What is Shochu?

Shochu is Japan’s other indigenous alcoholic beverage, but unlike sake, shochu is distilled. It is also made from one of several raw materials. The alcoholic content is usually 25%, although sometimes it can be as high as 42% or more.

The word “sake” in Japan can actually refer to all alcoholic beverages in general, although it most often refers to the wine-like rice brew so tightly associated with that word overseas. But in some parts of Japan, most notably the far western and southern regions, the word sake is understood to refer to a totally different alcoholic beverage, also indigenous to Japan, but distilled and not brewed: shochu.

Like almost all such beverages throughout the world, shochu developed as it did as an expression of region, especially climate, cuisine and available raw materials. Perhaps the factor most affecting the development of shochu is the weather. The island of Kyushu and the western part of the island of Honshu are significantly warmer than the rest of Japan.

Brewing sake calls for relatively lower temperatures, but shochu can be distilled in these warmer regions. Also, the higher alcohol content and drier feel is more appealing to many in milder climates.

Unlike many other beverages, shochu is made from one of several raw materials. These include sweet potato, and shochu made from these is called “imo-jochu.” Other materials commonly used include from rice, soba (buckwheat), and barley. There is even one island where there a few places that make shochu from brown sugar. It can also be made from more obscure things like chestnuts and other grains.

And, each of these raw materials gives a very, very distinct flavor and aroma profile to the final sake. These profiles run the gamut from smooth and light (rice) to peaty, earthy and strong (potato). Indeed, each of these raw materials lends a unique flavor in much the same way that the peat and barley of each region in Scotland determine the character of the final scotch whiskey.

There are, in fact, many parallels between shochu and scotch, regional distinction based on local ingredients being only one of them.

Another parallel to scotch can be found in the distillation methods. There are basically two main methods of distillation. The older method – it has been around since the 14th century or so – involves a single round of distillation only, and is made using only one raw material. Known as Otsu-rui (Type B – in an admittedly loose translation) or Honkaku (“the real thing”) shochu, this type will more often reflect the idiosyncrasies of the original raw material. In this sense, it can be likened to single malt scotches.

The second method is one in which the shochu is goes through several distillations, one right after another. It is often made with several of the commonly used raw materials. Known as Kou-rui (Type A, in the same admittedly loose translation) shochu, this method has only been around since 1911, although it only became a legal classification in 1949. With a bit of a stretch, this kind of shochu is similar to much blended scotch. In other words, it is much smoother, ideal for mixing in cocktails, and with much less … well, character.

Beyond these variables, the type of koji mold (used to create sugar from the starch of the raw materials during the fermentation step that necessarily takes place before distillation) can be one of three, (yellow koji, as is used with sake, white koji and black koji) and the distillation itself can take place at either atmospheric pressure or at a forced lower pressure. These parameters too naturally affect the style of the final product.

Kou-rui shochu, of which much more is produced by far, is quite versatile. As it is lighter and cleaner, it lends itself well to use in mixed drinks. Perhaps its most ubiquitous manifestation is the popular “chu-hi,” a shochu hi-ball made using a plethora of different fruit flavors and sold in single-serving cans or mixed fresh at bars and pubs. (Since it is supposedly cleaner by virtue of having been repeatedly distilled, it is said by some to give less of a hangover, although there is no evidence to truly back this up.)

Otsu-rui shochu, the “real thing” honkaku-shochu, on the other hand, has a more artisan, hand crafted appeal associated with it. The nature of the raw material can really come through, and be it soba, rice, barley, or chestnuts, each has its fans and foes. This is especially true when it has been distilled at atmospheric pressure, not forced lower pressure.

Perhaps the most interesting – and illustrious – of all shochu are those made from the sweet potatoes of Kagoshima Prefecture: imo-jochu. While the flavors can be heavier and more earthy than shochu made from other starches, Kagoshima imo-jochu offers complexity and fullness of flavor that makes it quite enjoyable to many a connoisseur.

Honkaku “the real thing” shochu is usually enjoyed straight, on the rocks, or with a splash of water. Another way to enjoy either type of shochu is known as “oyu-wari,” which is simply mixing it with a bit of hot water. This both backs the alcohol off a bit, releases flavor and aroma, and warms the body to the very core. Unbeatable in winter, for sure. From experience, I can guarantee it will warm you from the core outward.

Shochu overall is enjoying massive popularity these days in Japan. Over the last couple of years, both beer and sake consumption have continued to drop, where as shochu has actually increased.

While shochu has its roots in either China or Korea, probably having come across during trading, the traditional home of shochu in Japan is Kagoshima, on the island of Kyushu. In fact, the first usage of the term shochu appeared in graffiti written by a carpenter dated 1559 in a shrine in the city of Oguchi in Kagoshima.

Kagoshima is rightfully proud of their shochu heritage. It is the only prefecture in Japan that brews absolutely no sake, but only produces shochu. If you ask for sake down there, expect and enjoy the local sweet-potato distillate.

The difference between soju and shochu

Korea also makes shochu, although it is called soju in Korean. And, Korean producers got to the US with it first. As such, in US legalese, the product is known as shochu. As far as I know, all Japanese shochu will be legally referred to as soju in the US. It is, in essence, the same thing. Judge it on its flavor, not its label.

