Blackpink headlines Coachella. Squid Game wins six Emmys. Parasite wins Best Picture at the Oscars. They’re just the tip of the iceberg of the cultural phenomenon many Koreans refer to as Hallyu, or “the Korean wave.”

In the food and drink arena, there hasn’t been a sensation to those degrees, although they’re not too far behind. Many Americans love kimchi, a bulgogi bowl, and soju while grilling at a KBBQ spot. But these are still largely seen as specialties, not mainstream commercial products.

Carol Pak is on a mission to change that, particularly with her canned makgeolli beverage, Màkku.

Makgeolli (MAH-koh-lee, sounds like “broccoli”) is a simple alcoholic beverage made from steamed rice, water, and a fermentation starter called nuruk. Its most prominent feature is its milky white appearance. While it’s a name that most Americans have probably never heard of and will undoubtedly mispronounce excessively, makgeolli is one of the oldest and most cherished ways Koreans have been imbibing for some 2,000 years.

The farming class initially enjoyed it as a cheap but tasty way to utilize an abundant crop as far back as the beginning of the Common Era. Centuries later, Korean nobility started catching on and would drink batches made from higher-quality rice.

Makgeolli has remained a drink of Korean tradition and celebrations like the Lunar New Year, but has never meaningfully transcended into the larger zeitgeist outside of Korea’s borders. Kook Soon Dang Co, Korea’s largest makgeolli exporter, reported just about $10 million in global exports in 2022.

In the US, you can pretty much only find makgeolli in Korean specialty markets or Korean restaurants, and it’s usually sold in drab, 750-milliliter plastic bottles. These types of makgeolli will typically be loaded with artificial flavors.

Màkku’s makgeolli is not the same. “Artificial flavors are nonexistent in Màkku,” says Pak. “You’re supposed to taste the fresh ingredients.” Indeed, Màkku has an earthy richness that reveals an unmistakable freshness.

Màkku is cheerfully sweet but not cloying, and at an approachable 6 percent alcohol by volume, it’s a little stronger than a beer. There is a tanginess to Màkku, as well as a yogurty earthiness and velvety consistency that balances it out. It comes in a version with no added flavors, but more popular are the flavored varieties—passionfruit, blueberry, and mango—that are made with pure cane sugar and fresh fruit purees. The purees give the normally white makgeolli different pastel hues which are showcased when the drink is poured into a glass—something to watch for if you decide not to drink it straight from the can.

Before founding Sool, the company that makes Màkku, Pak worked for Anheuser-Busch, the beer industry leader in the United States. The company would have her travel the world to pinpoint trends in organic and fermented beverages. Pak says the job was perfectly aligned with what she already does while traveling. “All I like to do is discover cool bars. Whenever I travel, it’s around like, what do they drink here? It wasn’t so much about nightlife, but it was about discovering the beverage culture.”

While visiting South Korea, some friends took her to a makgeolli bar. Growing up in a Korean-American household in a largely Korean community in Flushing, Queens, Pak’s primary perception of makgeolli was that it was something older people enjoyed. The TV shows she watched would show grandparents sipping on it as they rambled about makgeolli being the secret to living a long life.

So while going to a makgeolli bar was not on her itinerary, as a beverage connoisseur, she was intrigued. And that experience changed her life. It was at these bars where Pak realized “there’s so much more to makgeolli.”

“I think it’s just not as big now because people just don’t know about it,” she says. “It deserves a place in the market.”

She describes how, around 2010, makgeolli sales started declining in Korea, leading the Korean government to incentivize consumers to drink the product so that the historic tradition would not fizzle out. In more recent years however, younger Koreans have been consuming it on their own volition, even devoting their careers to it. Pak estimates the average age of a Korean makgeolli brewer is now around 30, roughly half of what it once was.

