Three Significant Days in Sacramento, CA:   The Iida Group Sake Brewing Seminar

There was, in late June, in Sacramento California, an unprecedented event: a seminar ran by a very prominent player in the Japanese sake-making world. It was a seminar taught by Japanese master sake brewers for the 15 or so craft sake producing companies in North America. It was, as might be expected, very, very cool. The seminar was run by a company called Iida Shoji that has a significant presence in the industry, and one that is steadily growing. The company owns a few sake breweries, so they are involved at that level. But they also run a company called Shin-Nakano, which makes rice milling machines.

In fact, Shin-Nakano makes rice milling machines only for sake production, i.e. not for rice in general. So they have a niche, and they have it sewed up tightly. Interestingly, to bolster their significance as the “rice milling machine of choice” for sake brewers, they present lots of research on techniques, methods and trends for modern sake as related to rice milling. And on top of all that, the employees seem open, light-hearted, and innovative.

The event was held in Sacramento since that is where Shin-Nakano has a rice milling plant. The region produces a lot of rice, and much of that is used in sake brewing in the US, which makes four times as much sake as is imported.

Iida Shoji reached out to and garnered participation from 14 small craft brewers in the US and Canada. While the five large breweries were mostly not in attendance, I am sure they were there in spirit. Also, by my count, there were six small breweries that for one reason or another were not present. I say that to point out that there are about 20 small craft sake breweries in the US now, in various phases of existence, running from “inactive” to “kicking ass.” And most were present.

While there were tastings and a party or two, as well as a visit to a craft sake brewery in San Francisco (Sequoia Sake), as well as a massive rice milling site, the heart of the seminar was a series of lectures by three sake brewers that came over from Japan: Kosuke Kuji of Nanbu Bijin brewing their eponymous sake in Iwate, Philip Harper of Kinoshita Shuzo brewing Tamagawa sake in Kyoto, and Junpei Komatsu of Komatsu Shuzo, brewing Houjun sake in Oita. Each had a different angle, a different background, and different styles of sake.

There were also panel discussions with all three, and lectures on rice growing and distribution in the US as well.

Philip Harper is the toji (chief brewer) making Tamagawa, a rich sake with a clean finish; it is a very expressive yet traditional style. He has been brewing sake since like 1993, I think. Kosuke Kuji is the larger-than-life, with an always cheerful, vocal and energetic presence and spirit. He is the president of Nanbu Bijin, but very, very technically adept and excellent at conveying information. Junpei Komatsu restarted his brewery up after 20 years of dormancy. He began with very small batches at first, which made his perspective especially relevant to the attendees.

The seminar began with each brewer speaking in generalities about sake brewing and their observations of how everyone in North America was doing with their sake brewing. Later, it broke down into specific points and questions asked by the participants.

I am not a brewer, but hey, how could I not be there? From my slightly detached viewpoint, here were the main points. Most of these were echoed by all three lecturers, although each one emphasized different facets.

First, emphasized one brewer, figure out what kind of sake you want to brew. Don’t just try to make something drinkable, or not too bad. Decide if you want to make a rich sake, a light sake, an aromatic sake or a acid-driven wine-like sake. Or something altogether different. That will determine absolutely everything about your operation, so thnk about it well, and decide with commitment.

Next, sanitation. Be uptight, meticulous and fastidious about cleaning everything, all the time. This alone, it was emphasized, will very much improve the quality of your sake. Keep the bad bacteria out at all costs. Let the good micro organisms work in peace. (To me, this is the hugest difference between US and Japanese sake brewers.)

Also, all three emphasized that brewing will be different for each and every person at each and every venue. So you have to figure out what works for you, at your place. You have to “write your own textbook,” from experience and intention.

There were countless other small, detailed, technical questions and discussions, and what was great to me was that overall big issues like sanitation that would supersede smaller things like choice of rice or koji mold or yeast were covered, but the small and minutely detailed questions were answered as well. The balance was as fine as any great daiginjo.

The seminar was significant because it was the first time a representative of the sake industry in Japan proactively acted to help sake brewing efforts overseas. I have long observed the industry in Japan encouraging sake brewing overseas, showing interest and support. As more brewers overseas try their hand, more people will become familiar with sake and willing to try it and learn more about it. And this in turn will help the industry in Japan. It’s pretty much win-win. But this was the first time I have seen such a concrete and effective event take place. It was great.

A month later I ran into someone from Iida Shoji, one of the people most actively involved in putting the three-day seminar together. I congratulated him on its success.

“I look forward to attending next time, too!” I said.

“Hm…maybe two years from now. Not next year,” he replied.

“Oh, really? Not every year,” I teased.

A quick flash of exasperation on his face indicated just how much effort he and his company had put into it. It was clear they would need a break of about two years.His audible sigh augmented his expression.

“See you in two years.”

Each year, the month of April is chock full o’ sake tastings, both industry-focused and consumer-oriented. Usually these are run by distributors with dozens of brewers that each have a range of products to taste and about which to ask questions. Sometimes there are two in one day; and one can easily taste hundreds of sake in that eight hour period. It is exhausting, but important.

Far more important to me than actually tasting all those sake is interacting with the representatives from the kura, be they brewing personnel, or company directors. The information exchange is invaluable. Via such discussions, we can learn how this year’s rice is behaving, how the weather affected that, what new rice or yeast did they start or stop using, and what else affected how this year’s sake will turn out. Then, we can taste and confirm all that.

