As mentioned, the train follows the course of the Nishiki river, which is Yamaguchi’s longest and directly supplies brewing water for two Iwakuni breweries: Sakai Shuzo and Yaoshin Shuzo. The river is fed by countless streams and springs along the way, and its waters are clean and bright–perfect for all kinds of fish and even the endangered Giant Japanese Salamander. Nishiki-cho, which is home to Horie Sakaba, has adopted the salamander as its mascot and even has a facility dedicated to safeguarding wayward and injured creatures that find themselves in the wrong spot.

This train is a special event organized by the private railroad company Nishikigawa Tetsudo. For four days in spring and fall, matching the cherry blossom and fall leaf seasons, trains slowly meander up from Iwakuni so that riders can enjoy the scenery along with five 180ml bottles of sake: one from each Iwakuni brewery. That’s Dassai, Kinkan Kuromatsu, Gangi, Gokyo, and Kinsuzume. There is also a lunch box provided, and along with return tickets it costs 8,000 yen a person.

It is so, so worth it. I actually ended up riding twice in a row this year, to make up for missed chances in the past and to take friends along. The scenery, the companionship, and the sake all made for a wonderful couple of days.

Andy Russell, my friend and cohost of Sake Deep Dive, joined me the second day and we took the chance to wander around Nishiki-cho. We stopped by Horie Sakaba, but the highlight was enjoying some Kinsuzume along the riverside.

Here are some pictures that help convey some of the sheer pleasantness.

It’s hard to believe the day has finally come. I first conceived of the idea way back in the spring of 2020, when the pandemic was first making its presence known and I found myself with extra time to fill. I must be honest—it was kind of a whim at first. I was looking for something to do with my time and my interest in sake, and I wanted to help bring attention to the local brewing scene. But when I got started, it all just seemed to take on its own momentum and somehow I managed to make it all the way through.

It has been such a fun, interesting ride, too. I met so many wonderful people, and learned tons that I doubt I ever would have without this. And above all, I have been so, so moved at how supportive everyone has been. From the very beginning, I was surrounded by friends and family who helped me believe it could actually be done. And here we are.

I must admit to feeling a little grumpy about the fact that I, personally, still don’t have any copies of my own book—it takes a long time to ship from America these days—but the idea that it is out there and getting read is truly astonishing to me.

So, to everyone who has helped make this happen—including all of you who have ordered or are going to order it—thank you and kanpai.

Now, go on, Buy My Book!

Here, I want to look forward to 2023.

Whether the pandemic has subsided or not, it’s clear that people are just done with it. So, events are already in the works, and tourism plans are going forward, and sake is right in the middle of that. I think that this year I will probably try to get involved in that, which seems morally suspect given the ongoing pandemic, but I’m not sure how to avoid it without damaging my career for years to come. So, we’ll see how that goes.

All reports are that the rice harvest of 2022 was a rough one. Weather conditions were, as most are well aware, harsh. A hot summer, lots of storms, and uneven rainfall ended up dropping yields, and also making the surviving rice harder. This will have lots of roll-on impacts on sake brewing, so that is a point of concern.

But lest I become all doom and gloom, I have also seen more small local breweries embracing export and finding success in new markets, which is great for them. I have also been, in a very small way, able to help that happen and that is gratifying.

And, well, I still have a book coming, and it’s really just around the corner now. That has already opened up all kinds of new experiences and horizons, which is what life is actually about, when you get down to it.

So, all in all, I think 2023 is going to be a decent year on the sake front, for me.

I hope y’all can say the same.

Peace, and kanpai.

The internal address is yamaguchisake.wordpress.com as well, for any that might need that.

Which sounds like a lot of fun, except when it isn’t. I’ve been at sake breweries and enjoyed the eye-opening freshness of a sake just out of the press, but it is often TOO eye opening. It’s nice for a sip, but can be quite abrasive beyond than that.

At the same time, there is now a kind of… Dare I say cult? of Freshness in sake. The idea was perhaps best encapsulated by Kuji Kosuke of Nambu Bijin when he appeared in the NHK program SAKE R-Evolution, saying “Wine has aging. Beer has froth. Sake has, without a doubt, freshness. We have to conquer the market with freshness. This is sake’s last trump card to take on the world.” The insistence that sake is at its best when fresh as possible, and that the pinnacle of this incredibly diverse, complex beverage comes right after pressing, is…

Well, it’s nonsense.

