Search Results for: toji

10 Reasons to be at SPC NY in December

The next Sake Professional Course will take place in New York City, December 7, 8 and 9, 2015. Here are ten reasons you really want to be there.

Drip Pressing Sake

10. No sake stone remains left unturned. Every single aspect of the sake world is covered in excruciating detail.
9. Certification: you can become a Certified Sake Professional as recognized by the Sake Education Council.
Sake Tasting at SPC8. Just one more reason to spend three days in New York City in the late autumn!
7. You have been working hard, and deserve a break that is only three days, fun and educational, and that will serve you for a lifetime.
6. The 1200 or so folks that have already taken the course across the past 11 years have good things to say about it.
5. It is organized, flows logically, and manages to get a massive amount of sake information internalized in three short days.
4. You’ll learn about koji, toji, yamahai, kimoto and muroku nama genshu – and taste them all! (Well, not the toji…)
3. It is the last Sake Professional Course to be offered in 2015 – and the next stateside course will not be SPC Classuntil next April!
2. This course opens the door to a lifelong romance with what is easily the world’s most interesting and steeped-in-culture drink.
1. You will taste upwards of 90 (count ‘em!) sake across three days. Nowhere else can you get exposed to so many in a focused environment.

Learn more about the course here 
Read testimonials from those that have taken in in the past here
To sign up, or if you have any questions, please send an email to sakeguy@gol.com .

 

 

 

 

Sake Buzzwords Worth Remembering

Wooden Koshiki on its side

As we all move gleefully toward the inevitable World Sake Domination era, there are a handful of words that it would behoove us all to remember. And in truth, it is not all that hard to learn a few words outside our native language; it can be fun, and people do it all the time for other beverages and areas of interest.

So here are a handful of words you will see popping up again and again in the ever-increasing coverage about sake. Let’s keep it fairly simple: three sets of three words: must knowshould know, and helps to know.

“Must know” words:

1. Kura: Sake is brewed in a kura. Sure, we could use the word brewery, but the sake brewing Drip Pressing Sake process is different enough from the beer brewing process to justify it’s own word. Winery and distillery certainly do not apply, and while factory may apply in some cases, the term in Japanese is kura. The word sakery is a silly abomination. Note that this word (kura) can have other meanings (albeit with different characters, such as storehouse), and when it is necessary to differentiate a sake kura from another type of kura, the word sake and kura are put together, at which time the e sound of sake becomes an a: sakagura. Kura and sakagura can be used interchangeably.

2. Toji: A master-brewer. Behind every good sake is a good toji. The history, cultural lore, and stories of toji and their guilds can fill books and long discussions (while sipping sake). More artists and craftsmen/craftswomen than technicians, toji meld experience and intuition to guide and coax koji, yeast and rice into subtle and complex manifestations. Really, the importance of having a good toji at the reigns cannot be over-emphasized.

Rice just before harvest

3. Seimai-buai (pronounced “say my boo eye”): The milling rate of rice, i.e. how much the rice has been milled before brewing. In general, the more the rice has been milled, the better the sake. Well… technically anyway. Preferences skew that assessment.

Note, the number is a bit counter-intuitive in that it expresses how much remains after milling, NOT how much was milled away. (It’s just the way the math works in the definition; no conspiracy here.) So a sake made with a rice that has a seimai buai of 45% means that the outer 55% was milled away before brewing, leaving the inner 45% behind. This is well worth remembering.

“Should know” words:

1. Kurabito: A brewer, one that works under a toji in a kura. The word literally means “person of the brewery.”

2. Koku: A traditional unit of sake equaling 180 liters. Why is this important? Because although Moto Making all kura will communicate with the government in liters and kiloliters, they speak to everyone else in koku. A very small kura, of which there are hundreds and hundreds, might make 700 to a thousand koku a year. I myself cannot assess things in kiloliters; when I look around a brewery, and count the number of kurabito, and ask how much they brew in a year, if the number comes back in kiloliters, I need to translate that into koku to get a feel for the numbers. Note, one koku equals exactly 100 of those large 1.8 liter bottles. Also, although it is the stuff of another article, originally a koku was a unit of rice used as payment and tax in Japan’s feudal days.

3. Nihonshu: the word “sake” in Japanese can refer to all alcoholic beverages as well as the rice-based brew we all know and love. When it is necessary to differentiate, the word nihonshu is used. As a bonus, the word “seishu” is the word used for sake in official legal definitions. So: sake = nihonshu = seishu.

“Helps to know” words:

1. Kuramoto: A nebulous term that can refer to either the company owning a kura, or the president of that company. Useful when talking about the people behind a particular kura, like their personality, philosophy of brewing, or their history.

2. Nihonshu-do: The specific gravity of a sake, also known as the SMV (Sake Meter Value) in English. Usually between -4 and +12, it vaguely indicates the sweetness or dryness of sake. Very vaguely. Like, really very vaguely. Just remember: Higher is dryer. It is very commonly seen on sake labels these days, either as Nihonshu-do or SMV.

3. Nama: Nama means raw, or unprocessed, or that nothing has been done to the thing in Sake Confidential Imagequestion. When dealing with sake, nama means unpasteurized. More formally, the term nama-zake means unpasteurized sake. Note, way over 99% of all sake has been pasteurized. Nama-zake is not better than pasteurized sake, just a bit different. Also, nama must be kept refrigerated or its chances of spoiling are high. Not guaranteed; just high. As such, very little namazake gets out of Japan, as it is hard to care for and ensure that no one along a distribution channel mishandles it.

And there you have it. Three sets of three Japanese words that help make the sake world unique, easier to understand, and more enjoyable. As sake becomes more popular and appreciated, it will need a self-supporting culture and presence surrounding it, and these few words will contribute to that.

Sake Professional Course – June 1 -3 – Las Vegas, Nevada

JG_SPC-3SPCThe next Sake Professional Course will take place Monday June 1 to Wednesday June 3, at the MGM Grand Hotel in Las Vegas, Nevada. It is, quite simply, the most thorough sake education available today. “No sake stone remains left unturned.” Learn more here .