What is Awamori?

Awamori is an alcoholic beverage indigenous to and unique to Okinawa. made from rice, however, it is distilled from rice, not brewed. The traditions and methods of Awamori originally came in from Thailand (although with influences from the south, from Indonesia and Taiwan, and from the north, from China and Korea it is said), and awamori was actually the very first distilled beverage in what is now Japan.

Awamori is made only in Japan’s southern most prefecture, the tropical island group of Okinawa. Currently, there are but 47 makers of this unique, earthy beverage, although awamori is enjoying a boom right now, and business is brisk. Due to the influence of the US presence from WWII until 1972, for decades the drink of choice in Okinawa was scotch or whiskey. Now, however, this erstwhile gift to the Shogun of Japan has resumed its rightful place as a very popular sipping beverage in its own land.

There are quite a few ways in which awamori is unique. The pre-distillation ferment is made in such away that there is plenty of citric acid created, which allows awamori to be made all year round in this hot climat. It is distilled once, and afterwards the alcohol content is lowered with water to about 25 to 30 percent, although some awamori is found at 43 percent alcohol.

There are several theories on the origins of the word awamori itself. “Awa” means foam and “mori” can mean to rise up. One theory then is that the foam would rise in great swaths during per-distillation fermentation. Another is that long ago the level of alcohol was measured by pouring the awamori from a height of an outstretched arm into a small cup, and measuring how much foam rose in the cup. Yet a third, less romantic, states that this name was forced upon the Ryukyu distillers by the Satsuma clan of Kagoshima to be sure that it would not be confused with their beloved shochu.

Etymological considerations aside, as mentioned above, awamori is a beverage distilled from rice. It differs from sake, mainland Japan’s indigenous drink, in that sake is brewed, not distilled. Also, sake is made with short-grain Japonica rice, whereas awamori is made using long-grain indica rice that is imported from Thailand (even today). It differs from shochu, Japan’s other distilled beverage, (although much shochu is made from materials other than rice) in several ways, including process variations, as well as the type of koji mold (used for saccharification) and yeast.

A word worth remembering when shopping for awamori is “kusu.” Kusu is aged awamori. It is written with the same characters as the Japanese word koshu, which refers to aged sake, the pronunciation is unique to Awamori and Okinawa.

Awamori was meant to be aged, and aged for a long time. Like many beverages distilled from grains, aging mellows the flavor and rounds out the edges. While awamori aged ten years can be wonderful, it becomes even more enjoyable at 20 or 25 years. (One of the challenges to the awamori industry is how to remain financially viable while they wait on the returns of their long-term investment.)

But the traditional method of aging awamori, known as “shitsugi,” is very curious and does not boast a high degree of repeatability. To explain it, we need to bear in mind that hundreds of years ago, when the Ryukyu kingdom was in its heyday, folks would have several lidded urns of awamori lined up outside the house. The urn containing the oldest awamori was closest to the door, with each urn having successively younger product inside.

When a drink was ladled out from the first urn, the amount taken was then replaced with awamori from the second urn. This in turn was refilled from the third urn and so on. Freshly distilled stuff was placed into the last urn when ready. This led to each urn having inside of it an indeterminable blend of awamori of different degrees of aging. So although kusu refers to aged awamori, traditionally it was not really possible to be any more precise than that.

Modern times, laws, and consumer guidelines call for a bit more accuracy, and currently for a bottle of awamori to have kusu on the label, at least 51% of the contents must have been aged at least three years. While this allows for the traditional shitsugi method of aging, it still means that 49% of it could be freshly distilled stuff. So, while it may be a bit harder to find and a tad more expensive, it is worth it to search for 100% kusu of ten years or more. It will be clearly written as such on the bottle, i.e. “100% aged 10 years,” or something to that effect. Having said that, it is very difficult to find something like a bottle of kusu of which 100% has been aged 25 years.

When the Ryukyu kingdom was in its prime, the best kusu was served at only the most special of occasions. It was presented in very small thimble-sized cups, called “saka-jiki ,” holding perhaps a tablespoon, that are dwarfed by the average “o-chokko” sake cup. These ae still used today in some situations. It was said that while wealthy people might entrust their money to others, they would always keep the keys to their awamori cellar with them.

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 “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.

Aged sake, or “koshu,” is a topic I am wary of breaching. There are a number of reasons for this reticence, not least of which is that aged sake represents such a miniscule portion of all sake that is out there. Aged sake is hard to get, quite expensive, and overall a totally different animal than regular sake – and certainly NOT better in any unequivocal sense. Nor is there any one proper way to age sake, nor any one universally agreed upon way that aged sake should turn out. In one sense, it amounts to – more than anything else – a diversion in the sake world. Fresh sake is really what warrants most of out attention.

However, before I come off as too harsh or biased, let me add that most of the time I like aged sake: it has its place indeed. And heaven knows we all need our diversions from time to time.

First, a bit of historical background.

