachaca, much like tobacco, as a trading commodity to purchase new slaves. Cachaca also began to win converts in Europe and Asia; Brazilian sailors made it a habit to take large quantities of the beverage with them on long voyages. At home in Brazil, slaves adopted the drink for use during festivities, beginning the long tradition of associating the beverage with special events.

Throughout the years, cachaca has become as potent a national symbol as soccer and samba--a common feature of the cultural landscape that has linked the fortunes of a disparate populace, events, and traditions for centuries.

Linguistic theories about the precise origins of the word cachaca are many, but the most prominent says it was derived from the Spanish cachaza, a pejorative term used in Europe to describe Portuguese grape brandy. Another theory claims that at one time cachaca was used to soften pork meat, which during that period was known as cachaco.

Today, although the term cachaca is universally accepted, scores of euphemisms have been used over time to describe the drink, reflecting a wide range of regional customs. Author Camara has documented over five hundred words that have been--and in many cases still are--interchangeable for cachaca. Often, the relationship is obvious. Many times, however, the association has been filtered through a variety of sexual, folkloric, medicinal, and other connotations. Pinga a word that can be used for both wine and a drop, is still widely used, as is aguardente de cana--literally, cane brandy. Fifteen words and sayings use agua, including agua-branca (white water), agua-bruta (brutish water), aguade-fogo (fire water), agua-de-setembro (September water), and agua-que-gatonao-bebe (water that cats don't drink). A number of usages employ the names of other beverages and liquids, including azeite (olive oil), cafe branco (white coffee), cha-de-cana (cane tea), elixir, gasolina, oleo (oil), and oleo-de-cana. Students of sexual innuendo and psychology will linger on such expressions as virgem and lagrima de virgem (virgin's tear), mulata, mulatintha (little dark girl), negrita paixao (passion), filha-do-senhor-do-engenho (miller's daughter), obsessao (obsession), mata-saudade (sadness killer), mata-bicho (worm killer), and remedio (remedy). Music-related words include such obvious choices as samba and choro, while other none-to-subtle usages include injecao (injection), ferro (iron), and prego (nail).

The purveyors of Brazilian popular culture have long embraced cachaca as a potent symbol of their country's most intrinsic values. Whether such references evolved over many years in the hinterland or emerge in the artistic output of urban sophisticates, it is said that cachaca is Brazilian culture in a bottle.

"Cachaca, our honey, is a true drink, a beautiful and flavorful expression of Brazilian culture," wrote popular poet Ze Quincas. A folk proverb from northeast Brazil claims "there isn't a woman without grace ora party without cachaca." Quincas also expressed a widely held sentiment: "A swallow of good pinga is like true love. It fills life with happiness, making dreams reality."

When lyricist Dolores Duran partnered with bossa nova composer Carlos Lyra to write the song "O Negocio e Amar," she cleverly appropriated the earthy reputation of the drink to explore the breadth of romantic experience with the classic line, "amor com champanhe, amor com cachaca." The traditional Rio samba school Imperatriz Leopoldinense won the 2001 Carnaval competition with an original song that told the history of cachaca. "Cayenne, sugarcane, purple cane, black, yellow, and Pemambuco cane. I wanna see this juice spill out to the samba beat," wrote the song's co-authors Marquinho Lessa, Guga, and Tuninho Professor.

Some of the greatest names in Brazilian literature have also found cachaca to be an effective reference to set scenes and sketch characters. "He loved active perfumes, jewels and live colors, however, for him there was nothing like a stroll to a special spot on board, where into the freshness of dawn, he would sip at his glass of cachaca and smoke his Codo tobacco," wrote Aluisio de Azevedo to describe the central character in his novel O Mulato [Mulatto].

In one of his most famous works, Bahia of All Saints, Jorge Amado wrote, "The Santa Barbara Festival takes place at the market in the 'Baixa dos Sapateiros.' Much cachaca, a big capoeira tournament. It starts with a Mass in honor of the saint, and then all the attendees return ... and move toward the market in a noisy procession." In The Old Sailors, Amado creates a setting familiar to al] who ply Brazil's endless coastline in small trading and fishing boats: "He was, as the guest of honor, on the back of a saveiro, before a sensational fish meal, the clay pans launching an odorous smoke, the bottle of cachaca going from hand to hand."

Although production techniques have changed little in hundreds of years, Brazilian cachaca producers are today attempting to do something that until recently they passionately avoided--get organized. With the creation in 1997 of the PBDAC, the industry has undertaken to improve cachaca's image as a truly Brazilian product, as well as provide producers with the necessary technical and commercial support to promote their success both nationally and internationally.