– See more at: http://sake-world.com/wordpress/?p=433#sthash.eCvz4Xbf.dpuf

Brewing Beginnings of Autumn

It all begins again…

Fall has fully entrenched itself, complete with its colors, cooler weather, and culinary delights. It is also the most significant time of the year for the sake world: the brewing season is about to begin.

fallleavesExcept for a few dozen brewing factories operated by the largest sake brewing companies, sake is brewed in the colder months, generally from the end of October to the beginning of April, give or take a few weeks each way. Sake fermentation takes place at lower temperatures, and as such cannot be sustained during other times of the year. Larger brewers have facilities that keep fermenting tanks cold all year round, and although the quality of sake brewed in such facilities can be just as high, breweries with these facilities constitute the exception and not the rule.

Historically, tor taxation and accounting purposes, the sake-brewing year began October 1st of each year. (Currently, it is actually July 1.) Although this has always been the most practical time to begin, the shogun made it official in 1798 by dictating that no sake brewing was permitted before the Autumn Equinox. Stipends to samurai and taxes were paid in rice, and sake was brewed with what was left. Hey, first things first.

Much has changed over the last several centuries, yet much has remained the same. There are a number of *then and now* comparisons that can be made.

JG_SPC-23One thing that has not changed much is the connection between sake brewing and Japan’s indigenous religion, Shinto. Almost every brewery in the country has a small Shinto shrine on the grounds, and often a larger one nearby the brewery. At the beginning of the brewing season, the brewers, owner and other employees will gather with a priest for a ceremony to pray for a successful and safe brewing season. This takes place at even the largest breweries, amidst gleaming, modern equipment.

Until a scant few years ago, kurabito (brewers) and toji (brewmasters) were almost exclusively farmers from the rice-growing countryside with no work in the winter. They would travel a fair distance from their homes and live in the brewery throughout the six month brewing season. This is an integral part of how the culture of the sake world developed.

image41370_thumbnailTo some degree, this is still the case today. Most brewing personnel are fairly advanced in age, and still make the trek each season to live away from home. But things are indeed rapidly changing. It has become painfully obvious to the industry that young blood is desperately needed. As such, most places now use some local people as brewers, normal folk that go home at night to their families and in a few instances even punch a time clock.

Most kura actually use a bit of a hybrid system, in which the oldest and most experienced brewers and the toji are experienced journeymen from the countryside living in the brewery, but the heirs apparent, the next generation of brewers, are young and local. It is a phase of transition to the future of sake.

Still, many young brewers find it difficult to relate to their older sempai, and quit under the pressure of the harsh, feudalistic treatment of old.

The presence of women in the brewery is another interesting then-and-now comparison. Until quite recently, the presence of women in the brewery was anathema. Bizarre beliefs (or excuses expressed as such) dictated that the mere presence of a female amidst the fermenting tanks would cause all kinds of problems, both technical and psychological.

While many older male brewers still have some resistance to women in the kura today, many breweries have women helping in the day to day brewing tasks. There are even a handful of toji that are women (23 as of last year).

P3090055Young or old, male or female, any day now the brewers will gather at their brewery and begin the arduous task of preparing for the season. The first couple of weeks involve nothing but cleaning. Sanitation is paramount, especially with the open fermentation methods of sake brewing. Everything will be scrubbed, cleaned and sanitized.

Soon after, the milling of rice will begin, followed soon thereafter by the first batches of sake. Brewing begins with lower grades of sake. As the weather becomes progressively colder, higher grades of sake will be brewed, with the ginjo-shu brewing period peaking in January and February.

The inside of today’s sake breweries also contain a mix of ancient and modern. Much of the equipment is modern, things like boilers, fermentation tanks, and even the occasional computer. But much remains as it was long ago.

Most brewery buildings themselves are old, classic studies in Japanese architecture. Many of the brewing tools remain rudimentary. There are plenty of bamboo poles and brushes, and other implements fashioned from traditional materials, as they have yet to be bested by modern counterparts.tobiniriYet, mixed in with these tools of old are modern gadgets, everything from temperature sensors and automatic mixers to full-on koji making machines and conveyor belt driven continuous rice steamers. Each kura draws their own line on how much automation to use.

Regardless, this time of the year holds great significance in the traditional sake-brewing world. And so, as the centuries-old traditional cycle begins again, let’s all hope for another safe and successful season.

                                                       酒 酒 酒

JG_SPC-18The next Sake Professional Course will take place in San Francisco on December 8 to 10. Learn more here.

Meanwhile, the next Sake Professional Course in Japan will take place January 26 to 30, 2015. Learn more here.

Feel free to email me with questions about either!

– See more at the Sake Professional Course!

Regionality in sake

Sake “Appellations”: Regional Distinction in the Sake World

Does sake have regional character, or “regionality?”

Indeed, it does, but it is not nearly as clearly expressed as that of the wine world. Many prefectures have very apparent regional styles, yet some prefectures have none to speak of, i.e. no real thread of similarity running through the sake of the region (even if much of it is wonderful sake in its own right). But there are enough tendencies and general regional styles to make it interesting and worth studying.

What affects and/or detracts from regionality in sake?

Within a given region that exhibits a regional style, perhaps 60 to 70% of the sake in that region conform to this style; the rest may be slightly different or at times completely so. While 60% is barely a passing grade, it is not enough upon which to base one’s study of the sake world, as is often the case when studying wine, and it leaves the door open for massive vagary, making it all so much more interesting.

The factors that affect regionality include of course the raw materials (rice, water), the climate, the traditional cuisine of the region, and the guild of toji closest to the region. Those things that detract from regionality include the converging and overly similar profiles of ginjo-shu, modern market demands and infrastructure, no INAO-type or AOC-type appellation laws, and of course, the fact that rice can easily be shipped, and indeed is routinely shipped far from its region of origin, which is a function of the nature of the raw materials.

Note, many prefectures are trying now to go back toward defining regional style with locally grown rice, yeast and other things. Also, there is no way the industry could practically go back to stricter laws, even if they wanted to do so. Note, too, that regional distinction is often more evident in lower grades of sake.

As a very general rule of thumb…

Looking at Japan, it appears to run kind of north-to-south yet kind of east-to-west. Bearing that in mind, sake flavor profiles tend to be tight, compact, and fine grained in the north-east, and as one moves further and further south and west, the flavor profiles get wide, broad, and fat. (There are also those that say sake is dry in the east and sweet in the west, but this rule holds true even less often.)

Note, too, that there are plenty of exceptions in terms of entire prefectures having styles that do not fit the region, and plenty of breweries within any prefecture that do not fit that prefecture’s assumed style. And, furthermore, there are a good dollop of regions that have no consistent style running through them.

So while the above holds true to some degree, and is worth remembering, always remember it is but a big generalization, and exceptions of every kind abound.