Long ago, even as far back as the 13h century, sake was often aged. There were those in the aristocracy that were very fond of such sake, and typical aging periods were three or five years. Yet the truth is that most people back then just wanted a buzz, and so even though aged sake was considered precious and was more expensive, most folks were drinking freshly brewed sake.

However, to finance wars with China and Russia, the government leveled its gaze at the potentially rich source of tax income from sake. When these Meiji-era (late 1800s) tax laws were in place, sake tax comprised more than 30% of all taxes collected.

Furthermore, in order to ensure they got their money as soon as possible, this tax was due the moment the sake was pressed, i.e. when the brewing process was completed . The tax was due, then, before they even sold the sake. Naturally, this kind of eliminated any motivation to lay sake down. No kura wanted to wait three to five years to get their money back, and also risk the sake going south (although rare today, it was not uncommon at all back then, especially with aged sake), and their revenues with it! This served the taxman quite nicely, as a faster flow of sake meant more tax revenues.

This law finally changed about 50 years ago, and brewers are now taxed when the sake ships from the kura (i.e. is sold). This opened the door for renewed aging experimentation. Today, the word koshu means aged sake, but it can also refer to sake that has inadvertently aged for one reason or another, especially in a less than positive light, when compared with newer sake, or “shinshu.” But sake deliberately matured for long periods is known as “choki jukusei-shu.” (The word koshu will always do in a pinch!)

So aging sake is not a new concept. However – and this is important – only a very, very minuscule amount of sake is aged. The amount of sake laid down each year to age for a significant time (more than three years) is about one percent of one percent of one percent; that’s it. Why is this? There are two reasons, in my opinion. One, aged sake is a totally different animal from what we know as premium sake today, and two, aged sake is all over the map in its final form.

Looking at the first reason in more depth, consider the nature of today’s premium ginjo sake: light, aromatic, fruity, and lively are a few words that describe fine sake as we know it today. Aged sake – in its most drastically altered forms – can be dark brown in color, heavy, cloying, musty, and rich. It is completely different from what we know and love as fresh sake. It is, in short, a totally different beverage. Granted, aged sake can be just as complex and deep as fresh ginjo, but otherwise unrecognizable as sake. Sure, it can be enjoyable, but it’s not sake as we have come to know it.

A quick caveat to cover my butt: some sake is aged at lower temperatures and at conditions that do not alter the color or flavor in these above-mentioned ways, but rather in ways that present a more well-rounded sake with greater integration of the various flavors and aromas. This kind of aged sake is very sake-like indeed.

This caveat leads to the second point: methods of aging sake, and the results those methods leads to, are all over the map. There is no one way sake is aged, and there is no one way aged sake should end up. Some brewers will age sake in large tanks at room temperature. Others will use tanks at refrigerated temperatures, others in bottles at various temperatures including freezing temperatures. And, yet others will use hybrid methods, aging in tanks for a few years, draining off to leave sediments behind, transferring to bottles, and aging longer at colder temperatures. There is no “one way.”

Each one of these methods will lead to vastly different results. In general, higher aging temperatures and larger vessels (i.e. tanks vs. bottles) yield more drastic changes in color and heaviness of flavor. Colder temperatures and smaller vessels produce less noticeable, more subtle variations. But it is all referred to as aged sake.

Further complicating all of this is the grade of the sake that was laid down to begin with. Usually, the lower the grade of sake, the less well it stands up to the tests of time. At the risk of oversimplifying, higher grades – like ginjo-shu – aged more gracefully.

For example, on one end of the spectrum is Chiyo no Kame of Ehime, who has one daiginjo product aged ten years at freezing temperatures. It is very hard to tell any difference at all between that and recently brewed sake, other than the flavor is quite well-rounded. On the other end of that spectrum is Daruma Masamune of Gifu, who will age some of their sake for 20 years at room temperature. This stuff is dark like soy sauce, and wildly strong in flavor – although enjoyable to many for what it is.

And, hovering somewhere in the complex middle is Azuma Rikishi of Tochigi, who has the most organized aging program that I know of. They age for three years in a tank, then bottle, aging for five to ten years longer at 6C. (Indeed, this sake is precious.)

And what about aging yourself, either deliberately or inadvertently? Feel free to try it, and know that sake will begin to change noticeably in about a year (depending on storage conditions). You may even like what happens to it over time. But my mantra on aging sake at home reads thus: if you want to taste a sake – THE WAY THE BREWER WANTED YOU TO ENJOY IT – then drink it young, like within a year, and keep it cool until then.

And again, all of this complexity and variation applies to but a drop in the bucket of all sake produced. Hence my reserve at promoting it too much. I think it is much more important for people to know a junmai-shu from a ginjo-shu from a run of the mill table sake, or to know a typical Niigata style from a typical Shizuoka profile. I think it is more important for the world at large to come to know what truly good sake is, how to enjoy it, what to look for, and what to serve on the table with it. Most importantly, we all need to taste enough to know what we personally like in a sake (which is all that really matters).

When this understanding reaches a critical mass, we can all venture into more tangential styles. Otherwise, we have a tendency to immediately head toward the different styles, the diversions, the rare stuff – which in the case of koshu is a very small world, and not necessarily better.

