The Japanese Sake Bible. Brian Ashcraft
strong jawline of his whisky-making ancestor.
Outside the brewery are posters of the famed whisky maker. A statue of Masataka and his Scotland-born wife, Rita, stands up the street. “Masataka didn’t grow up in this house,” explains Toshio. “His family home was about five minutes away, and his father Keijiro came here to brew sake when we needed help. That’s probably how Masataka got interested in making alchohol.” That, in turn, got him interested in whisky.
Toshio wasn’t as keen to make liquor. The pressure of taking over the family brewery was daunting.
“My son is two now,” he says. “He might want to be a policeman, a carpenter or a pro baseball player. But … he’s a Taketsuru. Everyone in this town knows that. I started to gradually hate that expectation. I didn’t want to be involved in the brewery at all.”
After high school, Taketsuru won admission to prestigious Osaka University, where his father, Hisao, and Masataka before him had studied booze making. “I told my dad I got into Osaka University,” says Toshio. “I didn’t tell him it was to study physics. He found out during enrollment, and was a bit shocked.” It seemed the brewery would not continue, which was especially sad considering the lengths his ancestors had taken to keep it going.
“My grandfather, Kyousuke Taketsuru, was killed in the atomic bombing of Hiroshima,” Toshio says. “He had a bad leg, so he hadn’t been able to join the military. Plus, he was running a sake brewery, and the troops needed sake to drink, so that was part of the war effort.” With the entire country weary and war-torn, Kyousuke felt he had to do something more; he couldn’t just watch from the sidelines. “He went to Hiroshima to help put out fires,” Toshio says of the grandfather he never met. He pauses, taking another sip of tea. “My grandfather didn’t have to be in Hiroshima city, because he was handicapped and he was making sake,” says Toshio. “But he went anyway.” Kyousuke’s wife was left with a four-year-old son, Hisao, and a sake brewery. The Taketsuru family did their best to make it through those difficult postwar years until Hisao was old enough to take the reins. There was no question whether or not he would run the brewery.
In the postwar era, multinational Japanese companies dominated the globe. Working in a brewery seemed old fashioned. “My father was resigned to the brewery not continuing.” But as graduation approached, the younger Taketsuru started mulling over his career. “I really started thinking about the family business,” he says. “I didn’t have a burning passion for physics. I was just running away from expectations. I thought, was it worth casually ending a sake brewery that had existed for 260 years?” Toshio Taketsuru made up his mind. He was coming home.
“These breweries are passed down through the generations, but the youth are asked to make life-defining decisions before they’ve even drunk sake,” Taketsuru says. “When you’re 20, you still don’t have a developed palate, and you’re asked to devote your life to something you don’t quite understand.”
Taketsuru’s young son scampers into the room. He’s wearing a Star Wars T-shirt. I tell him that my youngest son loves Star Wars too. The boy smiles and darts out of the room. “Kids have their own lives and things they want to do,” Taketsuru says. “And I guess we can always have more children.”
Toshio Taketsuru at his family’s brewery.
Taketsuru Shuzo uses both wooden tubs and metal tanks for brewing.
Statues of Masataka Taketsuru and his wife Rita stand down the street from the Taketsuru brewery.
Taketsuru Shuzo is closed to the public, but it’s not uncommon for sake and whisky fans to make a pilgrimage just to take a snapshot of the brewery’s exterior.
In 1987, the Shinkame Brewery was the first in Japan to switch all of its sakes to junmai-shu. Since then, the brewery has spearheaded the junmai-only movement among sake breweries. See page 243 for tasting note.
TYPES OF SAKE
Sake comes in several major and niche types. The various categories are distinguished by the way they are made or their ingredients, and not by the rice variety used or the region.
Pure Rice-Only Sake
Junmai-shu 純米酒: Literally “pure-rice sake,” junmai is made from rice, koji, yeast and water. It doesn’t have added alcohol or a minimum polishing ratio. The minimum polishing ratio of 70 percent (meaning 30 percent of the grain was milled or polished away) was abolished in 2003. Junmai-shu is often noted for being full bodied and having robust, even earthy flavors. Originally all sake was junmai-shu.
“Alcohol-Added” Sake
In Japanese, alcohol-added sake is called aruten, which is short for arukooru tenka, literally meaning “alcohol added.” The majority of Japanese sake made is aruten, and typically falls into one of the two following categories:
Futsu-shu 普通酒: Literally “regular sake,” this everyday drink is about 60 percent of Japan’s sake market. Futsu-shu is made from table rice, with added organic acids, amino acids, sugar and generous amounts of brewer’s alcohol. What futsu-shu lacks in depth, it makes up for with easy, no-nonsense drinkability. There are exceptions: Japan’s National Tax Agency can designate a junmai-shu as futsu-shu if it’s made from low-grade rice, even if it doesn’t have added alcohol. Moreover, if the sake is made with less than 15 percent koji, it will be categorized as futsu-shu.
Honjozo-shu 本醸造酒: Literally meaning “true brewed sake,” honjozo is made from rice, koji, yeast, water and a limited percentage of high-proof alcohol which is added at the tail end of the fermentation process. The rice used in honjozo-shu must have a polishing ratio of at least 70 percent, meaning that 30 percent of the grain is milled or polished away. The added alcohol helps retain aromas, as scents easily glom onto ethanol, and it also results in a brew that is lighter, milder and easier to drink. The added alcohol also helps fortify and preserve the sake during storage.
Well-Polished Sake
During the 20th century, better milling machines meant lower polishing ratios, which made super-premium sake possible.
Ginjo-shu 吟醸酒: At least 40 percent of the rice must be polished, leaving 60 percent of the grain. Ginjo sake is made from rice, koji, yeast, water and brewer’s alcohol unless it’s junmai ginjo-shu, which doesn’t have added booze. Ginjo sake is famous for its fruity or floral fragrances. For more on ginjo-shu, see pages 18–19.
Daiginjo-shu 大吟醸酒: Dai means “great” or “big,” and Daiginjo is the apex of ginjo. At least 50 percent of each grain is polished, generally resulting in brews that are even more aromatic (and expensive!) than regular ginjo-shu. Daiginjo-shu is made from rice, koji, yeast, water and added brewer’s alcohol, unless it’s a junmai daiginjo-shu, in which case the alcohol content is purely from rice.
Note that daiginjo and ginjo are typically brewed at lower temperatures of around 54°F (12°C). This slows the fermentation to up to five weeks, resulting in a sake with low acidity and