Styles of Important Regions

The main sake producing regions (in order of volume brewed) are:

  1. Nada. One third of all sake in Japan comes from this district of the city of Kobe in Hyogo Prefecture. Most of the big brewers are there. Why? Historically, great water for brewing and a port for shipping to Tokyo (called Edo back then). Nada sake is generally dryer, sturdy, even-keeled, not so aromatic, masculine.
  2. Fushimi, part of Kyoto city in Kyoto Prefecture. Gekkeikan, the biggest brewer on earth (actually, they might be number two now), is headquartered there. Good water and proximity by train to Tokyo. Soft, slightly sweet, mildly fragrant, elegant. Feminine.
  3. Niigata. Snowy, good rice, lots of mountains with clear water, and a great bunch of master brewers (toji). Very famous for very pristine, clean, dry sake. Perhaps the most popular place for sake brewing in Japan.
  4. Akita. Lots of coal miners 100 years ago, and tons of great rice led to them becoming a sake prefecture. Tight, compact but very well brewed and balanced sake with fine lines of distinction.
  5. Hiroshima. Soft, excellent water. Historically Hiroshima is an important sake prefecture, long famous for quality and technological developments. Soft, slightly sweet sake overall.
  6. Fukushima. Good water and excellent rice. Overall soft and billowing, subtle sake flavors, but really, there are a relatively wide variety of styles from this prefecture, with its three distinctly different climates.

Other prefectures worth remembering for the quality of their sake, if not quantity:

  • Nagano: Soft, light, often fragrant and very approachable
  • Shizuoka: lively, low acid, very easy to drink. Great with fresh fish
  • Kochi: very dry but with backbone
  • Miyagi: Similar to Shizuoka, lively, low acid, very easy to drink. Great with fresh fish
  • Shimane: Nutty, perfect acidity, slightly sweet aromas, often with pumpkin-like notes
  • Yamagata: Hard to nail down a style, but overall flavorful and fragrant, yet reigned in
  • Fukuoka: Big, rice-like flavors, but controlled and deliberate, with moderate aromas
  • Okayama: sweet and full, usually, but with exception

Remember that every prefecture except Kagoshima brews some sake; most have at least a little regional distinction, but not all do. And now for some fun with this…

Regionality in Sake and Quantum Physics

A basic premise of quantum physics is that at the quantum level, energy comes in the dual manifestation of waves and particles. In other words, depending upon how you measure it, energy can behave as if it comes in waves, or it can behave as if it comes in particles. While it should be one or the other, at the quantum mechanical level, it seems to be both at the same time.

There are “waves” too of generalities that are discernible in assessing the sake of many regions of Japan. For example, the wave of Niigata sake is light, dry and refined, the wave of Hiroshima sake is soft and sweet, and the wave of Nada sake is solid and masculine.

However, many of these factors have changed over the decades, along with changes in society and infrastructure. Local food is no longer limited to what was eaten 100 years ago, and the local townsfolk are no longer the only market for any kura. Also, unlike the wine world, sake brewers are not limited to using only local rice. And in fact, very often rice is shipped from one region to another. While this may lead to better sake in more places, it is certainly a chink in the armor of the concept of regional distinction. (Remember the “60 to 70 percent” rule.)

Also, with technological developments and their availability to all brewers, as well as the increasing need for product differentiation among good sake, many kura are producing sake that is unique, and decidedly unlike traditional local styles. The individuality and personal preferences of brewers themselves also have much more room to be expressed than was feasible long ago. And naturally, the media has done its part to extol the virtues and reputations of various producers and products from around the country as well.

What all this has led to over the past few decades is individual kura becoming well known for the sake they brew, irregardless of whether or not it is representative of region, or what that regional style might be. Many consumers no longer look for or ask for sake by region, but rather by producer. Erstwhile, consumers and aficionados might have felt and spoken about liking the sake of a particular region, but more often than not this has migrated toward a list of producers with identity and character that are mutually exclusive of region.

And this, as you have likely already guessed, is the particle aspect of the admittedly tenuous tie between sake and quantum physics. In other words, especially over the last quarter century, consumers look at a sake map of Japan and see particles, individual sake and breweries, rather than waves of regional style.

In truth, the parallels between quantum physics and sake do not run much deeper than that. But my point is not really the comparison of sake with quantum physics. Rather, I am trying to convey that while a few decades ago consumers looked at region first, lately they tend to look at individual producers for their preferences.

The people

Kuramoto, Toji and Kurabito

Men at Work at Rihaku Brewery

Men at Work at Rihaku Brewery

Sake is produced by the kuramoto (brewery owner), the toji (head sake brewer), and the kurabito (brewery workers). In economic terms, creating the product calls for land, finances and raw materials. The kuramoto is responsible for procuring these, while the toji is responsible for the actual brewing and the hiring and management of the kurabito. Moreover, since sake is brewed only in the winter, the toji and kurabito are essentially “contract” workers.

The Toji System

The toji, or head brewer, is generally associated with one ryuha, or “school” of brewing. These toji ryuha are tied closely to various regions throughout Japan, and there are perhaps 25 schools of toji in existence now. Each school has its own style, to be sure, and that style is evident in the sake they brew, but the differences between various schools of toji is not what it was long ago. Long ago, it was all quite secretive, and the methods employed and refined by one group were never disclosed to other groups. But, over the past several decades, toji and brewers from all over the country readily share information in their shared desire to make better sake.

Chiynosono men workingIn part, the toji system came about with a little help from the government. In 1798 the Shogunate formalized an economic system based on rice. In order to establish tight control, the government decreed that no sake brewing was permitted before the Autumn Equinox. Although not much could be done in the warmer seasons anyway, sake brewers now had to go into the boonies to get the farmers who found themselves with too much free time in the winter.

Toji for the most part are, in the off-season, farmers and fishermen. During the spring, summer and fall, they grow rice or work on fishing boats in their home regions. When the fall harvest is over, or the fishing season ends, there is no longer any work in their villages. This is the season when they head off to sake breweries to work. In Japanese, this traveling for seasonal employment is called “dekasegi.”

Chiyonosono men at workThe various toji schools are usually centered in the snowy regions of Japan, like the northern Tohoku region and Hokuriku region. Although the dekasegi system of travelling far from home for seasonal work was never limited to the sake brewing industry, the pay and status of sake laborers was always relatively higher than other seasonal labor jobs. In general, the competition for jobs in the sake industry has thus been more intense than in other industries employing dekasegi laborers. For more on toji schools, click here.

