david's web-log

Bottles of pisco (from El Comercio)

If you really want to get a Peruvian riled up, just mention that el pisco es chileno (“pisco is Chilean”). Caveat: if you’re among a group of Peruvians in the process of consuming pisco, you probably shouldn’t say it. Really, for your own safety.

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Pisco is a liquor distilled from grapes. As such, it is technically a type of brandy. The story goes that, in the 16th century, Spanish settlers along the Peruvian coast began to plant and harvest grapes for wine production. The best grapes were harvested for export, while lower quality grapes that weren’t exported were distilled and fermented to produce a liquor. Pisco was born.

Fast forward to the present day. Pisco has become one of the most important symbols of Peru. The “pisco sour” — a cocktail made from pisco, limes, sugar syrup, egg whites, and bitters — is an international sensation. I must concede that they are fantastic drinks; as one review majestically describes, a pisco sour is “like a climb in the Andes: drink it too fast and you’ll need oxygen.”

The famous Pisco Sour cocktail (photo from El Comercio)

Economically, the pisco industry as a whole has boomed in Peru: There are more than 380 Pisco producers in the country, 580 different brands, and current aggregate production of approximately 7.5 million liters of pisco per year. Exports to the United States have increased about two and a half fold over the previous five years.

But where money, nationalism, and cultural pride intertwine have lead to a fierce dispute between the countries of Chile and Peru over the formal rights to produce, promote, and sell pisco. As in Peru, the production of pisco in Chile also has a long and important history going back to at least 1830. Although not as illustrious as the history of Peruvian pisco production, nearly 200 years of tradition is nothing to scoff at. Moreover, although trade patterns are changing, Chilean pisco in general is more widely produced, exported and consumed than Peruvian pisco.

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On one level, the pisco dispute between Peru and Chile centers on a trademark disagreement over the rightful use of the “pisco” denomination. On this matter, there is overwhelming evidence that pisco was developed and initially produced in Peru. Historical documents place the inception of the use of the “pisco” nomenclature as a drink to sometime in the 1600s. The word pisco itself is derived from the town of Pisco, located on the Peruvian coast about 150 miles south of Lima, where the spirit was first produced. The name of the town of Pisco originally comes from a Quechua (an indigenous language) word meaning “bird.”

The dispute over the use of the “pisco” denomination has become a complex international legal battle involving hundreds of national and international actions. I won’t pretend to comprehend all the details. My general understanding is that Peru frames the pisco debate using the Champagne metaphor: Peruvians say pisco is to Peru as Champagne is to France and Port is to Portugal. The Chileans say that when Pisco was first made, both Peru and Chile were part of the same Spanish colony. There was even a time in the mid-1960s where the trademark battle became so fierce that imports of Peruvian pisco were banned in Chile, and vice versa.

Now, the Chileans are mostly urging the Peruvians to join them in a partnership to expand the distribution of both types of pisco throughout the world. The Peruvians seem to want the “pisco” moniker all to themselves.

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It should also be noted that there are considerable differences in the manner of production between Peruvian and Chilean pisco in regards to the type of grape, aging process, and water dilution. These production differences lead to deviations in taste, aroma, and color.

Differences also exist from a macroeconomic perspective. In Chile, there are many producers gathered under an umbrella of a few labels; in fact, in the National Pisco Association of Chile, there are about ten members. In Peru, on the other hand, there are hundreds of small producers –- most of them artisanal –- each with its own philosophy and label. This diversity makes the repertoire much richer: Peruvian pisco is hundreds of piscos at the same time. As a result of its more hands-on production approach, Peruvian pisco sells for approximately twice the price of Chilean pisco in the U.S.

Buying pisco in bulk in Ica. (Photo from Brian)

On another level, as one of my Peruvian friends has told me, the dispute is “less about Pisco and more about Peru and Chile.” Peruvian-Chilean relations is an academic field unto itself and, in truth, a very sensitive subject for Peruvians. The formative event in the history of the two countries’ relations was the 1879 War of the Pacific. The conflict resulted in a Chilean invasion of Peru, the destruction of various Peruvian buildings and cities, and a two-year Chilean occupation of the capital city of Lima.

