A while back, I participated in an event in Osaka in which I was 
 
privileged enough to be a part of a panel discussion with perhaps the most famous toji (master brewer) in existence. Actually, from just last year he took on the title “honorary toji,” and in his place at that particular brewery is another gent that is the de facto toji. Those are some big-ass shoes to fill!
 
The famous toji in question is one Mr. Naohiko Noguchi. Most of his career was spent brewing a sake called Kikuhime, but in his later years he “retired” and then came out of “retirement” a few hours later down the road making a sake called Jokigen. Both of these kura are in Ishikawa Prefecture, from whence Mr. Noguchi hails. This is, of course, also where the guild of toji to which Noguchi-san is affiliated, the Noto Toji guild, is centered. He has been referred to as one of the “Noto Toji no Shiten-oh,” or one of the “Four guardians of heaven of the Noto Toji guild.”

He is known as much for his sharp mind as he is for his brewing skill, and indeed, on that day he was as sharp as anybody in the room, if not sharper than all. And as we had lunch with a couple other folks before the event began, he wasted no time in asking me about sake overseas, and how it was received. He bore down on me with intense, hazel eyes tempered only by a genuine and warm smile.

“How do people overseas feel about junmai versus added-alcohol sake?” he asked. One could sense he had a well-formed opinion just waiting to be expressed.

“Well,” I began as politely as I could, “not much aru-ten gets over there. Most of it is junmai.” Aru-ten is verbal shorthand for added alcohol sake, i.e. anything not of one of the junmai varieties.

“However,” I continued, I do not think there are very strong opinions either way, yet.”

At which point he let fly with that well-formed opinion, albeit from a purely technical standpoint.

“They both have their place, you know. Sure, even I drink mostly junmai,but ya can’t go dismissing anything not junmai just for silly reasons like purity. It’s just another method, adding alcohol is, and it leads to a different kind of sake. Which of the two is better depends on what you are trying to make, and when you plan to drink it.”

I would have asked him to continue if given the chance. Warm smile intact, he spared me the trouble and just kept talking.

“If you are going to drink it relatively soon, sure, junmai is by and large a better way to make it. But if you want to lay it down to let the flavors consolidate, you are better off making it with a bit of added alcohol. And if you expect it to sit on a shelf for a while, same deal. Junmai, ya know, it gets a bit darui (heavy, sloppy, slow) when it matures.”

While I have of course experienced that non-junmai stands up to time in the bottle better than junmai, somehow hearing it from this uber toji made it so much more valid in my mind. And it was the first time I heard a brewer himself explaining that just when he expected a sake to be drunk would affect his decision on whether or not to add alcohol. Fascinating! With card-carrying members of the junmai jihad seemingly on the increase, having a master brewer of Noguchi-san’s stature acknowledge the fact that aru-ten too is proper sake was both reassuring and satisfying.  (Dare I say vindicating?)

As more and more sake becomes available in many countries around the world, I encourage you to seek and find your preferences. And in so doing, at least consider the idea that all brewing methods have their reasons and legitimacy. Drink the sake, not the label. This is especially applicable to aru-ten and junmai styles.

Sake Swag

I am not a big collector of souvenirs, autographs or the like. But 
 
aftermeeting Noguchi-san, I later sent him a simple postcard acknowledging what an honor it had been to hang out with him for a day. I expected no response, but a scant few days later I did receive a postcard in return, in beautiful if barely readable cursive characters.

 Now this is cool, I thought. This is not something one comes upon every day! I keep it in a special file-cabinet folder called “Sake Swag,” that I admit I  created just for this postcard. (So far, it’s the only thing in there.) The balance of his calligraphy belies the balance of his sake, I thought.

Like all worlds, the sake world has its luminaries, its celebrities, and its legendary figures. It would stand to reason that such personages are usually the creators of sake with great reputations; in other words, we would naturally expect that most sake celebrities would be toji, the master brewers behind great brands of sake. However, quite paradoxically, oftentimes the very people that would qualify for such reputations are too humble to claim them. But there have been a few whose presence and reputation loom so large that they end up becoming reluctant legends.

Several years ago in this newsletter, I wrote about one such individual, Mr. Naohiko Noguchi. That article can be found here, but here is a bit more about the man himself, and his most recent endeavor.

Mr. Noguchi is a toji of the Noto guild, centered in Ishikawa Prefecture, as was his father and grandfather before him. He began brewing at age 16, and after short stints at kura in Shizuoka in Mie, in 1961 he was hired as the toji at Kikuhime back in Ishikawa. The brewery Kikuhime was very small back then, and their customer base consisted of mostly lumberjacks. Like, literally; lumberjacks. Not for them the light and delicate style that sake Mr. Noguchi was accustomed to making in Shizuoka and Mie! So he had to change things up a bit, and fast.

At that time, the yamahai methods – which lead to richer and more umami-laden sake – had all but disappeared from use, since the new (for that time) methods were faster and more predictable. So Mr. Noguchi found a kura in Kyoto still making the yamahai style that would teach him the ins and outs of actually brewing it.