Learning the Trade

Doi fermentation tank

Doi fermentation tank

A toji basically learns his skill through on-the-job training. There are no texts, and the only way to learn is by watching. In the old days, no one taught anyone else by direct instruction; one was expected to watch and learn. This allowed one to develop a very deeply embedded and strong sense about what to do in each situation. As a result, if you gathered together 100 toji, you would likely find 100 different brewing styles. Indeed, the Japanese saying Sakaya Banryu was coined to express this wide divergence in toji styles.

In modern times, however, this system of learning only by watching has changed somewhat. Today, the government and toji unions encourage those wanting to become toji to formally study fermentation and chemistry.

A Typical Toji Work Day

What precisely does a toji do? Let’s look at a typical day during the high season of sake brewing. The toji, along with the other brewing craftsmen (kurabito), gets up about five in the morning. The first thing to do is to check on the state of the koji. Koji development is an extremely important step in the brewing process, in which the starch in the rice is converted into sugars. Koji is created by propagating koji mold spores (called aspergillus oryzae in English) onto rice. To do this properly, the koji must be mixed regularly and have its temperature checked constantly. This is the first order of business in the early morning.

Koji workersNext, toji check the status of the various tanks of fermenting sake mash. This mash, called moromi in Japanese, is a mixture of koji, rice, water, and yeast. The mash must undergo fermentation to yield alcohol, and the typical fermentation period lasts two to three weeks. However, premium ginjo-shu sake takes longer (usually one month) to ferment.

During the fermentation period, the toji will check daily the status of each moromi tank. This often means making a chemical analysis of the moromi to determine if various compounds are sufficiently present. But the toji does not rely purely on chemical analysis. He relies on his experience and Koji workerseyes to judge the condition of the mash. He looks at the foam on the surface of the moromi, how much carbon dioxide is emanating from it, the amount and appearance of the foam, and even the sound of the foam as it churns and bubbles pop. The toji call this “talking to the moromi.” It ‘s like judging a baby’s health by listening to the baby’s crying. Then, based on this information, adjustments are made.

For example, if the yeast is particularly active and the fermentation is proceeding too quickly, he may cool the tank down a bit to slow the progress of the fermenting moromi. Just how many degrees it needs to be chilled would be a decision based on the toji’s experience. Before there were any major technological developments, sake was brewed exclusively by these kinds of methods, but even today in the age of chemical analysis and modern technology, these skills are just as important as the analysis and modern equipment.

Men at workAfter checking on the moromi and koji, the toji eat breakfast. Following that, preparations are made for the sake that will be brewed that day. This includes washing rice, steaming large amounts of rice, cooling the rice after steaming, adding it to the correct fermenting tanks, and making koji.

There are usually several types of sake being brewed at any one time, each calling for different types of sake rice. Toji must be very careful to keep their rices separate. Also, sake that has completed its fermentation period and is ready will be pressed to separate the clear sake from the remaining rice solids to give what is called genshu, or pure undiluted sake. This process can take all day and last into the evening.

After dinner, they take a break prior to the late-evening check and mixing of the koji. They go to sleep about ten o’clock, with the same work awaiting them the next morning.

Today, scientific theories and systematic testing provide viable explanations for the fermentation process, and the toji craft has lost some of its “magic and mystery.” Yet, we must still admire the toji, for they are dealing daily with a fermentation process that involves microorganisms too small to be seen by the naked eye. Some of these microscopic organisms are floating around in the air, and although some are beneficial to sake production, others are detrimental. Just how to balance the effects of these organisms is something the toji does not with his eyes, but based on his experience, his sense, and his intuition. And in the end a great toji creates a great work of art that science alone could never achieve through automation. Making sake is indeed deep and complicated work. It may seem that a toji’s work is one of simple repetition, but each day he works with nature, not against it, to seemingly control organisms he cannot see, based on what could be called “the eyes of his heart.”

Decline in Number of Toji

Along with a general decline in the number of sake breweries in Japan, the number of toji as well is declining owing to advanced age, the lack of successors, and the utilization of mass-production techniques. The average toji age is 65. Successors are hard to find, as more and more Japanese youth prefer the excitement and opportunites of the big cities to life in small farming and fishing villages. The toji take pride in their work, but they also know it is hard work on a seasonal basis and thus in general they refrain from forcing their children to follow in their footsteps.The number of toji is expected to decline rapidly in the years ahead, but some kuramoto are working to remedy this situation. Some are moving away from “contracted” seasonal labor and offering more permanent employment opportunities. Others are attempting to automate certain operations, like bottle transport, which do not require a “handmade” touch. Some are introducing computers and new technologies to “simulate” — via fuzzy logic — the experience and intuition of the toji. Although many smaller brewers are experimenting with ways to combine automation technologies with centuries-old hand-made brewing techniques, their objectives remain quite different from the large-scale mass producers of sake. The objective of the small brewer is not to produce greater volume, but rather to continue producing unique “hand-made” sake with technologies and employment practices that ensure its future survival.

Famous Toji Schools

There are about 25 toji ryuha throughout Japan. The largest three are by far Nanbu toji from Iwate, Echigo toji from Niigata, and Tajima toji from Hyogo. Their names come from the old geographical names for their respective regions. As might be expected, Nanbu toji were centered around Tohoku, Echigo toji near Niigata and Kanto, and Tajima toji in Nada and Fushimi. Other examples include Akitsu toji from Hiroshima, Yamanouchi toji from Akita, and Tanba toji, also from Hyogo.

Although consumer demand has often come to dictate style more than in the past, some semblance of regional distinction remains. Sake made by Echigo toji is quite often “tanrei karakuchi,” or dry and clean. The soft and mellow sake of Nada and Kyoto is indicative of that made by Tajima toji, and Nanbu toji sake is generally simple, straightforward, but well pronounced; a personal favorite as far as styles go. Others recommendable for their distinction and memorability include the sake of Hiroshima’s Akitsu toji, and that of the Izumo toji of Shimane, albeit a bit harder to find.

As the number of kura (sake breweries) has drastically declined, naturally so has the number of toji in most ryuha. The number of Echigo toji has dropped to one-third what it was at the beginning of the Showa era, and the number of Tajima toji, the largest at the beginning of the Showa era, has dropped to one-tenth the number of members. Only the Nanbu toji have retained strength in the ranks, having maintained the same number of members for the past 40 years or so. This may be due to the training and strict qualifications testing provided. Amongst prize-winning sake, the Nanbu toji names are appearing with increasing frequency.

