Why an English-language magazine about sake? Why now? Because it is, quite simply, an idea whose time has come.
We have seen sake grow for the last fifteen years from a curiosity to a fast-growing sector of the connoisseur beverage market. We have noted how sake, not taken too seriously by many people back then, has become an essential topic for those that know their food and drink. And we have rejoiced at how many more brands, varieties and products have become available outside of Japan. It’s been a long time coming, too. The world is finally ready for sake.
Over the millennium that sake has been around—at least in a form remotely resembling what it is today—it has never been better. Astoundingly, it just keeps improving.
For hundreds of years sake styles and quality stayed pretty much the same. Processes were refined to the point that quality was stable, but before the industrial revolution, brewers lacked the technology to take things beyond that. From the time the Buddhist monks in the temples of Nara brewed and sold sake to support themselves— developing many of the major steps of the process as well—through the rise of the major production regions of Itami, Ikeda, and then Nada, sake production techniques saw only minor changes. Most of these were geared toward improving yields. Sake from the 16th century or so until the mid-1900s was richer, fuller and more acidic, yet balanced and enjoyable as well.
However, without an understanding of the microorganisms that both help and hinder sake, the success of breweries varied. Some had just the right molds and yeasts in their ambient environment and knew how to keep out the bad ones. Other breweries had fewer of the good ones and more of the bad. Long ago, it was the stuff that hovered in the air and clung to the rafters that would make or break a sake brewery.
In the mid-1900s, technology really started to make its presence felt. Vertical milling machines became widely accessible, letting brewers mill down the rice much further, which in turn led to much cleaner sake. Cool instruments called microscopes helped biologists isolate new yeasts that led to focused and specifically chosen aromas. Research led to a plethora of other realizations that helped all sake get better. It also helped those places that struggled before to know just what was wrong and how to fix it.
Hence, the truth is that there really is no bad sake anymore. Just good, and better.
Back in the early 1980s, what came to be known as the “Ginjo Boom” came about. Before then, ginjo was an anomaly, something that no one really drank. It was for contests, too expensive and obnoxiously aromatic for the average customer to embrace. Slowly but surely, though, ginjo sake moved into the mainstream. Even today, only about ten percent of all sake is ginjo, but awareness of these top grades of sake looms much, much larger.
It may be easy to think that, OK, fine, we have reached the pinnacle of sake. It cannot get any better than this. Aromas in spades, variety in terms of flavors, depth, texture, weight and umami… sake today has it all and more. But sake does continue to evolve and improve. How? In many ways.
One is certainly pasteurization. Brewers pasteurize sake to stabilize it, but the pasteurization process itself can tone down a sake’s liveliness. Over the past twenty years or so, hassle-laden methods have come into development that stabilize sake yet do not strip it of its youth or character. Expensive heat exchangers that heat and then cool the sake almost instantaneously, or showering bottled sake in hot then cold water just to the point of inducing stability, have come to be commonplace. Such processes continue to be tweaked by each brewery to best fit their style of sake.
Yet another is bottle storage. Most sake is stored in tanks for six months or so for maturation before being bottled. Recently, brewers have discovered that storing in bottles leads to a subtly but noticeably more fine-grained flavor. Sure, it takes much more space, cost and energy, but it is worth it in the opinion of many brewers. This has certainly raised the bar for premium sake a healthy notch.
Also, we are seeing a resurgence in popularity of a couple of traditional styles like yamahai and kimoto that had seemingly fallen out of favor. As sake became more aromatic, the more umami-laden, richer styles were less commonly seen for a while. But many young brewers and consumers realized that the old ways lasted for centuries for a very good reason. Today, more and more traditional styles of sake—richer, fuller, earthier sake—and much of what is enjoyable gently warmed are coming back to the market.
This is surely one of the most interesting aspects of the sake world: the co-existence of modern technology and traditional methods. In fact, for all the data, tools, measurement equipment and research at the disposal of brewers today, brewing craftsmen still rely more than anything else on their five senses, their experience and their intuition.
Still, sake consumption continues to languish in Japan.
There have been many changes over sake’s long history, but certainly some of the most turbulent changes have come about in the last 100 years. Industrialization, societal changes and a decimating war have all had huge effects on the sake industry. During the long recovery of the 1960s, Japan’s infrastructure improved, allowing larger breweries to enter tiny local markets all over the country. Countless local, smaller breweries were snuffed from existence. Overall consumption grew, peaking in the early 1970s, but has been more or less in steady decline since then. It is now at less than a third of what it once was in the 1970s. Of course, increased international trade and globalization presented local consumers with so many more choices, leading to the same decrease in sake consumption that has affected indigenous alcoholic beverages of countries around the world.
All of these realities combined to redraw the sake map of Japan, and what was once over 10,000 active kura in the 1920s is down to about 1250 today.
Much of the industry has remained slow to adapt. Many of the old guard stoically chose to stick with shrinking local markets, changing little if anything, including packaging or products. But especially over the last 15 years or so, some are beginning to catch up with a vengeance. Among the generation that now seems to be taking the baton for the next 30-year run, fresh thinking and new approaches are becoming much more common. It’s going to be intriguing to watch. But is it too little, too late? Not if we have anything to say about it!
Exports alone will not help the industry revive itself. Domestic consumption needs to increase as well. Hopefully, if the rest of the world is enjoying sake, domestic consumers will take a second look at their own national beverage, reviving interest.
Undoubtedly, sake is by far more popular than ever before overseas, though only about two percent of all sake is exported. Compare that with thirty percent for French and Italian wine. In a promising trend, sake exports from Japan are growing better than ten percent a year, with no signs at all of slowing down. What drives this?
Certainly, the continued popularity of Japanese food, in particular sushi, has had a lot to do with it. But sake has a great presence and following as a connoisseur beverage on its own, and this has helped it develop the requisite momentum.
Also there is what I like to call the “luscious circle” effect. As good sake came to be understood and enjoyed, more and more breweries and importers wanted to get into the game. This drove competition, which drove quality, which drove demand, which drove supply again. And, with so much more competition, distribution routes began to take better care of sake—it stayed fresher, and things got even better.
We also owe a great deal to the wine community, in particular open-minded sommeliers who have taken the time to study sake and its potential with non-Japanese food. This brings it all that much closer to the average person wherever they consume sake overseas.
More and more people find sake easy to understand and immensely appealing as a sipping beverage. It is approachable, simple and delightfully unpretentious. Sake’s subtlety and depth of finely-wrought flavor and aroma make it unique.
A number of factors from outside the world of sake itself are also augmenting its rise. People all over the world are showing reawakened interest in hand-crafted, artisanal food and drink as they become more exposed to (and rediscover) their respective cultures’ pre-industrial roots. And with today’s borderless world having shrunk so small, we are all increasingly interested in the craft-laden food and drink long enjoyed in other cultures as well.
The best news is that this upward spiral shows no signs of slowing down. Sake is close to reaching a kind of popular critical mass. When that happens, look out—sake will be wherever people the world over are drinking fine alcohol.
Indeed, sake is an idea whose time has finally come.