The war left a deep scar on both societies involved and forms the basis for modern controversies over trade activity (such as pisco), the economy, territorial disputes, maritime scuffles, and, most recently, military build-ups within both countries. In Peru, I’ve formed the hypothesis that much of the current animosity toward Chile stems from (1) the war and (2) the fact that the countries have such similar cultures and histories, yet Chile has managed to accrue much more wealth. The Peruvian economy has grown rapidly the past several years, but Chile’s real GDP per capita is roughly 65% higher than Peru’s.

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Back to pisco. I’ve never been to Chile, but I can attest that the devotion to pisco edges on fanaticism here in Peru. The Wikipedia article “Pisco del Perú” checks in at a cool 11,600 words and contains no fewer than 61 citations. To give you a rough comparison, the Wikipedia article for the entire country of Peru contains fewer words and certainly less erudite factoids. My personal favorite quotation from the pisco article is the following gem, which essentially serves as a one-paragraph primer on anaerobic metabolism:

In the tanks, the chemical process of alcoholic fermentation occurs where glucose from the natural sugar of the grape is converted into pyruvic acid, forming an ester. Typical of yeast, the latter molecule loses the functional carboxyl group of pyruvic acid and expels carbon dioxide. The ethanol formed subsequently accepts two protons from NADH and released them at the initial stage of glycolysis, becoming ethanol alcohol for human consumption.

Was that necessary? This is not supposed to be a scientific article; it’s an encyclopedia entry on a type of drink!

You get the idea: Pisco is important; no detail should be left out — even molecules.

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I’m reminded of a story a friend told me about her time working in the city of Pisco. One morning, she arrived to the central plaza in Pisco and observed two separate ongoing rallies, each rally located in a separate corner of the plaza. One rally was to protest the Peruvian government’s lackadaisical response to the August 2007, 8.0 Richter scale earthquake in the city of Pisco that killed 510 people, injured many more, and left much of the city’s economy and infrastructure in shambles to this day.

The other rally was a “pisco is Peruvian” rally to affirm the true origins of the spirit. As my friend reported, the earthquake rally was a quiet and sparsely attended affair, but the pisco rally attracted a large, vociferous crowd that chanted, ¡El pisco es peruano! ¡El pisco es peruano! ¡El pisco es peruano!

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Pisco displaces the Chilean brandy in the United States

On a similar vein, my favorite newspaper article I’ve read during my time in Peru is headlined “Pisco displaces the Chilean brandy in the United States” (El pisco desplazó al aguardiente chileno en Estados Unidos). The article was published in El Comercio, which is probably the most reputable Peruvian newspaper, and it was written in the leadup to National Pisco Sour Day. The article goes on to detail how the export value of Peruvian pisco now exceeds Chilean pisco in the U.S. for the first time ever.

What’s so delicious about the article is not the content so much — although that’s interesting, too — but rather the hilarious yet subtle dig at Chilean pisco interwoven through the article. “Pisco displaces the Chilean brandy,” it says, but what it really means is that “Peruvian pisco displaces Chilean Pisco.” The phrase “Chilean brandy” is actually a dig at Chile, an intentional circumlocution. For everyone in the world but Peruvians, “Chilean brandy” is pisco too! And the thing is, this article isn’t from a random blog; it’s from the country’s most prestigious newspaper!

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Día del Pisco Sour in Surco (From Visor Perú on Flickr)

It’s as if the driving force for the country’s current trajectory is less Catholicism, Andeanism, or imperialism and more, well, piscoism. I say this a bit tongue-in-cheek; certainly, the power of the Catholic Church outweighs the power of pisco. But, I think, pisco does represent something very important here — the fierce undercurrent of pride Peruvians feel for their country, a desperate desire for international validation of a distinctly Peruvian symbol, and, perhaps, a metaphor for Peru’s economic and cultural rise onto the world stage.

After a few pisco sours, even the Chileans, I’m betting, might agree.