With the convenience of modern transportation systems, the toji are venturing farther and farther from home. They very often travel together with the same crew of kurabito (workers). For example, Nanbu toji and their merry bands can be found as far south as Kansai. They have come to naturally fill the voids left by the decreasing number of Echigo toji.

As interest increases in the factors that go into brewing good sake, the name of the toji, and where he or she is from, is often listed on the label. Paying attention to toji helps develop a sense for the particular styles and distinctions of the various regions.

Sake brewing process

Five crucial elements are involved in brewing sake — water, rice, technical skill, yeast, and land / weather. More than anything else, sake is a result of a brewing process that uses rice and lots of water.

In fact, water comprises as much as 80% of the final product, so fine water and fine rice are natural prerequisites if one hopes to brew great sake. But beyond that, the technical skill needed to pull this all off lies with the toji (head brewers), the type of yeast they use, and the limitations entailed by local land and weather conditions. Please visit the links shown above for a detailed review of the crucial ingredients.

Quick overview

Rice is washed and steam-cooked. This is then mixed with yeast and koji (rice cultivated with a mold known technically as aspergillus oryzae). The whole mix is then allowed to ferment, with more rice, koji, and water added in three batches over four days. This fermentation, which occurs in a large tank, is called shikomi. The quality of the rice, the degree to which the koji mold has propagated, temperature variations, and other factors are different for each shikomi. This mash is allowed to sit from 18 to 32 days, after which it is pressed, filtered and blended. This would be enough to get you through most conversations. But let us look at the main steps and processes a bit more closely.

Rice Milling

Imada yamadanishiki 70/35Note the white opaque starch packet in the center of many of the grains.

After proper sake rice (in the case of premium sake, anyway) has been secured, it is milled, or polished, to prepare it for brewing good sake. This is not as simple as it might sound, since it must be done gently so as to not generate too much heat (which adversely affects water absorption) or not crack the rice kernels (which is not good for the fermentation process). In the photo on left, the rice in top left corner is unmilled, the rice next to it has only 70% of kernel remaining, while the rice at bottom has been milled so only 35% remains. The photo at top right (with red background) shows rice ground to 50%. The amount of milling greatly influences the taste. For more on this topic, please visit Types of Sake page.

Washing and Soaking

Making sakeNext, the white powder (called nuka) left on the rice after polishing is washed away, as this makes a significant difference in the final quality of the steamed rice. (It also affects the flavor of table rice; try washing your rice very thoroughly and notice the difference in consistency and flavor.) Following that, it is soaked to attain a certain water content deemed optimum for steaming that particular rice. The degree to which the rice has been milled in the previous step determines what its pre-steaming water content should be. The more a rice has been polished, the faster it absorbs water and the shorter the soaking time. Often it is done for as little as a stopwatch-measured minute, sometimes it is done overnight.

Steaming

Next the rice is steamed. Note this is different from the way table rice is prepared. It is not mixed with water Kuji steaming riceand brought to a boil; rather, steam is brought up through the bottom of the steaming vat (traditionally called a koshiki) to work its way through the rice. This gives a firmer consistency and slightly harder outside surface and softer center. Generally, a batch of steamed rice is divided up, with some going to have koji mold sprinkled over it, and some going directly to the fermentation vat. (Photo at left: rice steaming in koshiki, or vat).

Koji Making (Seigiku)

Rice mold (photo by Kenji Nachi)This is the heart of the entire brewing process, really, and could have several chapters, if not books, written about it. Summarizing, k(LEFT) Koji being cultivated in small trays (Right) A grain of rice cultavated with koji mold (photos by Kenji Nachi)oji mold in the form of a dark, fine powder is sprinkled on steamed rice that has been cooled. It is then taken to a special room within which a higher than average humidity and temperature are maintained. Over the next 36 to 45 hours, the developing koji is checked, mixed and re-arranged constantly. The final product looks like rice grains with a slight frosting on them, and smells faintly of sweet chestnuts. Koji is used at least four times throughout the process, and is always made fresh and used immediately. Therefore, any one batch goes through the “heart of the process” at least four times. (Photo: Koji being cultivated in small trays, and a grain of rice cultavated with koji mold).

The yeast starter (shubo or moto)

Making ricePhoto at right: the moto, or shubo yeast starter, foaming away.

The moto, or shubo yeast starter, foaming away (Photo by Kenji Nachi)A yeast starter, or seed mash of sorts, is first created. This is done by mixing finished koji and plain steamed white rice from the above two steps, water and a concentration of pure yeast cells. Over the next two weeks, (typically) a concentration of yeast cells that can reach 100 million cells in one teaspoon is developed.

The Mash (Moromi)

After being moved to a larger tank, more rice, more koji and more water are added in three successive stages over four days, roughly doubling the size of the batch each time. This is the main mash, and as it ferments over the next 18 to 32 days, its temperature and other factors are measured and adjusted to create precisely the flavor profile being sought.

Pressing (joso)

Rice bagsWhen everything is just right (no easy decision!), the sake is pressed. Through one of several methods, the white lees (called kasu) and unfermented solids are pressed away, and the clear sake runs off. This is most often done by machine, although the older methods involving putting the moromi in canvas bags and squeezing the fresh sake out, or letting the sake drip out of the bags, are still used. (Photo at right: bags of moromi from which sake is being drip-pressed. Below Photo: a fune, used for pressing sake out of bags of moromi).

Filtration (roka)

After sitting for a few days to let more solids settle out, the sake is usually charcoal filtered to adjust flavor and color. This is done to different degrees at different breweries, and is goes a long way in dictating the style.

Pasteurization

Rice bagging itMost sake is then pasteurized once. This is done by heating it quickly by passing it through a pipe immersed in hot water. This process kills off bacteria and deactivates enzymes that would likely adverse flavor and color later on. Sake that is not pasteurized is called namazake, and maintains a certain freshness of flavor, although it must be kept refrigerated to protect it.

Aging

Finally, most sake is left to age about six months, rounding out the flavor, before shipping. Before shipping it is mixed with a bit of pure water to bring the near 20 percent alcohol down to 16 percent or so, and blended to ensure consistency. Also, it is usually pasteurized a second time at this stage. It is somewhat unfair to the sake-brewing craft and industry to reduce sake brewing down to the short explanation above, but excessive detail would soon go beyond the scope of this book. The basics are as explained here.