So, at the end of the day, if you remember one line from this tirade, even if it is a slightly limiting generalization, let it be this: By and large, sake does not improve with age. Drink it young.

But, in the end, everything written here is a generalization, and is just my opinion. It’s all about enjoyment. As I mentioned, I myself do enjoy some koshu from time to time. And to not talk about aged sake is to do readers a great disservice.

BY: The Brewing Year Dating System

As explained above, sometimes sake is aged by the kura before being released. And, very often, they will tell you right there on the label that it is “3-year koshu” or “5-year koshu,” with the term “jukusei” (aged, or matured) sometimes used instead. Of course, this information is only useful if you know that this sake was only recently released from the kura – if it has been sitting on someone’s shelf for a while, that time must be factored in.

But sometimes, we simply see an indication of the year in which it was brewed. This should make it all simpler – provided we know how to read that information. The problem stems from two points: one, Japan does not use the same dating system as the West, but rather a year-numbering system based on the reign of the current emperor, and two, a given sake brewing season stretches across two calendar years. Butﾂ this article will clear it all up for you!

First of all, while Japan does relate to the fact that this is 2003, officially and traditionally it is called Heisei 15, or the 15th year of the era of Heisei. So just remember that and you are half way golden. If a bottle is labeled as being brewed in year 10, that is five years ago, so 1998. A bit of a mathematical hassle, especially when drinking, but not an insurmountable obstacle.

Next, sake brewing starts in the fall of one year and ends in the spring. So, if a sake were labeled only as year 15, we would not know if it was the season of Fall 14 to Spring 15, or Fall 15 to Spring 16. These are two different years as far as brewing is concerned, and can be likened to two totally different vintages in the wine world. So, we need a bit more detail.

This point did not escape the clever folks at the ministry of taxation, who also needed a more efficient way to tax kura on their output. And so long ago they came up with the concept of the “Brewing Year,” or BY. Just like fiscal years can differ from calendar years, in Japan the Brewing Year runs from July 1 to June 30th of the following year. This, then, encompasses the entire brewing season in one 12-month period.

So, BY14 (it might also appear 14BY) ran from July 1 2002 until June 30 2003. And sake brewed last fall and into this spring would be considered part of BY14.

How does this help you? Well, when you see an aged sake labeled, for example, BY10, you know that since Heisei 10 was 1998, this sake was brewed in the season beginning in the fall of 1998, and running into the spring of 1999. So it is about five years old. BY6, as one final example, would be four years older, having been brewed between fall of 1994 and spring of 1995.

Again, since aged sake is such a small drop in the bucket, you will rarely come across this. But if and when you see this arcane nomenclature, you will know precisely how old your sake is.

Sake and Temperature

At what temperature should you enjoy sake?

As with all things sake-related, there is a long answer and short answer.

Short Answer

Most good sake should be enjoyed slightly chilled. Cheaper sake is served warm.

Long Answer

Indeed, sake was traditionally served warmed. This was related to the fact that sake was, until about 30 or 40 years ago, much, much rougher, fuller, sweeter and woodier than it is now. Warming suited it much better back then.

Wooden (cedar) tanks were used for brewing for centuries, slowly being phased out in the early part of the 20th century. Also, before glass bottles, for centuries sake was then stored in wooden casks (also cedar). As such, they took on a tremendously woody flavor and aroma. While this might have been enjoyable, today’s fine fragrances and subtle flavors would be bludgeoned out of existence by such wood (although you can still enjoy such sake today; it is called “taru-zake”).

But in the end, one big reason sake was warmed in the old days was that it was woodier and rougher, and warming masked a lot of the less-than-refined aspects.

However, about 30 to 40 years ago, things began to change in the sake-brewing world. Brewing technology and the availability of new strains of sake rice (and the equipment to properly handle it) and new pure yeast strains led to sake with bold and lively taste and fragrance profiles. Much more delicate and fragile sake also came about, with fruit and flowery essences all of a sudden becoming part of the equation. Sake like this would be effectively neutered of the very qualities it was brewed to exude, if heated. Today, sake is brewed in stainless steel, ceramic-lined tanks, and stored in bottles. Rice milling technology is immeasurably better than it was even just 30 or 40 years ago. Most premium sake today is delicate, fragrant, and elegant. To heat such sake would be to destroy precisely the flavors and fragrances the brewer worked so hard to have you enjoy!

So: Most good sake should be enjoyed slightly chilled. How chilled? The short answer: like white wine or even a little warmer. Much sake peaks in flavor just below room temperature. The long answer: like wine and any other premium beverage, each sake will be different at even slightly different temperatures. Every sake will appeal to some people at one temperature, and other people at another temperature. What appeals to you most is the best temperature for that sake, for you, on that day.

Sake should never be served too cold

When sake is over-chilled you cannot taste anything. Sure, flaws would be covered up, but so would more refined aspects of the sake, as nothing is discernible. If someone tells you to enjoy sake ice cold, it is because they know their sake is inferior. To propagate such an untruth is unethical and unfair to brewers of fine sake.

But wait! It is not all that simple!