Maria das Vitorias Carneiro Cavalcanti, a chemist, is chair of the PBDAC's board. "For the first time in history," she says with justifiable pride, "competing companies, labor unions, co-ops, and regional associations, representing 85 percent of the sector's national production, are sitting side-by-side to discuss a common project intended to promote and improve a truly Brazilian product with a huge export potential."

On a regional scale, producers in Minas Gerais, Sao Paulo, and other states have organized to help insure both commercial success and product quality. The Sao Paulo Association of Certified Cachaca Producers (APCQ), for instance, was established just last year to assist members in developing domestic and overseas markets and provide technical support. The group has also created its own certification process to establish and validate product quality standards. In the state of Pernambuco, nine associations of artisan cachaca producers are active.

A small Paraty store that's become an important part of the local tourist circuit since it opened its doors five years ago, the Emporio da Cachaca specializes in artisan, limited-production brands. Owner Paulo Eduardo Gama Miranda, a nephew of Corisco producer Anibal Lniz Gama, boasts an inventory of over 460 brands of cachaca, including the seven produced in Paraty and its environs. "There seems to be a new brand everyday," he laughs. Although most of the brands he stocks sell for US$7 or less, Gama has a small inventory of Havana, Brazil's most expensive cachaca, a line no longer in production. A bottle of the eight-year-aged brew is almost worth its weight in gold, currently fetching close to US$200.

He notes with pride that for hundreds of years, the word paraty was widely used throughout the colony as a synonym for cachaca and at one point in Brazil's history, the region produced the largest quantity of the drink in all of Brazil. And, accustomed to answering the same question from neophytes, he doesn't mind stretching the truth a bit to retort that "cachaca isn't a type of rum; rum is a type of cachaca!"

Gama also points out that, despite superficial resemblances, no two cachacas are the same. "Each has its own identity," he states, lifting a small snifter of his uncle's Corisco brand to his lips to drive home the point. "Each has a bouquet and flavor that is very distinctive."

Within the extended family of artisan brands, an increasingly important segment is being filled with niche products designed to catch the attention of demanding consumers. Events like a recent cachaca fair in Sao Paulo, featuring exhibits by individual producers, state associations, and equipment manufacturers is the perfect setting in which to test the market for innovative new products. Lovely young models in tight fitting black dresses proffer samples of the drink to purchasing agents who trundle through the maze of exhibits looking for something that stands out.

Camila Bontempo, representing Terra Vermelha, a new brand from the southern state of Parana, gets right to the point as she pours a small sample.

"It's smoother because it's organic," she says with a broad smile. "And, it's guaranteed not to give a hangover. We know--we've done many tests!"

Her associate, Daniel Wilkenfeld, adds the pertinent detail, providing insights on techniques he believes set true artisan production apart from the mass-produced product derisively termed "industrial cachaca" by its detractors. At the Terra Vermelha facility at Assai, Parana, where 100,000 liters are produced annually, quality control has been elevated to an uncommonly high level. "In the distillation process," he notes, "the first 10 percent is known as the 'head.' The last 10 to 15 percent, the 'tail,' is weaker, so we discard it. We only use about 70 percent--the highest quality." And, he quickly adds, the amount discarded doesn't go to waste; it's reused as ethanol to fuel equipment at the mill. "As it is a non-fossil fuel, it means that our production is ecologically correct," he states. "Also, 100 percent of our raw materials are used. The refuse is burned to provide heat for the copper stills."

The brand's biggest selling point, which helps justify its upscale US$26 price, is the certification the firm's output received to verify that it is chemical free and wholly organic. The Instituto Bio Dinamico (IBD), a nongovernment organization, routinely checks to make sure everything, from the sugarcane to the land it's grown on, is chemical free. Recognition of the IBD by the USDA and its European counterpart has helped Terra Vermelha gain a foothold in U.S. and continental markets. "Organic production in Brazil is very small, but we believe it has great potential," adds Wilkenfeld, who hopes affluent consumers will see the firm's cachaca as the equivalent of a fine cognac. "Of course, once someone purchases it, they can do with it what they want, including using it to make caipirinhas," he says wryly. "But we suggest it's best enjoyed by sipping it, so the flavor can be savored."

Not far away, another exhibitor sums up the spirit of today's new breed of cachaceiro. Helecyr Calmon Costa, a gregarious retired petroleum industry engineer from the state of Espirito Santo, has maintained an alambique for twenty-five years. His firm, Cachaca Cerejeira, specializes in limited, organic production and a ruby-red colored variety flavored with acai, a coconut-type fruit from the Amazon. As he hoists a sample of his own wares, Calmon brags that it's good enough to be a substitute martini. "It's the national drink," he says of cachaca with more than a little national pride. "So, we decided to produce only the best."

Mark Holston is a musician and journalist and regular contributor to Americas. He wishes to acknowledge the assistance of InterContinental Hotels in Rio de Janeiro and Sao Paulo in the preparation of this article.