It is a junmai ginjo, but as the label says, "karakuchi," it has the grace to go right in. It is a junmai ginjo, but as the label says, it is a clean sake that goes in easily. Reasonably priced.
Tingling, tingling, fluttering. I've been away from sake this summer, but it's time for the season to start in earnest. This was my first Saga sake, and I enjoyed the nouveau feeling of it. It seems that each brewery has its own story to tell, which deepens the flavor.
I have been away from sake for a while due to the unusually hot summer, but it has been a long time since I had sake on a cooler night. It was a good balance of rich flavor and gorgeousness. It was a perfect bottle to start the sake season.
Sake from my favorite soba shop in Yamagata. I got it at a liquor store near the soba shop.
At first it has a mellow aroma like a daiginjo, but as time goes on after opening the bottle, it becomes more robust. After warming it up, it became lighter and lighter.
It was a very good quality sake that lived up to its reputation as a honjozo.
Sake served at my favorite soba restaurant in Yamagata. I had always wondered what kind of sake it was, since I could only drive there, but I found it at a nearby liquor store. I had no idea it was made by the brewery of Hatsuson. It has a sharp sharpness as it claims to be super dry. It also has an aroma and sweetness typical of daiginjos, but its modesty is very graceful and clean. It must be delicious with soba noodles. Hats off once again to the good taste of the soba shop, which I consider the best in Japan.
I am keenly aware of how shallow my history with sake has been.
I started out drinking sake to get drunk when I was a student and it gave me a headache, then I got a job and became a wine drinker during the bubble economy, then I got into whiskey overseas, and recently I was surprised by the wide range of newborn sake when I started drinking Niimasa.
Speaking of Kenbishi, I remember when I was a kid, I used to collect sake stoppers and show them off to my friends. The black pattern that looked like a yakko kite was cool, but the ubiquitous kenbishi was not something I was proud to show off to my friends.
Perhaps it's the trauma of that experience, but every time I see it in the supermarket, it looks like a stale fossil left behind in the ever-changing world of sake. I pretended to be a sake connoisseur, but I knew I shouldn't mess with it. Before I knew it, I had developed a fixed image of a taste I had never had.
I've drunk all the royal sake that is popular these days, but this is definitely the royal sake. It's a masterpiece with the weight of 500 years of history and the unshakable dandyism of its creator. Kenryo, which I thought was cool as a child, was still cool.
I'm sorry, Kenryo, for everything.
It's soft and round when heated, but at room temperature it's quite bitter and has a unique, flinty taste, like an old sake. I think I enjoy the character of room temperature more after drinking it slowly warmed than room temperature to warmed.
The second time. I went around a lot and came back again. I like calm, quiet sake that soaks in slowly. It's a good all-rounder, from cold to warm. The level of quality is as high as ever.
This is what it feels like to be aged. When I first drank it, the unique aftertaste made me uncomfortable. As I continued to drink it, I enjoyed the light acidity followed by the firm maturity. I feel the maturation more strongly when it is warmed up than at room temperature. In whiskey, it's like an Islay with a strong personality.
Sake from Tottori Iwami Town. Purchased at a local liquor store. When I opened the box, I was surprised to see the label, which was either the liquor store's original label or the Iwai no Mizu. I bought it because they said it was definitely good from cold to warm.
I wasn't expecting much (sorry), but I paired it with Matsuba crab, a local specialty, and it was excellent. I also tried it with a little crab miso, which was also good. This is a sake that is not flashy and has a firm backbone.