The long answer continues. The truth is, there is plenty of good sake, premium ginjo and sometimes daiginjo even, that goes quite well when gently warmed. (But never too hot!) Plenty indeed. It is too easy, in this era of chilled premium ginjo sake, to overlook how fine warm sake can be, especially in the winter.

So, how do you know whether to warm a sake or to serve it chilled? How can you tell – from the label or otherwise – if a sake will be good when warmed, or better chilled? Fortunately or unfortunately, it is purely a matter of personal preference.

Many sakagura (sake breweries) will tell you that a particular sake of theirs is especially tasty when warmed. Some list that information right on the label. Also, tasting a wide variety of sake at a wide variety of temperatures will soon make it clear which flavor profiles appeal to you at warm temperatures and which do not. So, not surprisingly, the more you taste, the more you will know. Recommendations of friends, restaurateurs, or shopkeepers can also can be useful in knowing which temperatures to serve a sake. But in the end, you have to just taste a lot and figure it out for yourself.

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.

Kuramoto, Toji and Kurabito

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.

In 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.”

The 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

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.

Next, 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 eyes 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.

After 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.

Koji is one of the crucial ingredients in sake brewing

Just what is Koji?

Koji being cultivated in small trays

Koji is steamed rice that has had koji-kin, or koji mold spores, cultivated onto it. (See photo at right, which is a grain of rice cultivated with koji mold.) This magical mold, for which the official scientific name is Aspergillus Oryzae, creates several enzymes as it propagates, and these are what break the starches in rice into sugars that can be fermented by the yeast cells, which then give off carbon dioxide and alcohol. Without koji, there is no sake. For what it is worth, sake is not the only beverage in the world using koji. There are a couple of others throughout Asia. But the brewing methodologies are vastly different.

A quick comparison between the production methods of sake versus other alcoholic beverages may prove useful. Wine is fermented from grapes, which already contain sugar (glucose, to be chemically correct). This is what yeast cells need for food. There are other kinds of sugars, but they cannot be metabolized by yeast. So in winemaking, yeast is added to a liquid already containing sugar.

Beer and other beverages made from malted barley begin not with sugars, but with starches, which are molecularly monstrous. Here, brewers employ enzymes brought out in the barley malting process (where the barley is moistened and warmed, i.e. the sprouting process begun, albeit artificially) to break down the starches into sugars. These enzymes, which activate within very specific temperature ranges, chop the starch chains into much smaller sugar molecules. Some will be glucose and feed the yeast, some will be chemically different sugars and add to flavor.

Grain of rice on which koji is propagating

Back to sake. Sake is brewed from white rice stripped of its husk. There can be no malting, so the starch-chopping enzymes must come from somewhere else. Enter the cooperative koji. The dark-green spores, sprinkled onto steamed rice, graciously provide the necessary enzymes for saccharification. There are many enzymes involved in this process. Some act to create fermentable sugar (glucose), others act more to create sugars that will not ferment but will instead affect texture and flavor in a sake.

Koji production (known as seigiku) is at the very heart of the sake-brewing process. The leverage it holds over the final product is immense. From a good beginning all things flow naturally, and so it is with koji. Koji is cultivated in a special room in the kura (brewery) called the koji muro. When ready, it is mixed with more steamed rice. Initially, yeast and water are added here. In later stages of a batch, koji is transferred into the large tank within which the sake-to-be is fermenting away. It continues to do its sugar -making work, while imparting the effects of its own sensitive production, until fermentation is finished.

As an example of how sensitive yet powerful koji can be, I once had sake presented by the brewer with an apology: “Look, we just rebuilt our koji muro last year. The wood used for the walls was not quite as ready as we thought, and you can unfortunately taste the cedar wood in the sake.” Sure enough, delicious though the sake was, the faint essence of cedar was evident in the flavor and fragrance.

In general, the koji-making process takes 40 to 45 hours. During this time, the developing koji is checked and mixed constantly to ensure proper temperature and moisture, as well as an even distribution of both. As the koji mold works its way into the center of the steamed rice grains, heat is generated. Different temperatures are ideal at different stages of the process. Not only that, but these ideals will change depending on the sought-after flavor profile. The type of rice, pH and mineral content of the water, and a myriad of other things affect the way koji is made as well. These variables compound to create a process that is more art and intuition than science.

When koji is ready for use, it looks like rice with a small amount of white frosting on each grain. The smell and taste are slightly sweet, as might be expected. There is a characteristic light chestnut-like aroma that wafts wonderfully up.

In response to the demands of the times, there are several manifestations of automatic koji-making machines. Some of these are fully automatic; insert ingredients here, stand back for 42 hours, here’s your kooji. Others allow much more human intervention, some being only closed-loop temperature controlled tables. Even robotic-finger kooji mixers are out there. All of these work well; some better than others. On the quality-versus-labor-saved curve, these score very high indeed. But it is interesting to note that almost every kura in the country makes kooji for their best sake by hand.

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.

Importance of Yeast in Sake Brewing

The importance of yeast in the production of sake is extremely important, as yeast influences many elements of sake taste, most noticeably sake fragrance. And since our sense of taste is highly influenced by (if not dependent on) our sense of smell, this is crucially important. Indeed, the proper tasting of sake requires a well-developed sense of smell. There is the initial sniff, noting the general fragrance of a sake. Then comes the fukumi-ka, or the fragrance that arises as you hold the sake in your mouth and breathe. There is also the modori-ka, a third fragrance that becomes discernible immediately after you expel or swallow a sip. Yeast will affect all of these.