Changes Over the Years

Over the centuries, naturally there were many adjustments and changes to the sake brewing process. These arose to either make better sake, or to make sake more economically. Sometimes, advances in the economic forum also lead to improved sake quality.

One of the most important advances was the improvement in rice-polishing equipment. Originally, rice was stomped on in a vat to remove the husks. Later, water wheels and grinding stones were used. Today, there are great computer-controlled machines that will polish off the specified percentage of the outside of the grains, and do it in a specified amount of time (with longer being better). This minimizes damage from friction heat and cracked grains.

Another major advance was the use of ceramic-lined or stainless steel tanks, now the standard, over cedar tanks, which were used for hundreds of years. This has drastically improved the quality and purity of sake since the beginning of this century.

Then there is the pressing stage. Until the early 1900s, all sake was pressed by pouring the moromi into canvas bags which were then put into a large wooden box called a fune. The lid was then cranked down into the box, squeezing out the sake. Now, almost all sake is pressed with a huge, accordion-like machine that squeezes the moromi between balloon-like inflating panels, making disposal of the lees (called kasu) simple.

Almost all breweries will still press some of their best sake in the old way, using a fune. It does indeed make subtly noticeably better sake. But the accordion-like machine (called an Assaku-ki) is so much more efficient, and the fune so labor intensive, that the tradeoffs are only worth it for top-grade sake.

Most controversially, however, is the koji making equipment. It is truly amazing how the slightest differences in koji can affect the flavor of the final product. Traditionally, koji is all made by hand in wood-paneled rooms kept warm and humid. As this is such a labor-intensive step, many changes have come about, and a lot of them are rejected later. (It is interesting to note that almost all super premium sake like daiginjo is made using hand-made koji.)

There are now large machines that will perform part or all of the koji making process, doing the work of several individuals. There are countless manifestations of these, all attempting to imitate the skill and intuition of the human masters. Other changes include stainless steel instead of wood walls. The risk of the development of unwanted mold is reduced, but humidity is affected. In the end, there are countless arguments for and against these changes. Subtle changes in daily temperature and rice quality may not always be picked up by machines but, for example, sanitation can be greatly improved. Naturally, technological progress to some degree is necessary for the industry to survive.


SAKE CONFIDENTAL 

Interested in learning more about sake?

Check out my book “Sake Confidential” on Amazon.

Sake Confidential is the perfect FAQ for beginners, experts, and sommeliers.

Indexed for easy reference with suggested brands and label photos. Includes:

  • Sake Secrets: junmai vs. non-junmai, namazake, aging, dry vs. sweet, ginjo, warm vs. chilled, nigori, water, yeast, rice, regionality
  • How the Industry Really Works: pricing, contests, distribution, glassware, milling, food pairing
  • The Brewer’s Art Revealed: koji-making, brewers’ guilds, grading

 


SAKE INDUSTRY NEWS

If you are interested in staying up to date with what is happening within the Sake Industry and also information on more advanced Sake topics then Sake Industry News is just for you!

Sake Industry News is a paid subscription newsletter that is sent on the first and 15th of each month. Get news from the sake industry in Japan – including trends, business news, changes and developments, and technical information on sake types and production methods that are well beyond the basics – sent right to your inbox. Subscribe here today! 

Each issue will consist of four or five short stories culled from public news sources about the sake industry in Japan, as well as one or more slightly longer stories and observations by myself on trends, new developments, or changes within the sake industry in Japan.

 

Sake glossary

This page uses Japanese characters. To view, you may need to install the Japanese-language font pack for your browser.

Japanese
Reading
Definition

甘口
Amakuchi
Sweet in flavor

普通酒
Futsu-shu
Normal sake — anything without a special monicker

原酒
Genshu
Undiluted sake (most are slightly diluted)

吟醸酒
Ginjo-shu
Sake brewed with rice milled so that no more than 60% of the grain remains

火入れ
Hi-ire
Pasteurization

本醸造
Honjozo
Sake to which a small amount of distilled alcohol is added

地酒
Jizake
Sake from smaller kura — originally, sake from the boonies

純米酒
Junmai-shu
Sake brewed with only rice, water, and koji — no additives

辛口
Karakuchi
Dry in flavor

Kasu
The lees remaining after the sake has been pressed from the fermenting mixture

Koji
Rice onto which koji-jin has been propogated (see FAQ page, Q14)

麹菌
Koji-kin or Koji-kabi
Aspergillus Oryzae — a starch dissolving mold

Kura
A sake brewery — also known as a sakagura

蔵人
Kurabito
A brewery worker

蔵元
Kuramoto
Head of brewery

銘柄
Meigara
The ‘brand name’ of a sake

諸味
Moromi
Fermenting mixture of rice, water, koji, and yeast which yields sake

Moto
The yeast starter of a batch of sake — also, shubo

日本酒度
Nihonshu-do
The specific gravity of a sake — an indication of dryness or sweetness (see FAQ Page, Q16)

精米
Seimai
Rice polishing (milling)

精米歩合
Seimai-buai
The degree to which rice has been polished before brewing

清酒
Seishu
The official name (as far as taxes are concerned) for sake

焼酎
Shochu
A traditional Japanese distilled beverage

酒母
Shubo
The yeast starter for a batch of sake

杜氏
Toji
The head brewer at a kura

Yields from Fields: How much sake from a parcel of land?

chikurin20080711_1Have you ever looked over a golden brocade of ready-for-harvest rice andand wonder how many bottles of sake could be made from it? Maybe not. Regardless, it is not an easy question to answer, because there are so many variables involved.

The first of these variables is the typical yields a given strain of rice will provide versus another. Some varieties might yield only 450 kilograms of rice per hundred-square meters, whereas another might yields as much as 600 kg or more. That alone is a 33 percent difference.

Next consider milling. If a sake is made with rice milled down to only 88 percent, i.e. discarding but 22 percent of the rice, it has a big-ass head start on yields over a sake made with rice milled down to 35 percent, wherein 65 percent of the raw material is cast aside.