Groups and gangs of sake promotions notwithstanding, one of the tastings I look forward to each year is held by one brewer only, Hirako Shuzo of Miyagi Prefecture, the brewers of Hitakami sake, and run by the president Takahiro Hirai. I enjoy this particular tasting so much since Hirai-san, with whom I have been friends for a long, long time, likes to talk. He prepares a short presentation on much that transpired over the last year, and about the sake we are about to taste. And it is always educational.

The tasting itself is primarily for retailers and restaurant staff, and is held in a small, simple room in the building of his Tokyo distributor, in a drab but old and classic Tokyo neighborhood. Large bottles of this year’s brew are lined up on long, narrow tables, flanked with spittoons every meter or two.

Each bottle is labeled with the number of the tank from whence it came. The handout received upon entering gives us the necessary information: “Tank #37, Junmai-shu, Hitomebore rice milled to 60%, Miyagi Yeast, Nama Genshu, Nihonshudo 5, Acidity, 1.5”, and maybe a comment or two on what might be special. And so on down the line. Furthermore, we were given the date on which the sake was pressed, i.e. the day fermentation ended.

As we taste, every hour or so he sits everyone down and explains a handful of things. Hirai-san has a knack for saying interesting things to a fairly educated audience, and he did not disappoint this year. Admittedly, he goes a bit deeper than even the average sake geek might be interested. But hey.

The summer was a comparatively cold one, or at least not so hot. This means that the rice ends up softer, which in turn means it dissolves more quickly than hard rice. If the rice does not dissolve well, the sake will be short on flavor and richness. But the other side of the coin is that soft rice can dissolve too quickly and uncontrollably, and that leads to sloppy, cloying and rough flavors. So, in short, an expectation of soft rice makes brewers nervous. And that effects how they process the rice.

In particular, it affects how they soak the rice before steaming. If rice is expected to dissolve quickly, this can be countered by limiting the amount of water it is permitted to absorb. This will slow down the speed of dissolution.

To make matters even more challenging, when the weather is cold like it was this past summer, there is a lack of uniformity in the rice in terms of how fast it absorbs water. So some grains absorb too quickly, others just right, and others not at all. This makes it hard for brewers to control how it dissolves during the month-odd fermentation, since some grains have absorbed more water than others due to that lack of uniformity.Hirai-san explained their countermeasures.

“In short, we were cautious; in fact, we erred on the side of caution. So we did not let the rice absorb enough water, and the sake flavors were too tight, and not quite rich enough. And, so, we countered that in turn by letting the sake sit longer before pasteurizing it. In so doing, enzymes remaining from the koji convert left-over starch molecules to sugar; furthermore, the flavor gets richer and more umami laden in general.”

Enzymes are deactivated by heat, so as long as they do not pasteurize the sake, the enzymes will still do their job – however, they only function in a narrow temperature range. So too cold and they do not work, but too hot and they are deactivated forever.

“The tricky part,” continues Hirai-san, “was that once we measured and tasted and knew the flavor was where we wanted it, we needed to get the enzymes to cease and desist. The problem is, we have a ton of sake that needs to be pasteurized more or less all at once. We simply cannot pasteurize fast enough in those situations; but the sake does not care! It will keep on changin’.

“So the way to do that is to lower the temperature to the point where the enzymes simply do nothing. As recently as 25 years ago, this would not have been practical. But now, we can control that pretty precisely. Modern-day refrigerated tanks make that possible,” he wrapped up.

A week later, I ran into him at another tasting, where he was one of perhaps 30 other kuramoto present that day. We returned briefly to our conversation above, what which point he warned me, “amongst these sake here today, this year you will find extremes. Some will be rough-n-tumble, others too narrow and rigid. Either too much flavor or not enough. This belies the year’s rice, its lack of uniformity, and the reticence it fosters in the brewing staff!”

What this all illustrates so well is the complexity of the sake brewing process, how important the post-fermentation steps are, and just how much one can learn with a few pre-sipping questions.

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Sake Professional Course

The next Sake Professional Course will be held in Miami, Florida in September.

The content of this intensive sake course will be identical to that of the Sake Professional Course held each January in Japan. The course is recognized by the Sake Education Council, and those that complete it will be qualified to take the exam for Certified Sake Specialist, which will be offered on the evening of the last day of the course.

You can read Testimonials from past participants here.

If you would like to make a reservation or to be placed on the notification list, please send an email to that purport to sakeguy@gol.com.

In just about any educational material about sake, we read or hear that the main difference between premium grades of sake like ginjo-shu and regular non-premium sake is the milling of the rice. Specifically, for ginjo sake the rice has been milled much more, and down to a specified degree before brewing. The more the rice is milled, the higher the grade of sake. Short and sweet, and easy to remember. Yeppir.

While true, beneath the surface of that truth is another, and that is that rice milling is just the tip of the iceberg. In reality, there are a gazillion little things that are done differently in the processes used to make premium sake versus regular sake. At least a gazillion.

Of course, the milling is, in fact, very important. This removes the fat and protein that are found in the outer regions of the rice grains, leaving a higher ratio of starch, and leading to a more refined sake.

But how, beyond the milling, does brewing ginjo differ from brewing regular sake? Basically at every step of the process. Each step is done with increased attention to detail that adds a bit more quality with each successive step, leading to a significantly better sake in the end.

Concretely, what changes? For example…

Once the rice is milled, it is soaked and then washed to remove the clinging rice powder, and to adjust the moisture content. For cheap sake, the rice will be washed and soaked in fairly large vats and lots; that will get almost all the powder off and get the moisture content into the ballpark in a fairly efficient way.

Precision Soaking

But for ginjo brewing they wash the rice even more thoroughly, and soak in much smaller lots to attain uniformity of moisture across each grain in the batch, and also to get that moisture content to within a half a percent of target. While that was easy to write for me, it is not easy to accomplish. Do not let the significance of that precision be lost on you.

