106 MAY 2020
water, koji rice and steamed rice, and yeast culture to
create a small batch of starter. To protect the starter
from bacteria while the yeast reproduces, modern
brewers add lactic acid. But Sato uses a century-old
method called yamahai, heating the water in the
starter to kick-start lactic acid growth naturally. The
process results in a slower fermentation with naturally
derived lactic acid, plus stray bacteria that add intrigu-
ing feral notes before dying off.
Sato set out an array of vintages for me to taste. The
2018 smelled butterscotch-y, like a banded cheddar. A
12-year-old blend called Ancient Treasure had taken
on a caramelized mushroom aroma and a Madeira-
like richness. At 18 years old, the sake smacked of dark
chocolate, strawberries, and nuts. It was aging like a
fortified wine.
“Amino acid ... ” Sato said. “Soy, steak, miso, dashi,
salmon—the flavors in Japanese food are very good for
this sake.”
I’ll say. We dined that evening at my ryokan, a tra-
ditional Japanese inn. The server brought whole salt-
grilled cherry salmon threaded on iron skewers. In New
York, I had enjoyed Ancient Treasure with desserts. But
alongside the rustic fish, this sake showed its saline,
umami side, a revelatory pairing.
THE NEXT DAY, I found myself singing to Nina Simone
on the car stereo as I cruised with new friends down
the Noto Peninsula along the Sea of Japan. Toshiaki
Yokomichi was driving. He’s the master brewer at Mioya
Brewery, owned by Miho Fujita, who was in the back
seat. We had just toured their sake works and were on
our way to an izakaya to feast on spider crab, cod milt,
a parade of pickles—funky foods to go with Mioya’s
pungent sakes.
The brewery’s location, Hakui, is famed for UFO
sightings, and like her town, Fujita’s vision is out of
the ordinary. A former Mattel executive, she inherited
the brewery from her father, who had bought it later in
life. She never expected to be a sake maker, and she’s a
woman in a male industry. She doesn’t feel bound by
norms: “Tokyo people like clean, fruit-forward, chilled
sake,” she said. “But I want my sakes served at red wine
temperature to highlight their umami, which is better
with food.”
To maximize savoriness, Yokomichi lets the koji work
for nearly 60 hours, and the rice varietals he uses bring
out umami, too. Fujita oversees a yeast starter method
that is even more ancient than yamahai. Called kimoto,
it entails beating the starter with a pole to encour-
age the formation of lactic acid. Historically, brewers
sang to keep a rhythm, but Fujita beats to pop music,
and sometimes she hacks the process with a handheld
cement mixer. Grassy herbs, blonde miso, a tannin-like
finish—her aged junmai Yuho Rhythm of the Centuries
is complex stuff.
Others of her sakes are just as exuberant, tasting
like pickled melon or fresh-picked peas. Yuho Eternal
Embers has the sweet umami flavor of enoki mush-
rooms. Even Yuho daiginjo exhibits a gamy brightness.
Terraced rice
paddies at
Shiroyone
Senmaida, one
of the largest
rice fields in
Japan, located
in Ishikawa
prefecture.
0520_FT_Japan_Sake.indd 106 FINAL 3/17/20 5:20 PM