Then there are the steps of the brewing process. For example, how far is fermentation allowed to proceed? Fermenting until every last starch molecule has been converted to sugar, and that subsequently to alcohol, will lead to much more sake for a given amount of rice than stopping fermentation earlier. Furthermore, we need to ask how hard was the fermenting mash compressed to squeeze out the resulting sake after fermentation.

toji-mixing-it-upFermenting further and pressing it harder will lead to more sake! But fermenting to the bitter end and then squeezing out every last drop of yield takes a huge toll on quality. Also, whether or not alcohol is added – and if added, how much – has a huge affect well. Yields for cheap sake in which copious amounts of alcohol are added can be double what they are for premium sake.

With all this compounding error, it is very difficult to say how much sake can be brewed from, say, a ton of rice. Still, it’s an interesting question. So let’s see . . .

To do this, we have to set up a few boundary conditions. Let’s say the size of the batch is one metric ton of rice, and that we are brewing junmaishu, so no alcohol has been added. Let’s also say that the seimai-buai is 60 percent, so that the outer 40 percent of the rice has been ground away.

Finally, let’s assume (huge jump in the analytic process here) that the moromi (the fermenting mash, one ton of rice) was allowed to ferment to the extent that, when the sake was separated from the leftover rice solids, there were 2200 bottles of sake. (A number supplied by a brewer as typical.)

Now, on to the land. Rice is sold by farmers in 60-kg units called hyo. A basic unit of farming land is 10 meters by 100 meters, and is known as a tan.

Since every rice strain is different, and since things vary from place to place due to weather conditions, we are starting to compound errors again. But for much good sake rice, like Yamada Nishiki, one tan yields eight hyo of rice. (Got that?) In other words, you can get about 480 kg of Yamada Nishiki from a plot of land ten meters by one hundred meters.

But wait! Keep in mind that this is brown rice, and we are using rice milled to 60 percent. So, to get one ton of our polished rice, we need to start with 1.66 tons of brown rice.

YamadaFiring up the calculator again, we see that we need about 3.5 tan to yield the 1.66 tons of brown rice. So, in the end, an area of 35 x 100 meters (about the size of a football field) will yield about 2,200 wine-bottle-size bottles of sake. But note that this is genshu, i.e. undiluted. So adding a bit of water to lower the alcohol content from 18 or 19 down to 15 or 16 will bring it to about 2500 bottles of sake, 720 ml each, from our one ton of polished rice that came from a field the size of a football field. About.

Please allow me to reiterate that the assumed degrees of accuracy throughout these calculations is appalling from an engineering standpoint. But still, it’s kind of neat to be able to glance out over a golden field of rice, and think, “Now let’s see . . .”

* * * * * * * * *

3For those that are interested, rice fields in Japan are measured in traditional units of area with unique names. And they are very close to metric measurements. Interestingly, this ties in to room measurement sizes, which in turn ties into tatami mat sizes.

Two tatami mats together measure 3.3058 square meters.

P1020588-99This unit is one tsubo. Three hundred tsubo is (300 x 3.3058) about 1000 square meters, which is also equal to one tan (10m x 100m). Ten tan, or a 100 x 100-meter plot, make up one cho. One cho is very close to one hectare. LIke, within one percent. Now you know.

************

JG_SPC-18The next Sake Professional Course will take place in San Francisco on December 8 to 10. Learn more here.

Meanwhile, the next Sake Professional Course in Japan will take place January 26 to 30, 2015. Learn more here.

Feel free to email me with questions about either!

 

 

National New Sake Appraisal Revisited

Gold-medal-sakeI usually write about the “nationals” in June, right after the competition takes place in May of each year. But some recently gleaned stats have compelled me to address it again this month. The contest is called the Zenkoku Shinshu Kampyoukai, which is translated as the “National New Sake Appraisal” but for some curious reason it is officially known in English as the “Japan Sake Awards.”

As many readers know, it is a blind tasting of sake that is specially brewed for this contest, basically daiginjo on steroids, i.e. intense in aromas and flavors, but exquisitely if precariously balanced. It can be amazing stuff, as is the skill to brew it the way it is, but its intensity is, well, intense. One small glass is plenty for most folks.

But that is not the point! The contest was created to give the brewers a chance to polish their skills and develop techniques that would make all of their sake better. Ostensibly, that is. And in any event the yearly competition has taken on a significance of its own. It is far and away the most prestigious event in the sake industry, yet the average consumer has no clue it exists or what its significance might be. And I am at a loss to explain that.

blog-backgroundThere is an excellent sake promotion company called Fullnet in Tokyo, run by the inimitable Shigero Nakano. The small company runs big events that include massive junmai-shu only tastings and more. They also publish a handful of books with really good information that one cannot get elsewhere. For example, they publish a book that lists the company name, brand, address and contact information of every brewery in the country. And they include interesting tidbits like the 50-plus junmai only kura, or the kura brewing via women toji, or lists of the kura that ceased operations each year. And they also publish a yearly report in book form on the Japan Sake Awards. The below informaton has been culled from this year’s publication by Fullnet.

The contest started in 1911 and has run every year but two; as such, this year was the 102nd running. According to the introduction, the first 44 times they ran the contest, the results were not officially made public, nor were the records kept. That’s it. Kaput. The first 44 may as well not have taken place. In a country with such a sense and awareness of history, this astounds me.

In 1956, they started to keep records, and kept them for each year since then save (inexplicably) two. But of the 54 or so, about 20 have gone missing from official archives. Nothing sinister, just no one thought they were worth keeping (which is sinister enough). But records exist with the companies that participated, and results have been dug up and gleaned from those.

The fact that so few official records remain from such a historically and culturally significant series of events is mind-boggling to me. Still, having hung out with sake for 26 years now, it is not surprising to me.

DSC02231There are many interesting statistics that exist – like longest runs of gold medals, or the most golds overall, or the most over the last ten years. About one fourth of the entries win a gold each in recent years, but nevertheless it is a significant accomplishment and hard to do with great regularity. As such, studying such data can help lead to a good idea of which companies have a significant industry presence.

As prestigious as the contest is, and as much as it has benefited the industry, it has had its dubious effects as well. The judges that assess such sake are with the central government and get transferred a lot. But the criteria they use to assess a sake are the same. So as they go from region to region, they end up influencing sake styles. And as such, traditional regional styles may have in some regions taken a back seat to winning medals and making ginjo-shu that would sell in the big cities.

For example, a sake that is rich and earthy and perhaps even a bit on the amber side might go well with the food, climate and culture of a particular region. But it would never win a gold medal, and would not likely sell in Tokyo. Often the judges would “ding” sake like that, influencing the style of that producer. These trends tend to gather critical mass, and the styles drip-down to lower grades of ginjo, and slowly regional styles fade into oblivion, replaced by more homogenous albeit tasty and refined profiles.