Doing that every single day to a ton or rice at one time takes skill, experience, and attention to detail. In fact, washing and soaking may be the one step where the difference is the most visible to us mortals.

And this lunacy continues with each step. Steamed rice for regular sake goes along a conveyor belt and cold air is blasted through it, but for ginjo, often it is spread out on straw mats to cool down slowly and naturally. The difference in the effort expended is huge. It is almost as if the sake gods conspired to ensure that the more hassle-laden the work is, the better the sake will be.

While less visible, koji-making is where it really gets nuts. Koji, that moldy rice that supplies enzymes for saccharification, as well as much so much flavor-augmenting amino acids, can be made using machines, and/or in huge-ass lots in which the moisture and temperature are not consistent throughout. But for ginjo, koji is often made in trays as small as 1.5 kilos, and then checked every two hours across the 48 or so hours it takes to make. Every. Two. Hours. This helps ensure that every single grain of rice sees the same temperature and humidity, and provides the same enzymatic power.

On to the yeast starter: Ginjo is usually made with different yeast strains, and in yeast-starter rooms that are kept much colder than average to thwart wayward bacteria from proliferating.

Next, fermentation itself. In short, regular sake is fermented in large tanks leading to large yields with large efficiency. Ginjo is always made in smaller tanks, as it is easier to keep the temperature consistent across the whole mash. With a huge tank, the temperature in the center of the mash will not be the same at the bottom, top or sides of the tank. Ginjo tanks will be jacketed too, with coolant running through those jackets at the flip of a sensor-driven switch to help keep temperature appropriately low no matter how warm or cold it is outside.

Extreme Method of Pressing: by drip

But wait! There’s more! Once fermentation is complete, the sake is pressed to remove the rice lees. This can be done in a handful of ways, some mundane yet good and some extravagant. You have likely surmised by now that ginjo is made using the much more extravagant, low-yield, hassle laden methods. Even when pressing by machine, a recent trend is to put the whole kit-n-kaboodle inside a refrigerated room to eliminate the activity of bacteria that can damage aromas.

Pasteurization for cheap sake is done roughly and quickly, with stability being the goal. Ginjo is pasteurized in one of a handful of methods each with a handful more variations that try to ensure stability but retain liveliness. Not only is the method important but the timing is paramount as well. For regular sake, such attention to detail is simply not justifiable.

Each one of these adds just a bit to the mix and that incrementally leads to better ginjo. And all of the explanations of each one of the steps above could have been expounded upon ad nauseum to further illustrate the point. But I figured readers have a few better things to read; and you all likely get the point.

Interestingly, all of this has trickled down to once lowly junmai-shu. In other words, the junmai-shu of today is brewed using the ginjo techniques described above, whereas a few decades ago it was more commonly brewed in basically the same way as cheap futsuushu (regular sake). The methods, tools, and attention to detail were the same as very cheap sake; only the milling of the rice and the addition of distilled alcohol were different.

As such, the junmai-shu of just a few decades ago rarely boasted the fine lines of distinction that much of today’s junmai offers. While it was hardly rough stuff, it was not nearly as smooth, genteel, lively or aromatic as the average junmai-shu today – which tends to push the ginjo envelope.

Gentle Pasteurization

Some less than optimal flavors and aromatics can be particularly pronounced in just-brewed sake; so a bit of maturity – like six months to a year – works wonders in mellowing and melding the various elements. Pasteurization also helps in taking the edge off. As such, the junmai of olde was rarely drunk young, or nama (unpasteurized). It just wasn’t enjoyable enough in that just-pressed state.

But these days, junmai-shu is much more light, aromatic, soft, refined and layered. In fact, of late, the term “fruity” lends itself to many a junmai-shu description. In particular, banana and melon. And much junmai – as well as ginjo – can now be enjoyed very soon after brewing, and as nama too. This evolution is a result of it being made much more like lofty ginjo-shu and daiginjo-shu, and less like plebian futsuu-shu.

Note, though, that not all brewers are making junmai-shu in these ginjo-esque ways. And there are increasingly glaringly obvious differences between the dos and the do-nots. But certainly the basic visible trend is that junmai-shu has approached ginjo-shu and left futsuu-shu behind.

In truth, it is not as clear cut as the above. Not all regular sake is made in the rough ways, and not all ginjo is made using every one of the precision-driven steps above. But in general, the differences are as laid out here.

Both junmai-shu styles and ginjo-shu styles (including daiginjo styles, i.e. “ginjo to die for”) have been evolving for 40 years, and will continue to do so. And that evolution will take place in countless small ways, mostly outside of the milling process. So yes, it is about the milling of the rice, but it is about so much more as well.

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Sake Professional Course

The next Sake Professional Course will be held in Miami, Florida in September.

The content of this intensive sake course will be identical to that of the Sake Professional Course held each January in Japan. The course is recognized by the Sake Education Council, and those that complete it will be qualified to take the exam for Certified Sake Specialist, which will be offered on the evening of the last day of the course.

You can read Testimonials from past participants here.

If you would like to make a reservation or to be placed on the notification list, please send an email to that purport to sakeguy@gol.com.

The next Sake Professional Course will take place in Denver, August 28, 29 and 30, 2017. Here are ten reasons you really want to be in one of the ten remaining seats.

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.

8. Just one more reason to spend three days in Denver in early 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 1500 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. You will become eligible for the Level II Course, with Advanced Sake Professional certification testing, held in Japan in February of each year, from which only about 220 people have graduated.

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 .