Pak made the decision to go off on her own and create a new makgeolli brand that she could commercialize in the US. She wants to make Màkku synonymous with makgeolli much in the same way consumers think of Kleenex whenever they see facial tissues. She knew she would have to educate American consumers about the drink, so she developed the Màkku brand as a sort of Makgeolli 101. “If you’re going to have one makgeolli in the US, you have to make it approachable,” she says. “I’ve tried dozens of brands and I felt like this was an everyday, casual, easy to drink, delicious makgeolli.”

The fresh ingredients pop out. Màkku is unfiltered, which produces its creamy and cloudy consistency and allows the rice flavor to shine through. And though there’s rice sediment at the bottom that needs to be redistributed by gently shaking the can before you open it, the drink remains smooth and is not grainy. You won’t get bits of rice in your mouth, and the beverage stays delicate with a clean aftertaste. The carbonation resembles that of a beer, but more faint—just enough to keep things crisp and refreshing.

This depth to the body and flavor makes Màkku stand out in the US market. You won’t find sediment in most makgeolli sold in America; what is available comes across more like spiked juice. Màkku is also vegan and gluten-free, attributes not all other makgeolli brands can claim.

The decision to sell Màkku in single-serving, 12-ounce cans is part of Pak’s goal of making it a recognizable product. A Màkku can looks like a beer can, a signal that the drink must be served chilled. Not only does the can’s matte white finish make the drink feel premium while holding it, but it resembles the pearly beverage inside. The signature slash mark printed across the can is a subtle nudge to gently rock the can back and forth before cracking it open. (Directions to “shake gently” are printed on the four-pack’s cardboard sleeve in case you don’t get the hint.) The accent mark that sits above the letter “a” in Màkku is shaped like a cute little rice kernel, honoring the crop that started it all.

But where exactly does Màkku fit in the American market? How does one bring a product to the masses when there’s not even a proper place for it on store shelves? Initially, food agencies didn’t know how to categorize the product, but landed on a rice wine. (It’s not a rice wine.) Pak says the issue is that “there is no benchmark of what we should be. They just made us a rice wine because they interpreted our product as a sake.”

She reclassified Màkku as an unfiltered rice beer. To comply with US alcohol regulations, the company is required to label the product as either a beer, a wine, or a spirit. Pak settled for the beer category due to its similarities in fermentation, carbonation, and the way consumers experience it. This led to the largest commercial success Màkku has seen to date, landing in the craft beer section of Whole Foods Markets all around the country.

Pak is working on getting makgeolli a more precise classification here in the US, using a similar template to how the US Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau identifies cider as a subcategory of wine.

It’s not that makgeolli deserves its own subcategory. It is its own subcategory. There’s one retailer that understands the distinction. “The very fact that it merits its category in our store signifies our belief in its distinct identity,” says Shayan Pourmohamad, owner of Blackbeard’s Crafts in Los Angeles’ Sawtelle neighborhood. “I wholeheartedly believe in Carol Pak’s mission to bring makgeolli to the mainstream. It’s been delightful to see people from various walks of life develop an appreciation for makgeolli through Màkku.”

Some fine dining establishments have also begun to serve Màkku; it pairs well with spicy and smoky foods. The LA Japanese restaurant n/soto pours cans of Màkku into beer glasses for its diners but also serves the can alongside the glass so patrons can learn more about the beverage. When you drink it in a glass, you can see the rice sediment sticking to the sides as you sip.

“It definitely suits a clientele that wants something similar to beer but with a fruitier characteristic and a creamier mouthfeel,” says n/soto general manager Mark Nechols. “Sometimes people don’t know what to expect and end up being surprised at how approachable it is.”

Pourmohamad calls Màkku more than just a drink. He says “it’s an experience, a taste of history, and a celebration of craft.”

“It’s a very proud moment that we were able to cross over into the mainstream, and not just Korean markets,” Pak says. “Hopefully with the success that we see in Whole Foods, we will be able to get into larger, more national retailers.”

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