Fresh pressed sake is an exciting, fun experience. It’s something that gets people’s attention, and that’s great. It can inspire interest, but it’s not something people want to drink every day. Not even sake brewers do that, and they have access to the freshest sake possible. For a regular drink, for something that goes with meals and warms cold evenings, sake needs age. I’m not even talking about koshu or anything, just a couple of months (at least) to take the sharp edges off, because sake just off the press really is, honestly, harsh.

But now, with all the talk about freshness and nama being “sake’s trump card,” it appears that breweries are finding ways to keep that fresh-pressed sensation even through pasteurization (so they can export it, of course…). Methods apparently include bottling immediately, storing/pasteurizing in the bottle, and using new pasteurization methods, but the upshot is things like Kinsuzume’s Akiagari—which should indicated a richly mellowed, mature sake—that FIZZED when I opened it, or a Kamikokoro Junmai that tasted like fresh pencil shavings.

That’s not what I wanted when I opened those bottles, and that’s why they ended up as cooking sake.

In the end, I think, there has to be some kind of indication to the consumer as to what is inside the bottles, because otherwise people aren’t going to be able to find what they’re looking for. Personally, I’m never buying another bottle of Kamikokoro that isn’t aged again, and Kinsuzume Akiagari is dead to me.

I managed to pick up two more small-format futsushu in the last week or so, so here you go!

The first is Nishiki Sekai Josen from Takeuchi Shuzojo, the only brewery in Hofu city and quickly becoming one of my favorites in Yamaguchi. Takeuchi balances this very old-school feeling with truly well-crafted sake. This josen is, without exaggeration, a sake I could happily drink every day. It’s big flavored, sweet but not heavy, deep but not distracting, and so, so satisfying. I wouldn’t dare chill it, because that would dull its charms, but from room temperature up to atsukan it’s just a treasure.

Cup Musume Josen from Iwasaki Shuzo in Hagi. Known for Choyo Fukumusume, Iwasaki is one of the six Hagi GI breweries at the center of creating that particular classification. Though the brewer once told me he’s hoping to go fully junmai, this old fashioned josen is still around. This one gives me a sense of what Hagi sake used to be like–rich and sweet, almost cloying, but still geared for meals. Like any josen, this is best warm, but I think for a lot of sake drinkers it’s veering toward the “avoid” side. The finish lingers overlong even for me, but it stays just this side of unpleasantly heavy. This isn’t one I’ll be seeking out, but if I saw it on the menu I might go for it.

Thank M*sk for waking me up to how much time I’ve been wasting on Twitter and reminding me that I have other places to put my thoughts down.

So, here we are back on the Yamaguchi sake futsushu trail, looking for all the single-serving sized fustsushu worth drinking. For those wondering, I started here: On The Futsushu Trail – Eastern Yamaguchi.

Next, I moved on to Shunan and (oddly, geographically speaking) Hagi.

This is classic Yamaguchi futsushu. It’s sweet and rich, with complex umami that explodes on warming, but finishes quick and easy. It doesn’t weigh on the palate or have lots of aromatics to interfere with food.

Chomonkyo is increasingly focusing on premium-grade sake, but their futsushu is nothing to sneeze at. It’s a clean, dry drink that sneaks right up to food.

You might notice that I talk about food a lot with these. That’s because sake is, and always has been, a meal drink. It’s core reason for being is that: to go with, and not interfere with, whatever food you want to have. So, when people talk about pairing sake with food and what food goes well and all that, it’s kind of gilding the lily. That’s what sake is SUPPOSED to be. Sake that doesn’t pair well with food is failing at being sake, if you ask me.

Anyway, the trail will continue!

I am a documented fan of futsushu, the humble king of Japan’s sake industry. This reasonably priced, mass-market sake might not get a lot of headlines, but it still accounts for over 60% of all the sake made and sold in Japan. Many–most–sake breweries make futsushu as their backbone product, and Yamaguchi is no different. Futsushu has an only partly deserved reputation for low quality (for more of my thoughts on that, read here), but there is a lot of good stuff to be had in the class. And, to see just how much there is, I’ve decided to go through all of the best futsushu made in Yamaguchi to see what it has to offer.

When I say best, there are three conditions I’m setting: no nizoshu (meaning ingredients are only rice, koji, and brewer’s alcohol). No OEM (meaning the sake is made and sold by the same company). Small formats (I want accessibility, so one-cups or 300ml bottles only).