2017 National New Sake Compeition Report

In May, the 105th Zenkoku Shinshu Kanpyoukai was held in Japan. The official English name for this contest is the Japan Sake Awards, but the literal translation is much more descriptive if slightly unwieldy: the National New Sake Tasting Competition. It is the longest running competition of its kind anywhere in the world. Those interested can find more information in the archives of this newsletter (which go back to 1999!), in particular in the June or July editions for each year.

But to save you the hassle, here is a summary of the main points of this prestigious competition.

The sake submitted is not stuff you can normally buy, but rather daiginjo or junmai daiginjo made specifically for this contest. It is brewed to have a minimum of faults, but still seem unique and special. I often refer to it as “daiginjo on steroids.”

This year, 860 of Japan’s 1200 sakagura submitted an entry to the contest. Each company is allowed to submit one sake per brewing license, i.e. one per brewing facility owned. Some big companies own more than one facility so they would be permitted one for each.

Almost all of it is not junmai because using the added-alcohol step brings out more aromas and flavors. But this year, 156 of the 860 submissions were junmai, up from 139 a year ago. Clearly more brewers are interested in trying to win with junmai sake.

Koji being cultivated in small trays

Sake is tasted blind in round one, and about half (this year, 437 to be exact) make it to round two. They are then tasted blind again, and about half (this year, 242 to be exact) of these will be designated as gold, the rest that made it into the second round are designated as prize-winners (the term “silver” is not used, although the gist is the same).

This year, 242 won gold, and 215 won silver. While prestigious within the sake industry, it is not that commonly used in marketing as the average consumer has no idea this contest even exists.

For the seventh time in eleven years, and fifth in a row, Fukushima Prefecture won more golds than any other prefecture, and as has been the case for the past decade, the entire Tohoku region did very, very well. In fact, much more interesting than Fukushima – with all due respect to their accomplishments – was Miyagi, where 20 sake out of the 23 total submitted got gold! Two more got silver as well. This was an unprecedented result.

This year, brewers were whining that the Yamada Nishiki rice that is most commonly used for contest sake like this was not dissolving easily in the fermenting mash. This means tight flavor profiles with little flavor expressed. But this proved to not be too much of a problem, although flavor profiles seemed to vary quite a bit from region to region.

Much winning sake was on the sweet side, with extra glucose to balance out bitterness contributed by yeasts that give fruity aromas. This seemed especially true in Fukushima, and only slightly less so in Miyagi.

While the sake submitted is not usually sake desitned for the market, the flavors, aromas, styles and leading prefectures are a harbinger of where sake is currently headed. Therein lies the contest’s appeal.

There is so much to be said about this competition: the changes over the years, the remarkably-few-yet-still-there-to-some-degree politics, the history, the records, the reasons it came to be. Much of that can be dug up in the archives of this newsletter, (see the end of the newsletter for more on that) but more importantly it seems as though amidst today’s sake popularity, more brewers and consumers as well are showing an interest in this historically and culturally significant competition.

You can see the results in Japanese here and in English here .

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Sake Professional Course  in Denver, Colorado
August 28-30, 2017

From Monday August 28 to Wednesday August 30, 2017, I will hold the 27th North American running of the Sake Professional Course at the University of Denver, (Fritz Knoebel School of Hospitality, Daniels College of Business) in Denver, Colorado. The content of this intensive sake course will be identical to that of the Sake Professional Course held each January in Japan, with the exception of visiting sake breweries.
The course is recognized by the Sake Education Council, and those that complete it will be qualified to take the exam for Certified Sake Specialist, which will be offered on the evening of the last day of the course.

You can learn more about the course here, see the daily syllabus here,and download a pdf here. If you are interested in being in the mailing list for direct course announcements, please send me an email to that purport.

Testimonials from past graduates can be perused here as well.

Announcing the establishment of the “awa Sake Kyokai”

On November 1 of last year, eight sake brewing companies formed the “ awa Sake Kyokai,” or the “Sparkling Sake Association.” On April 14, 2017, the awa Sake Kyokai had increased its membership to nine, and held its inaugural event in Tokyo.

With respect to the name: the word awa means foam, or bubbles. The official Japanese same keeps the word awa in English, with sake and kyoukai in Japanese. Furthermore the word awa is not capitalized. (Explaining this seemed better than just writing (sic) after the word awa. But I digress.)

The purpose of the group is to produce and promote high quality sparkling nihonshu. With the Olympics coming to Tokyo in a scant three years, the member brewers decided it would be good to have a type of sake that can be enjoyed in a toast much like a sparkling wine or Champagne.

Let us briefly look at the sparkling sake market as a whole, and then at the awa Sake Kyokai in more detail.

I have not found accurate numbers of how many sparkling sake products there are in awa sake kyokai certification mark

Japan right now, so the below is my own estimate. In truth, I doubt there are any hard stats, since sparkling sake is classified as sake, i.e. as far as the government is concerned, it is the same stuff. Still, I do have confidence in the numbers here, even if they are my own approximation.

There are 1200 breweries in Japan (1241 this year, to be exact.) Let’s say they average 20 to 25 products each, including seasonal variations. That is about 25,000 sake products in Japan. I think there are significantly less than 200 sparkling sake products on the market. So that means that sparkling sake, in terms of number of products, is less than one percent of the market. In terms of volume produced, it is way, way less than one percent.

The point is not to trivialize it; on the contrary, I do want to support the development of this sector of the sake world. However, it is important to point out that sparkling sake is not to the sake world what sparkling wine and champagne are to the wine world. Not even close.