Which he did, and did well. This had the multi-faceted benefit of making the lumberjacks happy, launching the reputation of his employer Kikuhime as well as that of the yamahai style of sake, and his own prowess as a toji to boot.

He reigned at Kikuhime until the retirement age of 65, garnering countless accolades along the way, and finally stepping down in 1997. The next year – yes – the very next year, he came out of “retirement” to work at nearby Kano Shuzo making the well-known sake Jokigen. This he did for 14 years, until 2012. Do that math: he retired the second time at 79.

Mind you, sake brewing is not exactly a desk job. As much as I love sake, I have known since the beginning that I am far too wimpy and far too easily distracted to even attempt a full season at a kura, much less a lifetime. But Mr. Noguchi did it until he was 79.

And then, he did it some more. There was one more short-lived, ill-fated project with which he was involved the next year, then he took a couple of years off. And in 2017 he came out of retirement one more time.

Why, you might ask? In his own words, “If I am not brewing sake, I get physically ill,” which in fact did happen. So it was back to sake brewing, this time as the toji at a newly constructed brewery, called “Noguchi Naohiko Kenkyu-jo,” a name which refers to the kura as a research center.

This is fitting since he hired seven younger people to work and study along with him as they brewed sake. This was at age 85, and this year they began their second brewing season, with Mr. Noguchi being 86. That’s eighty-six. Eighty. Six.

In January of this year I had the chance to visit the brewery, watch them brew for a while, and then – together with three industry colleagues – enjoy an audience with Mr. Noguchi. It was, undoubtedly, one of the most amazing encounters I have had in this industry. I had in fact met him once before about ten years ago, when I found him focused, strong-willed, yet light-hearted. But this time he seemed so much more immortal.

He has always impressed me as lucid, sharp, and articulate. Ironically, he speaks in a local dialect, Noto-ben, that is quite difficult for me to follow. In spite of that, his eloquence and clarity always show through.

But still, I had been expecting him to just be giving orders, grunting and pointing fingers to direct the brewing staff, and be hunched over charts of data curves. I did not expect him to be out in the mix, actually doing the brewing work.

But there he was: quick, dexterous and strong. Together with the young’uns, he was hauling just-steamed rice bundled in cloth, moving with speed and purpose. Later, he was in the koji-making rooms, which are kept between 35C and 45C (!) and at highly humid conditions, working on breaking up rice clumps and spreading and mixing koji mold. It is hard for a normal human being to just be in such an environment, and much harder to actually move and work in one. But there he was, looking as natural and at-home as he could be, exuding the comfort of one who knows just where he truly wants to be.

The brewery is set up for observation by visitors, with a long hallway with a glass wall facing the brewing area of the kura, raised to the level of the top of the tanks. The other wall is a long, granite tapestry of a gallery that highlights Mr. Noguchi’s life, career, and accomplishments.

By looking at that, one gets a sense of just how dedicated he has been to his craft over the years. On display were brewing texts, dog-eared and faded, filled with notes and highlights. He was said to have studied such texts so thoroughly that he memorized their content.

During our chat with him, as we discussed his career, he nonchalantly touched upon concepts like, “If you’re going to bother do something, you might as well strive to be the best at it,” and “At the end of the day, it’s the size of your dreams that counts.” He has a second career writing motivational books, I thought.

All of the above adulation notwithstanding, it is important to point out that I am just an admiring, doting fan. I never had to work under the gentleman. He was notoriously strict, having earned the nickname “demon.” In fact, his 2003 autobiography was entitled “Demon’s Sake.” So I might not be quite so gushing had I actually had that experience. Still, I am sure the level of respect would be just as high, albeit laced with a few more emotions. But what do I know?

I do have a friend that did in fact work under Mr. Noguchi for a good 20 years or so at Kikuhime. He did not say much about the experience, nor did I ask. But he did say that, even having worked in the same brewery together, he could not even speak directly to him while working for him, and in fact not even until about ten years after both had left the company. I’m just sayin’.

In interviews and press conferences held prior to the opening of this brewery, Mr. Noguchi has said several times, “It is my wish to die brewing sake.” Let us hope his wish does not come true for many years to come.

Mr. Noguchi is not the only great toji out there, nor is he the only famous toji. Far from it! The sake world has its own celebrities, more understated then their western counterparts though they may be. But their presence and aura invigorates the sake world, and makes it all that more interesting for all of us.

You can read a bit more about Mr. Noguchi here in this article that I wrote just as the kura opening was announced.

Also, the company with which he is now working is doing a great job of marketing (surely his presence make that easy!), and there is much about Mr. Noguchi in Japanese media.

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Sake Professional Course in San Francisco, September 2019

Sake rice: note the opaque center where the starch is concentrated.

In mid-September in San Francisco I will hold the next Sake Professional Course, the 49th running of the course. The final details have yet to be set in stone, and as such the course has not been formally announced. Nevertheless, I can take tentative reservations. If interested, please send me an email for more information.

For more information on the course, for now, you can check out the information on the just-finished Chicago course, which is here.