My first installment brings me to Eastern Yamaguchi, with entries from Iwakuni’s Sakai Shuzo and Murashige Shuzo, and Kudamatsu’s Kinfundo Shuzo.

I started with, well, my favorite. Gokyo Josen has been a go-to for me for a couple of years (read here for a full review). I think it represents the ideal of what futsushu can be. It is a clean, well-made sake perfect for meals. It offers a rich range of flavor and deep sweetness, but does not linger or weigh on the palate. It is clean, in other words, and easy drinking, and that has made it a favorite of Yamaguchi drinkers for years. Like most futsushu, it is not particularly aromatic, nor would the word “elegant” cross my mind. But it is imminently satisfying, which is what futsushu is all about.

The paper cup format is, frankly, perfect. It’s light, easily disposable, and found all over the place in Yamaguchi, at convenience and grocery stores alike, for around 190 yen for 180ml. Futsushu shines at warmer temperatures, so it’s at prime drinking temperature right off the shelf. This really is my benchmark drink.

The next entry is another Yamaguchi stalwart, Kinkan Kuromatsu. While this one is not as universal as Gokyo, but it is another one that you can find nearly everywhere around eastern Yamaguchi. Once again, this is a stellar meal sake, but it comes in a bit lighter than Gokyo does. The finish is very quick, although it does offer satisfying richness. I’d say that it has less amino acid content than most of the western Japan futsushu I drink, but it’s still not aromatic or delicate.

Again, this sake is imminently drinkable and great for mealtimes, especially heated up. I still prefer Gokyo, but this is certainly a quality futsushu.

This is a hyper-local brew. It is mostly only found in Kudamatsu and Shunan, but within that small area it’s a relatively popular supermarket sake. This one actually hits heavier than Gokyo, with a bit longer tail on the aftertaste, but without excess sweetness. It almost needs heating to really come into its own, but it’s delicious when you dial in the temperature. It comes across as almost aggressive during meals, so it can overpower less rich dishes, but when it comes to satisfaction, it’s got plenty.

In this set, Gokyo is still top, but I would not hesitate to pick up any of the three when out shopping.

I plan to continue this venture with a central Yamaguchi exploration soon. Stay tuned!

I have been waiting for this particular bottle ever since August of last year. This is such a special, peculiar sake that I had to see how the idea would manifest this season. To recap, this sake is a nama genshu brewed from Yamaguchi-grown rice polished a mere 4%, meaning it has a seimaibuai of 96%. That is less polished than table rice! I actually saw this sake in the tank when I last visited Sakai Shuzo, and there was clearly rice bran floating in the mash.

The sake is also made with black koji, which brings a very strong jolt of citric acid to the moromi, and that translates into a real sourness in the finished sake. Last year, I called the flavor “tart banana bread,” because the acidity and the malty graininess of the rice meshed so well.

How about this year?

This year’s iteration seems to bring more acidity than last year, with less rice-forward grainy notes. That means that, rather than the banana bread of last year, it’s more of a zippy banana spritzer. The aroma is quite reserved, with only some citric notes of the black koji coming through, while the initial attack is all sour. The acidity pulls back into some mild ricey notes with a firm umami core, and fades relatively quickly into a very moreish, sweet finish. It is, in other words, delicious–but not the same kind of delicious I had last year. Which is fine!

This was a great sake, no doubt, but also a good reminder that small batch, craft sake is always in flux. What you get one year you might not get the next. Sake brewing is often guided as much by the vicissitudes of weather, rice condition, and the chaos of microbial gustation as it is the skills of the brewing staff. Best just to roll with it, and enjoy the Ride(?)!

For, in the shadowy background, I have been pursuing my great project: the Yamaguchi Sakagura Project. I have been systematically going down the list of breweries in Yamaguchi to make sure which ones are actually brewing (which isn’t as easy as it sounds) and visiting them. I am now proud to say that I have officially visited every single currently operating sake brewery in Yamaguchi prefecture, and some that aren’t!

It has been such an educational journey. I have met so many great people, and been guided through so many diverse brewing facilities it’s almost hard to believe. The incredible variety in Yamaguchi sake is wonderful, and it is all built around people who pursue their work with passion and sincerity. I feel it an honor that I was welcomed so warmly by so many.

The question, now, is what am I going to do with this experience? The answer is… Wait and see.