Also, note that there are a handful of ways to make sparkling sake. It is legal to just pump regular sake with carbon dioxide, and fast and easy as well. As such, a good number of sparkling sake products are made in this way. It is also common to leave some sugar in the sake after pressing, and add a bit of the yeast-laden foam back into the bottle to do a secondary fermentation in the bottle, trapping the gas inside. There are variations and other methods as well.

Back to the awa Sake Kyokai, even though there are plenty of producers making sparkling sake, there are only nine members. While there are likely several reasons for this (some of which are beyond the scope of this newsletter), certainly one is the strict set of conditions to which sake made under this banner must comply.

Those conditions are:

1. Made with rice, rice koji, and water, and conforming to the legal definition of nihonshu.
2. Made with rice that has passed legal quality inspection.
3. Contains only naturally occurring carbon dioxide resulting from fermentation.
4. Transparent in appearance, with visible bubbles when poured.
5. Minimum ten percent alcohol.
6. Minimum pressure of 3.5 bar at 20C

Also, a further stipulation is that the flavors and aromas must remain stable for at leaest three months in the bottle.

So many products on the market do not meet one or more of the specifications above an so will not be marketed under the awa Sake Kyoukai organization’s efforts. It might be alcohol that is not high enough, cheap rice, methods that do not comply, or added fruit flavors (legally rendering them something other than sake) or more. In fact, there are many well known, well marketed and very visible sparkling sake that are not a part of this organization. Which is fine.

The nine breweries are: Tenzan, Hakkaisan, Chiyomusubi, Shichiken, Nanbu Bijin, Mizubasho, Kikuizumi, Fukumitsuya and Dewatsuru. The current chairman is Noriyoshi Nagai, president of Mizubasho. Some of these breweries have more than one conforming product available, while two do not yet even have a conforming product on the market. More members as well as more products from those members can be expected.

While there are various opinions on sparkling sake overall, it is a real and fast growing sector of the sake market and should be encouraged. Note, too, that relatively little sparkling sake is being exported. A bit is, to be sure, and that bit is growing. Certainly the efforts of the awa Sake Kyokai will help that.

While it may or may not rival champagne in the future, the sparking sake sector is bubbling up, and likely to come to a head at some point in time. At least, it is certainly moving in a positive direction.

Why make it harder than it needs to be?

There are countless varieties of yeast used in sake brewing today. Yeast converts sugar (that has been created when enzymes in the koji break down starch in the rice) into alcohol. So, no yeast, no sake. But it does much, much more. But the most evident expression of yeast in sake is aroma. Basically, yeast yields aromas.

If you smell banana and melon in your sake, that comes from the yeast. If you smell apple and anise, that comes from the yeast. If you smell bacon and smoke, that comes from bad yeast.

Almost all brewers select and manually add the yeast of their choice for each sake. And, in a very few cases, yeast can drop in from the air and naturally occur. These can be categorized in a handful of ways, most usefully perhaps in terms of “classic” yeasts and “modern” yeasts, with the former giving more overall balance and the latter being more aromatic.

But another way to categorize yeast is “foaming” and “non-foaming.” The difference is just as the terms imply: foaming yeast froths up on the top of the fermenting mash, whereas non-foaming yeast does not. Other than that, they are pretty much the same.

Foaming yeast are much, much more common and were in fact the standard for centuries. Why are the foamless ones foamless? What happens, it seems, is that most yeast cells will cling to bubbles of carbon dioxide that are created and then rise to the surface. Foamless yeast cells, on the other hand, for whatever reason do not cling to these bubbles and so are not carried up, up, and away. Since the bubbles are unencumbered, they pop, and there is no foam rising high above the mash.

Many yeasts have both foaming and non-foaming manifestations. An organization called the Nihon Jozo Kyokai (Brewing society of Japan) distributes the lion’s share of sake yeast to the industry. The yeast varieties they distribute are numbered, as in number 6, 7, 9, 10, 14, and 18. These are the most commonly seen, although there are others. When a -01 is added, that indicates a foamless version. So 601 is a foamless 6, 701 is a foamless 7, and 901 is a foamless 9.

During production, the two types of yeast behave very differently.

For instance, since the foam rises in great swaths during fermentation, brewers cannot fill a fermentation tank to the top with ingredients when using a foaming yeast. If they did, the foam would overflow, taking yeast with it, and fermentation would peter out. Using a foamless yeast eliminates this problem, since there is no foam to overflow. So the brewers can fill the tank to the top from the beginning, and this means brewers can get about 25 percent more sake from each tank. That is significant.

Also, when foam does rise and fall, the remains that cling to the side of the tank are a veritable hotbed of bacterial activity, an orgy of undesirable microorganisms just hankerin’ to drop back in and do damage to the unsuspecting ambrosia-in-waiting below. So this must be assiduously cleaned off by the brewers. Not only is this hard and time consuming work, it can be dangerous. So by eliminating the foamy remains, time, labor, and risk are spared. Yet one more advantage of foamless yeast is that the yeast cells move and work a bit more freely, so that fermentation proceeds a smidgeon faster and can finish a day or two earlier.

So foamless yeast is faster, easier, and increases per-tank yields significantly. This naturally begs the question: why in the world would a brewer not use a foamless yeast?

In a word (or two): sensory input. Visual data. Insights that chemical measurements cannot provide.

I recently visited the brewer of Matsuo, Ryuta Tanaka, deep in the backwoods of mountainous Nagano prefecture. As we meandered through his kura, we eventually made it to the moto room, where all the yeast starters are created. Most sake here is made using a yeast known as Number 14, the non-foaming counterpart of which is 14-01.