Everything in the Universe has a price. And that includes competitions that improve the image and quality of all sake as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Be sure to look for my new book, Sake Confidential, available now at Barnes and Noble, Amazon, and the other usual suspects. Please check out the customer reviews on Amazon:

sake-cover1-150x300In over two-dozen short essays presented in a very informal and conversational tone, “the truth about sake” is revealed. The truth about junmai types versus non-junmai types, the truth about the impossibly detailed craft of sake brewing, the truth about temperature, premium types, aging, purity, pasteurization and regionality are all touched upon.

How the industry works, its challenges and strengths, what really creates sake flavors and aromas, specs you can safely ignore, and what hype you can safely avoid are all fair game. You’ll learn what goes into sake pricing, and how brewers get their rice. How to choose sake, and how to improve your tasting ability are also part of the fun. Suffice it to say that nowhere else is so much detailed information about the realities of the sake world assembled together into one place.

– See more at the store!

 

 

Terroir in Sake – Does it exist?

I have trouble finding one definition of terroir that more than a couple of people agree with.Traditional Sakagura (sake brewery) After scouring the bodies of wine knowledge out there (read: I poked around the internet for an hour) the ones that rang the most true were along the lines of “characteristics that are region or even parcel-of-land specific” or even more simply a “sense of somewhere,” or something that ties a wine to a very specific place. In other words, for any one or more of a myriad of reasons, the wine could not be exactly reproduced anywhere else.

The question of whether or not sake has terroir comes up with increasing frequency, with the main – and very valid – argument that it might not have true terroir stemming from the fact that the rice used in brewing can be brought in from regions far from the kura (brewery) itself. Heck, brewers from around the country brag about using Yamada Nishiki from Hyogo, even when they are half a country away from Hyogo. That’s a huge chink in the armor of any terroir or regionality argument.

There are those that say it is in the water. The argument goes that since the water cannot be moved, and since the water is tied to a parcel of land, then it is the water itself that defines the terroir of sake. And since sake is like 80 percent water in the end, the leverage is huge.

But, in fact, water can indeed be brought in from a distance, and while not commonly done, it does happen. Furthermore, any parcel of land can have half a dozen water sources and types, depending on where and how deep the well is dug. Also, the water in any one place is really sourced in mountains far away, and it drifts underground for leagues upon leagues before arriving at one spot, and as such there are many places along the way with very similar sources of water. So while the water-is-sake’s-terroir argument is not totally unfounded, I cannot buy into it fully myself.

So, then, does sake have that sense of can-only-be-done-here and cannot-be-reproduced-anywhere known as terroir? And if so, from whence does it hail?

I espouse that it does, and that said terroir is found in none other than the kura itself.

Yes, the kura is but a brewery building. At least on the surface. But integrated into that are the design elements of the toji, or the kuramoto (the brewery owner or business decision maker), and perhaps not even that of the present generation. But the layout/design they have, be it new or 400 years old, is what it is, and is unique in countless ways.

We need to expound on that a bit further, but also bear in mind that in my larger definition of kura here, I include the intention and personality of the toji and his or her supporting cast. Just how that crew works within the physical environment that constitutes the kura will be unique to that time and place, and be impossible to reproduce anywhere else.

We also need to include the nature of the kuramoto as well. Is the owner one who is willing to buy the best rice, in advance, and pay top yen to secure it, or instead string out the toji by pulling strings in the background to get decent rice at better prices. Both are valid approaches! And both will contribute to aspects of a kura that cannot be reproduced elsewhere, especially after having been factored into the overall permutation of things happening at a particular kura.

Also, when the kuramoto and the toji are the same person, or at least the same family, then one dynamic is eliminated. Or another becomes evident – depending on your viewpoint. (Half-full or half-empty?) As this is now the case for about a fourth of the industry, it is indeed a significant aspect of any conversation on sake terroir.

But back to the physical structure of the kura itself. To me, this is where a mark of indelible character is impressed upon what is brewed here. There are countless little things, the aggregate of which makes a given sake simply impossible to recreate anywhere else.

The task of trying to convey this is so daunting I shudder at the thought of where to begin. Let us start with size.

How big is the kura; what is its capacity? How many tanks? How big are the batches? Are they same size for cheap sake as they are for daiginjo? Do they have enough to start a tank a day, or just three a week, or perhaps only one a week? Do they have enough people to watch all of that closely or do they automate? What about temperature control? Is the kura in a cold or warm region? How thick are the walls?

Do they mill in house? How do they wash and soak their rice? How big is the koji room, f’gad’s sake? This is huge. Just how much they can make at one time, and what the attention to detail can be are massively leveraging.

Even little things like how far the koji room is from where they steam their rice is an issue. What about the foyer outside the koji room where they cool it down before adding it to a batch? How does that affect cooling and drying out the koji? Big, big, big in terms of effects on the sake!

What about the yeast starter room? Big or small, refrigerated or not, tightly sealed off orModern Tanks more open? And what of the layout of the fermentation tanks? How do they press the sake? Do they have more than one apparatus that lets the sake tell them when to press it, or do they need to coax the sake to be ready so as to keep on a schedule? How do they do that pressing – with a new machine or an older, traditional one?

Note, none of these factors is unequivocally better than another. All are just different. All contribute to the final terroir of the sake made there.

How do they pasteurize as a rule? How do they store? Distance, pipes, pumps, filters – all of these things have their say in the end.

Then there is the unexplainable. Some yeasts work better in some kura than others. No one knows why. It just is that way. One tank might make consistently better sake than another, by virtue of what no one really knows.

It’s in the kura

Remember that all this is before we even throw in the sake-making techniques themselves, or the skill and intention of the toji (brew master). What rice do they use, what yeast, how far do they mill, how good is their sanitation? What technical methods do they use for the yeast starter – normal, yamahai, kimoto or some variation unique to them?

This list could go on, and for a long time. But where it all leads is to the fact that in any one given kura, there will be a unique set of countless conditions that ensure that the sake made there cannot be reproduced anywhere else.
And therein lies the terroir of sake.

So yes, sake does indeed have terroir – a sense of place, a set of circumstances that ties a given sake to a single place, and it essentially cannot be reproduced anywhere else. And it’s in the kura.

Check out my latest book Sake Confidential: http://www.cbsdsmarttools.com/sites/m98110/index.html