What is Yeast? What Does it Do?

Yeast converts sugar to alcohol and carbon dioxide. It is the heart of the creation of all alcoholic beverages. But different yeast strains will produce different things, like esters, alcohols, and acids and other chemical compounds that affect the nuances of fragrance and flavor.

Each yeast will give rise to its own specific array of chemical compounds, with scary names like ethyln caproate and isamyl acetate. These will be present in varying quantities, depending on the choice of yeast and the successful progress (or lack thereof) of the fermentation. Which esters, alcohols and
other compounds are produced are highly dependent on the temperature at which fermentation takes place. All of this will help to determine the character and nature of the sake. In this way, the choice of yeast also directly affects flavor.

Are All Yeast the Same?

How does one strain of yeast physically differ from another? There are many ways, but not all are so obvious. It is often not simply a matter of size or physical appearance. In fact, when the cells of two yeast strains are set next to each other in a microscope, the average person is not likely to be able to tell the difference.

The differences are more evident in other things Like the length of the life cycle of the yeast: how long will it work before becoming dormant, or how robust or fickle it is against alcohol and/or temperature.Which alcohols, esters and other things it tends to give off as by-products of its life cycle during fermentation is of course, another important factor.

How is Yeast Developed?

Although we speak of a yeast being “developed,” it is more a matter of being isolated. The process of coming up with a new, specialized yeast strain, usually takes about three years, and is actually a kind of reverse engineering.

Yeast is usually isolated by starting with a tank of sake being made. It may be one in which many, many strains of naturally occurring (i.e. floating in the air) yeast strains were allowed to initiate the fermentation. Some of the thick foam on the top of the moromi (the fermenting mash) is taken and analyzed. This foam has the highest concentration of yeast cells in the tank. If the sake comes out well, the strain of yeast that is most populous is isolated and reproduced for further study. If it continues to demonstrate the desired qualities, it is made available on a larger scale.

History of Yeast in Japan

In the early 1900s, the Central Brewers Union first began taking pure yeast strains that had been isolated (usually by larger breweries from particularly good tanks of sake) and making them available to kura (breweries) across the nation in pure form, usually in small glass vials. These yeast strains have since been assigned numbers by the Central Brewers Union.

Common Yeast Strains

At present, they are up to number 15. Each one has its own special qualities. Yeast #1 through #6 are no longer in use, as apparently the acid produced was too strong.

Yeast #7, #9, and #10 are perhaps the most important these days. Yeast #7, discovered by Masumi of Nagano, is the single most commonly used yeast in the country, with its mellow fragrance and robust strength during fermentation. Yeast #9 is the most common yeast for ginjo-shu, due to its wonderful fragrance-creating abilities, and fairly healthy constitution during fermentation. Yeast #10 produces a lower-acid, fine-grained flavor in sake, but is a bit fickle at all but the lowest fermentation temperatures.

More recently, Yeast #14 (which is low in acidity with lots of pears and apples in the fragrance) and Yeast #15 (which is very fragrant but not of such robust constitution) are often seen used in finer sake, especially in particular regions.

There are, on top of the publicly available yeast strains, dozens of others that are used on varying scales throughout Japan. Many of these are proprietary, having been developed by kura and used only by them, or more commonly, developed by prefectural brewing research institutes and used by kura in that prefecture.

Many of these are wonderful indeed, and go well with the water and rice of that region. A few examples of this include F701, also known as Utsukushima Yume Kobo from Fukushima, the wonderfully fragrant Alps Kobo from Nagano, and HD-1 and NEW-5, which help Shizuoka sake be the wonderfully drinkable brew that it is.

And finally, no discussion of sake yeast would be complete without mention of the awa-nashi kobo, or foamless yeasts. Yeast #6, #7, #9 and #10 all have cousins that do almost an identical job without producing the massive amounts of foam that rise and fall and breathe majestically throughout the course of the fermentation. These are designated by adding 01 to the number. For example, #901 is a foamless version of #9.

Why foamless? This saves hours and hours of grueling cleaning time, scraping the remnants of the foam from the side of a tank before starting the next batch. Also, since a third of each tank must usually be reserved for the rising foam, more sake can be brewed with less space using such awa-nashi yeast.

However, some experts say that the these foamless versions are not quite what their bubbling cousins are, in terms of the final product. Fragrance and flavors are not quite as refined, although they may be 99 percent of the way there, say some. This is somewhat unsubstantiated, and may be nonsense. It is most likely affected by preconceived notions, but such talk has been heard.

Often these yeasts will be given working names, names that are more romantic than a simple number. One example given above is the F701 from Fukushima, known much more commonly as the Utsukushima Yume (dream) Kobo. Others include mighty #9,also known as Kumamoto Kobo, in honor of the prefecture from which it originally comes (more specifically, from the kura that brews the fragrant and very fruity sake called Koro. Number 10 was discovered by a gent named Chikara Ogawa, so that it is often called Ogawa Kobo (especially in northern Japan, where it was isolated). Number 14 is often referred to as Kanazawa Kobo, and #15 is commonly known as AK-1, for Akita Kobo, both in recognition of their origins.