“All of our sake is made using foaming yeast; 14-01 is fine, but I gotta have the foam,” he began. “Sure, I give up yields. Sure, it is more of a hassle. But this sake stuff has a life of its own; it doesn’t always proceed as expected. So the more info I can get, the better I can roll with it and guide it to end up as tasty.”

During the 20 to 35 day fermentation period, the surface of the mash will change daily. After a few days, the foam will appear, peaking at about the tenth to the twelfth day, and then slowly collapse and contract into a skin-like surface. Experience and intuition let a master brewer look at the foam on any day and know how healthy the yeast is, and what the sake will end up tasting like when done. Foamless yeasts, for all their benefits, do not offer nearly as much visual feedback as to how the fermentation is proceeding.

Tanaka-san continued. “With experience, it is amazing what I can tell from the appearance of the foam. F’rinstance, I can look at the foam on any given day and tell you what the nihonshu-do will be on the next day!” The nihonshu-do is the specific gravity, and it will tell the brewer how fast sugar is being produced and how fast it is being fermented. So it is a seminally important measurement to sake brewing.

“Usually, we have to measure that daily with a hydrometer; but I can eyeball it based on the foam,” he stated, obviously pleased with this. “That’s the way sake has always been made; brewers used their five senses to get the job done. They didn’t need no stinkin’ hydrometers!” While I admittedly took a bit of liberty with that translation, the gist was certainly the same.

Last month in this space we talked about sadistic sake fans. While their counterparts may exist in masochistic brewers, often the older, hassle-laden ways are, indeed, better. While there are certainly many opinions, increased sensory data is one reason for that.

Suffering does not (always) equal better sake

Sake sadists. They’re out there. You may be one of them. In truth, “sake romanticists” might be just as applicable a term, although it garners less attention. “Sake sadists” makes a better eye-grabbing headline.

To what does that refer? There are many people out there – inside Japan and out, Japanese and not, some that know their sake well and some that do not – that seem to like a sake better if they are led to believe that the brewing staff suffered more when brewing it.

Let’s sake that two glasses of sake were put before someone of this bent. And let us say that for the one on the right, he or she was told that, in order to make this level of quality, the koji was made in such a labor intensive way, and with so much more attention to detail, that the toji (master brewer) had to get up every 90 minutes to check on the moisture and temperature, every day for five months of the year. (Such sake exist!) And let us tell him or her that the one on the left was made using modern equipment that accomplished the same thing, without the koji-person needing to even get out of bed.

I can all but guarantee that if these two sake were placed before a sake sadist, he or she would like the one on the right. Deprival. Discomfort. Fatigue. Angst. These are sometimes mistakenly considered to be connected to craftsmanship and quality.

And in truth, sometimes they are. Very commonly the old ways do, in fact, lead to better sake. That is why they have been doing it that way for centuries upon centuries. But not always. Sometimes the ease and comfort that modern technology affords is, actually, just as good as the labor intensive ways, or even better.

Sometimes technology can in fact augment craftsmanship. Not replace it, mind you, but seriously augment it.

An example of this arose when visiting a brewery in Shimane (Ok, it was Rihaku) with a handful of visitors from the US. The president and toji-for-now was explaining how they made their koji. Let me preface this by saying that the company is now transitioning from having an old, experienced toji who could make do with a minimum of modern conveniences like thermometers and scales, and who still cranked out consistently great sake, to young staff that are far less experienced.

He led a dozen of us into his koji-making room. Therein, steamed rice with a mold sprinkled on it would spend 48 hours or so of pampering and tweaking, permitting the mold to grow into the rice, giving off the enzymes that will liquefy the rice, and convert its starch to sugar. Koji making: the heart of the sake brewing process.

He tapped the thigh-high stainless steel table with the heel of his palm as he spoke. “This entire table sits on a scale. We can see the weight of the rice that sits upon it,” he explained as he pointed to a red LED display in the corner.

“Moisture content is everything in completed koji. It guides the mold, and also affects how fast things dissolve. And we know for each batch of koji precisely what we want that moisture content to be.

“And, because we know how much dry rice we started with, once we load it up here and weigh it we know what the moisture content is at that point. Naturally, that means we know how much moisture we need the rice to give up through evaporation.”

He continued, obviously pleased with his new toy.

“By spreading the rice out over a larger and larger area of the table, we can create more surface area, and blow off less or more moisture, as needed. We adjust that moisture content during the first 24 hours of the koji-making process.”

He walked over to the corner of the table, and showed us what is basically a ruler along the edge of the table that indicates the distance from the edge. He then showed us a large, laminated card with a graph printed on it.

“Like I said, we know what we want the moisture to be when our koji is completed. And we know what the moisture content is when the rice comes into this room. So we know how much we need it to give off. And, finally, for a given thickness of the layer of rice sitting on this table, we know how much it will blow off, the speed at which it will dry out.
“So by looking at this graph, we can see that if the rice on the table weighs X kilos, then we spread the rice out on the table as far as point Y. If that is done properly, the perfect amount of moisture will evaporate, and we will have perfect moisture in the rice as we go into the crucial second day of koji making.

“If we set it up this way, with just one experienced person in here, heck, even you guys could make good sake.” This was immediately followed by a surely unintentionally condescending snort.

“But,” he continued, “consumers these days do not want to hear that. No one wants to hear how modern technology and clever ideas makes sake brewing easier. They want to hear how much effort and angst and hard work we had to do. They want to hear how we suffered to achieve that attention to detail.” He smiled wryly as he slowly shook his head.

“Somehow, people think that the more the brewer had to suffer, the better the sake. Of course, there are steps of the process in which that is close to true. But there are also plenty of clever tricks and modern tools that make sake that is just as good, with less effort.”

