Father Emmett Engel, the Wine Making Priest

by Leon W. Kania

Excerpt from the Alaskan Bootlegger's Bible

Most cultures, including the Chinese, had some form of milk wine, i.e., kefir in the Balkans and koumiss (fermented mare's milk) in the Mideast. The challenge in making milk wine is in the conversion of the milk sugar (lactose) into a fermentable sugar like the fructose (fruit sugar) and malt sugar (maltose) we commonly use in wines and beers. We'll go into the recipes, but not the chemistry. Just accept the fact that we'll be dabbling in enzyme action to convert sugars just like we do in mashing grains to convert starch into sugar.

Now, the way the ancients got their enzymes and bacteria was pretty gross. They used calves intestines to kick off their brews. Rejoice! Far more appetizing modern ingredients are readily available. There are dairy digestive supplements for lactose intolerant people, those who have problems digesting dairy products. You just add a few drops per quart of milk and it breaks the lactose down into fermentable sugars. Freeze-dried yogurt starter separates the milk into solids from the liquid whey and wine or bakers' yeast and does the rest. No calf guts. Aren't you glad?

Alaska has had many colorful characters, but few to match Father Emmett Engel, the bootlegging priest. Until his death in 1986, the fiery Father defiantly operated an illegal milk winery at Big Lake, Alaska and pursued his dream of establishing his Casa De San Jose Monastery. Father Engel was quite a man, a retired priest from the Diocese of Whitehorse, Yukon Territory. He professed to follow a divine directive to produce his milk wine and not only ignored and defied secular laws which interfered with his mission, but on occasion was known to tap a trooper on his snot locker.

He derived his inspiration from a visit by the Holy Mother when he was 28 years old. He was told through another priest that he must make wine from whey. He quotes her as saying, "I have chosen this young man to make wine from milk whey which contains no fusel oil. I choose it as my very own wine." Father Engel explained that the devil reigns unchallenged in alcohols containing fusel oils, but without them, favorable effects would follow. Interestingly enough, the BATF tests of Father Engel's product showed fusel oil present, but only in minute amounts. The good Father did not accept the lab's conclusion.

Now Father Engel was not our run of the mill, sneak in the night bootlegger. Heavens no! He had an enormous yellow sign on the Parks Highway proclaiming his milk winery. He put out fliers saying:

Engel wine! Super fine! No hangover! Yes, moon over! Wine four years old! Much different!

He gave the authorities fits and ulcers. One enforcement official said that in 32 years of service, Engel was "the most difficult person I have ever dealt with." When cops and the revenuers raided him for everything from licenses, to taxes and sanitation, the good Father apparently lacked tact, using phrases like, "Where are your cloven hooves? Where is your tail?" and calling the troopers Roman soldiers. When verbal communications failed, Father Engel apparently reverted to nonverbal communications and on at least one occasion, "kicked ass" on a raiding party of revenuers and troopers sent to confiscate four barrels of his product. The case was settled in local court with a fine of $500 over the protest of certain officials who apparently felt that they had received well over $500 worth of nonverbal communication. The good Father continued making and selling wine.

It was good wine. I bought it and drank it. Maybe the dogs did pee on the dried milk sacks occasionally. I don't doubt that some mouse turds and an occasional mouse found its way into the vats. Adds body. Father Engel was not one to get along with authority, a bit eccentric and by his own admission, "I'm unusual, even to myself." But he made a good and wholesome milk wine with motives that warrant thought, not ridicule. It was a honey colored wine, hard to define or describe. It had a full body, not like any fruit wine, not quite like a sake either. It had a wholesome, this is different and it's good for me taste. When Father Engel left, he seems to have taken his recipe with him. He probably has set up on some cloud and is knocking a few halos loose on celestial revenuers. The recipes which follow are not divinely inspired, but when you try them, do so in memory of Father Emmet Engel, the wine making priest.