Why Pay Attention to Yeast?

Yeast is one of the newer developments in the sake world that we can all follow with interest. Over the last ten years or so, dozens of new yeast strains have been developed and come into use. This has been one of those great technical advances in the sake world — one factor that separates great ginjo of today from the run-of-the-mill sake of yesteryear.

Although it may not make much of a difference once you are sipping, learning to identify the qualities of a yeast strain and searching for and comparing fragrance and flavor profiles can be extremely instrumental in improving your palate. It can also simply be a lot of fun.

More and more commonly, especially for decent sake, the yeast used is listed on the bottle. Be sure to look for and try to identify the various special qualities of the various yeast strains.

It is also interesting and important to note that yeast development is one area of progress that has taken place outside of the actual brewing process, yet still affects the final product greatly. In other words, great sake might be brewed using a brand new yeast strain, but the actual brewing process still relies on old hand-made ways that eschew modern machinery.

Yeast table

Sakamai or Rice Variety

There are several types of rice used to make Japanese sake, and each type yields specific flavor profiles. Keep in mind that these nine types of rice are only part of the battle. How sake is brewed and the water used are the other parts of the story. Further, there is a massive range of styles and tremendous overlap across the board. Finally, the degree of rice milling plays a major role in the final product.

1. Yamada Nishiki Rice

From Hyogo, Okayama and Fukuoka. The so-called King of Sake Rice. Fragrant, well-blended soft flavor. Representative Sake Brands: About any daiginjo in the country (slight exaggeration). Hard to give one good recommendation. Nadagiku, Tatsuriki, Okuharima (all Hyogo) and Ginban (Toyama) are good examples.

2. Omachi Rice

From Okayama. Generally less fragrant, more defined flavor elements, more earthiness. The only pure strain of rice left in Japan (to my knowledge, so don’ argue for this point should you choose to quote me). Representative Sake Brands: Bizen Sake no Hitosuji (Okayama). Most visible users of Omachi. Use it across a whole range of sake types . Lots of it good warmed. Some fermented in Bizen-yaki tanks. Also look for Yorokobi no Izumi form Okayama.

3. Miyama Nishiki Rice

From Iwate, Akita, Yamagata, Miyagi, Fukushima, and Nagano. Slightly less dry sake, more rice-like flavor, more mouth feel, and quiet nose. Representative Sake Brands: Sharaku (Fukushima), Hamachidori (Iwate). Both sake have great mouth/tongue feel and presence.

4. Gohyakumangoku Rice

From Niigata, Fukushima, Toyama, and Ishikawa. Smooth and clean and dry and slightly fragrant. Representative Sake Brands: Shimeharitsuru and Kubota, or just about anything from Niigata.

5. Oseto Rice

From Kagawa. Rich and earthy, very distinctive. Representative Sake Brands: Ayakiku (Kagawa). They use only Oseto rice here, in all their sake.

6. Hatta Nishiki Rice

From Hiroshima. Earthy undertones, usually in the background. Rich flavor, quite nose. Representative Sake Brands: Kamoizumi and Fukucho from Hiroshima. Two very different styles, the former being wilder and earthy and the latter being softer and sweeter.

7. Tamazakae Rice

From Tottori and Shiga. Soft and deep, with complex background activity when brewed right. Representative Sake Brands: Kimitsukasa (Tottori ). Hard to find but at Akaoni.

8. Kame no O

From Niigata and Yamagata. Rich and flavorful and a bit drier and more acidic than other rice types, but I have not had enough to intelligently comment. Representative Sake Brands: Although there are several across Niigata and Tohoku, look for Kame no O (Niigata, Kusumi Shuzo).

9. Dewa San San

From Yamagata and Niigata. Complex, not so dry, midly fragrant. Top of PageRepresentative Sake Brands: Fumitoi (Yamagata). Bottles are clearly marked with blue sticker, so easy to find Dewa 33 sake, always from Yamagata.

Rice Milling – Seimaibuai

Premium sake is brewed with special rice in which the starch component (the shinpaku or “white heart”) is concentrated at the center of the grain, with proteins, fats, and amino acids located toward the outside.

Milling

With increased milling, one can remove more of the fats, proteins, and amino acids that lead to unwanted flavors and aromas in the brewing process. Ginjo-shu (premium sake) has at least 40% or more milled away. Daiginjo (super premium sake) has at least 50% or more milled away.