He then went on (and on) about how the old toji who had retired a few years ago made do with so much less. He was able to do much of his work without entire tables on scales or graphs. He was so experienced in his craft that he was able to do almost everything by observation, experience and intuition honed through years of dedication to his craft.

Surely there are still toji like that. But not many. As the industry changes, and the brewing staff at more and more kura change from old gnarly guys from the boonies to local youths enjoying a newfound passion, impossibly accurate intuition and modern tools will continue to coexist.

And it will therefore become increasingly important to rein in “sake sadism” and even “sake romanticism”. As long as it tastes and smells good to us, it matters not how it got there.

What it is, and how much it’s used

If you have gotten this far – getting to this blog – then you surely know that sake is made from rice. So let’s start with that base assumption. No other fermentable material is used: no sugar, no grains. But much changes in the sake world, which is not always so proactive in presenting information to begin with. So let’s look at a handful of fun and interesting observations about rice and how it is used in the sake world.

First of all, there is sake rice and then there is everything else, rice-wise. Sake rice is known as shuzo koteki-mai, or less officially, sakamai. Often, regular rice is referred to as table rice. Shuzo Koteki-mai is a legal definition, i.e. there are officially registered sake rice varieties; not just any rice that aspires to it can in fact be a sake rice. There are physical differences.

Just about four percent of all rice grown in Japan is sake rice. And this is split across about one hundred varieties. About. It goes up and down a bit each year as new ones are tried and old ones fall off the list. And, much like grapes, if you know about a dozen, you are amongst most cognoscenti. But in truth, knowing about half that number will serve you well in eighty percent of premium sake situations you encounter.

But here is the thing: most sake is actually not made from proper sake rice.

Looking at the breakdown of the sake market, about 35 percent is considered premium, which means it qualifies for a special designation. What special designations would those be? Honjozo, junmai-shu, and the four types of ginjo. The remaining 65 percent does not qualify for those terms, and that 65 percent is considered just regular sake. Note, much of it is very enjoyable! ‘Tis not to be dissed, at least not outright. But the point here is that this 65 percent of all sake produced is not made with sake rice, but rather run-of-the-mill table rice.

However, almost all premium sake is made using sake rice. Doing so leads to much better sake with much less effort. Note, however, that this is not a law or even a rule. It is not at all obligatory to use sake rice for any sake, not even lofty daiginjo.

Why would a brewer not do so? Simple: cost. Sake rice is two to three times more expensive than normal rice, especially after some special rice-pricing breaks the distribution system allows sake brewers to utilize. So cost is huge. Another reason could be availability. In a low-yield year, there just might not be enough good sake rice to go around.

But for all intents and purposes, premium sake is in fact made using proper sake rice, whereas cheap sake generally is not.

As mentioned above, sake rice and table rice are physically different. Sake rice is larger: the grains themselves and the plants as well. Sake rice has more starch, and less fat and protein. Starch becomes sugar; sugar becomes alcohol. So more starch is good. You can eat sake rice, but that extra fat and protein make table rice taste better.

Sake rice also has those desirable starches physically located in the center of the grains, with fat and protein around that, near the surface. This makes it easy to mill away the outside of the grain and take that fat and protein away, leaving starch behind.

It is harder to grow, or at least to grow well. It calls for more effort and specific climactic conditions. And all these factors combine to make sake rice more expensive as well.

As mentioned above, there are about 100 varieties of sake rice registered. About. The most commonly encountered – and widely considered the best – is Yamada Nishiki. Other names to learn and remember are Gohyakumangoku, Miyama Nishiki, Omachi, and Hattan Nishiki. There are many more, but this small sampling will be found in much of the sake you enjoy. Still, you will encounter dozens of others if you pay attention to such things.

Rarely are they blended. Most often a given sake is made with one rice only. There are, of course, exceptions. One such exception is that sometimes Yamada Nishiki is used for the koji (the 20 percent of all the rice in a given batch that has enzyme-producing mold propagated onto it) since koji exerts the most leverage on the nature of the sake. A less expensive sake rice can be used for the remaining 80 percent, onto which the mold is not grown.

This method walks that fine line of quality and cost control, and walks it nicely. But again, it is not so commonly done. You could say that those that do it are going “against the grain.” (Sorry.)

An important concept related to sake and rice is that the choice of rice does not affect the final flavor and nature of the sake in quite the same way that the choice of grape might affect the nature and flavors of a wine. Yes, the choice of rice is very important. And yes, different rice varieties do lead to flavor profiles that can be associated with them – in general. But two toji (master brewers) can take the same rice, milled to the same degree, and make totally different sake in every way.

How? By creating the koji differently, or through the choice of yeast, or fermentation temperature or time in the tank. There are dozens of options at every step of the brewing process, and those choices hugely affect the nature of the sake. More so than the choice of rice? Perhaps; perhaps not. It depends on who you ask.

But using proper sake rice – and carefully selecting the right one for the job – is still a massively leveraging and important aspect of making great sake. Why? Because good sake rice allows a toji to express his or her skills through the sake. Proper sake rice lets the toji do his or her best work. It is predictable in how it behaves, and just which one is best depends on the style of sake, the region, and the experience of those that will handle it.

There is much, much more to be said about sake rice. There are trends, economics, politics, developments, history, culture and climate changes. Nothing ever sits still in the sake world.

But we can. We can sit still and enjoy the sake in front of us. That’s all we really need to do: enjoy sake. However, should it interest us, we can also begin to pay attention and take notes about rice types and the lore that surrounds each. It certainly enhances sake enjoyment.

Sake Professional Course in San Francisco, April 3 ~ 5, 2017

From Monday, April 3 until Wednesday April 5, I will hold the first Sake Professional Course of 2017 at Bentley Reserve in San Francisco. If interested, for more information please send me an email at sakeguy@gol.com. “No sake stone remains left unturned” in this very comprehensive course. Learn more here.

Note to readers: Just a few days after this newsletter was sent out, the government finished its open hearing, and it became official: Yamagata Sake has been granted bona fide Geographical Indication, the first entire prefecture to do that in the sake world. Congratulations to them!

The Sake of Yamagata Prefecture
…and its move toward bona fide Geographical Indication

Several years ago, in July of 2014, the Yamagata Prefecture Sake Brewers’ Association began the process of securing a designation of their sake as a Geographical Indication recognized by the World Trade Organization and various international treaties. In order to qualify for something like this, a product (any product applying for a GI) must possess qualities or a reputation that are due to that origin. Securing such a designation gives the region and its producers the exclusive right to an appropriate indication on the label.

Japan’s National Tax Administration (“NTA”), the branch of the government overseeing sake, opened a public hearing on the topic on October 19 of this year. It was not made clear how long this stage will take, but assuming it does pass smoothly, Yamagata Sake will come into existence as a bona fide Geographical Indication (GI) for sake. One more region in Japan, the city of Hakusan in Ishikawa Prefecture, has qualified for a GI for the sake of that region. However, it only applies to the five breweries in city of Hakusan; the rest of the breweries in Ishikawa Prefecture are unaffected. Yamagata Prefecture will be the first entire prefecture to secure this distinction.

This will follow the NTA’s designation of “Japanese Sake” and “Nihonshu” for sake brewed in Japan, which were recognized December 25, 2015. In total, there are currently seven alcoholic beverage GI designations in Japan, other five applying to wine or shochu. Yamagata would be the eighth.

Once complete, the Yamagata Brewers’ Association will oversee things, and indications are that they will create a graphic image indicating the Yamagata GI for use by the 51 brewers in the prefecture.

Here is a bit more about the sake of this great region.

Yamagata prefecture lies packaged at a somewhat awkward angle in the lower left-hand corner of the Tohoku region. Surrounded by mountains but with a stretch open to the Japan Sea, it looks like it was designed specifically to absorb the cold and snow.

There are at present 51 sakagura brewing in Yamagata. The oldest of these dates back to the Japanese “Warring States” era of long civil war, while the youngest can trace their roots to the beginning of the Edo period. Even the new kid in town is an old and dignified character.

Most of these are smallish, traditional kura. While there are a couple of large-ish brewres, automation and computers, for all their cons, pros, advocates and foes in the brewing world, are certainly not unheard of up here, but they seem to be the exception and not the rule.

Those mountains and that big pond seem to have kept things all in the family for a good number of centuries. A great deal of the sake consumed in Yamagata is made there, and a comparatively small amount of what is brewed there leaves the prefecture, oh pity of pities.

To the southwest lies Niigata in all its brewing glory, and not too far to the northeast sits Iwate. Both prefectures are the home of a “toji ryuha,” or guild of master brewers, known as the Echigo Toji and Nanbu Toji respectively.

Despite this proximity to easily accessible experience, Yamagata has long handled things by themselves. In other words, the master brewer at most of the kura inYamagata are not from the major guilds in the nearby regions, but rather were “raised” inside the prefecture.

There is great cooperation amongst the kura in Yamagata with respect to education and training of these “home-grown toji.” In an interesting contrast to the sake-brewing sphere of most prefectures, ninety percent of the “kurabito” (brewery workers) are indigenous Yamagata locals. This spares them the long winters far from home historically so common among the brewing staff of the sake industry. Furthermore, there are a great number of kura not even adhering to the semi-feudal toji system.

The climate is ideal (read: cold and snowy) for brewing. Sake-slaying bacteria don’t exactly thrive at these temperatures. What does thrive, however, are several strains of wonderful sake rice that almost seems to challenge and sneer at the harshly cold weather. Much of the sake brewed here is made with such fine sake rice strains. These include Miyama Nishiki, Kame no O, Dewa Sansan, Dewa no Sato, and a handful of other Yamagata-only sake rice types as well.

The type of sake found here is in general relatively light and clean, often (but not always) with a good sturdy acid presence. But perhaps more than any other prefecture, much of the sake here seems to have an abundance of personal character and individuality. There seems to be plenty of uniquely distinct yet almost magically balanced sake. Having said that, the term that the prefecture promoted and that the NTA embraced in defining the qualities associated with the sake of the region was やわらかくて透明感のある酒質, yawarakakute tomeikan no aru shushitsu, or “sake with softness and clarity.”

The Brewers’ Association web page, found here and only in Japanese, refers to the region as “Ginjo Okoku,” or “The Empire of Ginjo-shu,” alluding to the extremely high ratio of sake brewed there that is ginjo-shu, especially when compared to that of other prefectures.

On the whole, the prefecture is active in continuing to improve their skills and the quality of their product. There are several strains of Yamagata-only yeast, as well as a special strain of koji developed in the region as well.

All of this combines to make Yamagata Prefecture a leader amongst the six prefectures of the Tohoku region, the northeastern part of Japan that has garnered great attention in the sake world over the last decade or so.

The granting of Yamagata Sake as a bona fide GI will certainly further the region’s efforts to convey to the rest of the world just how good their sake is.

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Sake Professional Course in San Francisco, April 3 ~ 5, 2017

From Monday, April 3 until Wednesday April 5, I will hold the first Sake Professional Course of 2017 at Bentley Reserve in San Francisco. If interested, for more information please send me an email at sakeguy@gol.com.