Seimaibuai = Degree rice is milled before brewing

[cryout-multi][cryout-column width=”1/3″]

Yamada Nishiki Rice
A top-grade sake rice
Unmilled

[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]

45% Milled Away
Seimaibuai = 55%
Ginjo Grade

[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]

55% Milled Away
Seimaibuai = 45%
Daiginjo Grade

[/cryout-column][/cryout-multi]

Rice and Sake Prior to 1945

Rice has always been a staple part of the Japanese diet. Up until roughly 50 years ago, rice was in short supply, with production volumes unable to meet domestic demand. Thus, the rice available for sake brewing was understandably limited, and brewing itself was confined to the winter months, when lower temperatures and cleaner winter air provided the best conditions for brewing and storage (natural refrigeration helped keep sake fresh for consumption months after it was brewed). Such conditions made large-scale brewing unfeasible until recent times, and resulted in regional sake brands that closely matched the local climate, cuisine, and tastes of the local population. These fairly distinct regional styles can still be identified today.One exception, however, is a generic type of sake produced during the Edo period (1600-1868). During this period, the new Warrior Class (samurai) had wrested power from the nobility, and demand for sake increased dramatically amongst these warriors. Sake brewers (most notably in the Nada brewing region between Kobe and Osaka) began to produce sake with a refined flavor that appealed to these upper-class Edo consumers. Although Nada-type sake had no overwhelmingly strong characteristics, there was nothing to dislike about it, and its appeal was therefore widespread . Interestingly enough, its appeal is still strong today.

Rice bag

When the sake rice arrives at the sake brewery, it comes as genmai (unmilled, brown rice) in 30 kilogram brown paper bags, with a label on it.

Rice bag label

The rice type, Yamada Nishiki, and its prefecture of origin, in this case Hyogo, is printed above the two stamps near the center. Below that, in a big, bold stamp, it says “tokujo,” which indicates it is the highest of the five classes of rice. The smaller stamp is the name of the inspector. The four stamped characters in the lower box are the name of the rice grower, while the green label indicates it is Yamada Nishiki from “Special A designated plots.”

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

Note 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

Next, 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 and 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)

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)

Photo 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)

When 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

Most 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.

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

[cryout-multi]

[cryout-column width=”1/3″]Japanese[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Reading[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Definition[/cryout-column]

[cryout-column width=”1/3″]甘口[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Amakuchi[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Sweet in flavor[/cryout-column]

[cryout-column width=”1/3″]普通酒[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Futsu-shu[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Normal sake — anything without a special monicker[/cryout-column]

[cryout-column width=”1/3″]原酒[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Genshu[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Undiluted sake (most are slightly diluted)[/cryout-column]

[cryout-column width=”1/3″]吟醸酒[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Ginjo-shu[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Sake brewed with rice milled so that no more than 60% of the grain remains[/cryout-column]

[cryout-column width=”1/3″]火入れ[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Hi-ire[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Pasteurization[/cryout-column]

[cryout-column width=”1/3″]本醸造[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Honjozo[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Sake to which a small amount of distilled alcohol is added[/cryout-column]

[cryout-column width=”1/3″]地酒[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Jizake[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Sake from smaller kura — originally, sake from the boonies[/cryout-column]

[cryout-column width=”1/3″]純米酒[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Junmai-shu[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Sake brewed with only rice, water, and koji — no additives[/cryout-column]

[cryout-column width=”1/3″]辛口[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Karakuchi[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Dry in flavor[/cryout-column]

[cryout-column width=”1/3″]粕[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Kasu[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]The lees remaining after the sake has been pressed from the fermenting mixture[/cryout-column]

[cryout-column width=”1/3″]麹[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Koji[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Rice onto which koji-jin has been propogated (see FAQ page, Q14)[/cryout-column]

[cryout-column width=”1/3″]麹菌[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Koji-kin or Koji-kabi[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Aspergillus Oryzae — a starch dissolving mold[/cryout-column]

[cryout-column width=”1/3″]蔵[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Kura[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]A sake brewery — also known as a sakagura[/cryout-column]

[cryout-column width=”1/3″]蔵人[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Kurabito[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]A brewery worker[/cryout-column]

[cryout-column width=”1/3″]蔵元[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Kuramoto[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Head of brewery[/cryout-column]

[cryout-column width=”1/3″]銘柄[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Meigara[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]The ‘brand name’ of a sake[/cryout-column]

[cryout-column width=”1/3″]諸味[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Moromi[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Fermenting mixture of rice, water, koji, and yeast which yields sake[/cryout-column]

[cryout-column width=”1/3″]元[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Moto[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]The yeast starter of a batch of sake — also, shubo[/cryout-column]

[cryout-column width=”1/3″]日本酒度[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Nihonshu-do[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]The specific gravity of a sake — an indication of dryness or sweetness (see FAQ Page, Q16)[/cryout-column]

[cryout-column width=”1/3″]精米[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Seimai[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Rice polishing (milling)[/cryout-column]

[cryout-column width=”1/3″]精米歩合[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Seimai-buai[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]The degree to which rice has been polished before brewing[/cryout-column]

[cryout-column width=”1/3″]清酒[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Seishu[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]The official name (as far as taxes are concerned) for sake[/cryout-column]

[cryout-column width=”1/3″]焼酎[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Shochu[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]A traditional Japanese distilled beverage[/cryout-column]

[cryout-column width=”1/3″]酒母[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Shubo[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]The yeast starter for a batch of sake[/cryout-column]

[cryout-column width=”1/3″]杜氏[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]Toji[/cryout-column][cryout-column width=”1/3″]The head brewer at a kura[/cryout-column]

[/cryout-multi]