Sometimes, the best things in life happen unexpectedly.
It was a cold and rainy day in March, and we were walking towards a famous coffee roaster that I wanted to check out near Nishiki Market.
As I was holding my umbrella in one hand and navigating with Google Maps with the other, a small store with warm yellow lights caught my attention.
Nihonshu (日本酒) was written on its signboard, and that was enough to stop me in my tracks.
“Sake or coffee?” I asked myself. And at that particular moment in time, the answer was sake.
I turned right, kept my umbrella and walked into Asano Nihonshu Ten (浅野日本酒店). The Wife, who’s also an alcoholic avid nihonshu drinker, happily followed.
Down the Rabbit Hole
Immediately, we were greeted by row-upon-row and shelf-upon-shelf of Japanese sake.
There were those I had tried like Raifuku (来福), Dassai (獺祭) and Kid (紀土), those that I wanted to try like Daishichi (大七), Yuki no Bosha (雪の茅舎) and Mimurosugi (みむろ杉) and so many other labels that I didn’t even recognise.
I was like a kid in a candy store. Except that I was of legal drinking age, and everything contained alcohol.
It was hard to contain my excitement, especially after I spotted two entire rows of Kaze no Mori sakes. Their Alpha 1 junmai nama muroka genshu was our first introduction to the label, and it’s still among our all-time favourites.
Since then, I’ve been on an active lookout for bottles that are part of the Kaze no Mori Alpha series, specifically:
- Alpha 1 “Gateway to the Next Chapter”
- Alpha 2 “The Height of Refinement”
- Alpha 3 “Bridge to the World”
- Alpha 4 “A New Hope”
- Alpha 5 “Exploring Warm Sake”
- Alpha 6 “Respect for No. 6”
- Alpha 7 “Once-in-a-lifetime Encounters”
- Alpha 8 “Power of the Ground”
I had recently passed the halfway mark of my life’s mission to drink sake from all 47 prefectures of Japan, and it seemed like a good time to embark on a side quest. Namely, to try all eight Alpha sakes.
Alpha 1 was already in the bag, and we had the opportunity to try Alpha 4 purely by chance.
We were at a sake tasting session at Ippudo Ramen in Singapore, and the table next to us had a bottle open. Throughout the night, I was stealing furtive glances and must have been caught because our neighbour offered us two generous glasses.
He happened to be the person in-charge of all 14 Ippudo outlets in Singapore. The bottle wasn’t even on the menu, and came from the private stash of a director of Ippudo worldwide and the wife of the founder, who was also there that night.
Now, I had a chance to take another step forward.
Kaze no Mori (風の森)
Asano Nihonshu Ten had a standing bar counter where customers could sample their sake by the glass. They offered tasting flights covering the numerous brands that they carried, and my eyes immediately zoomed in to Kaze no Mori.
“Sumimasen, Kaze no Mori onegaishimasu,” I said, while pointing to the photo on the menu card.
They didn’t only have Alphas, but also stocked many other bottles in their fridge. It was a fantastic opportunity and I thought, “Why not order two flights, and sample six Kaze no Mori sakes in one sitting?”
Yes, why not? Especially since I had The Wife beside me for reinforcement.
Lunch had long been digested, and to avoid drinking on an empty stomach, we ordered a couple of bar snacks: blowtorched mackerel and cheese sticks.
The mackerel was oily and bursting with flavour. Despite my initial concern that it would overwhelm the sakes, it somehow managed to remain in the background and let the drinks take centre stage.
Likewise for the cheese sticks, with embedded bits of smoked daikon and thin outer covering of fishcake. It was the first time we had tried anything like it, and The Wife was smitten by its unique flavour.
Flight One
Naturally, we started with the Alphas, specifically the Alpha 1, Alpha 1 Dry and Alpha 2.
All three were nama (single pasteurised), muroka (unfiltered) genshus (undiluted) sakes made using Akitsuho (秋津穂) rice varietal native to Nara prefecture.
And all three were brewed using the ancient bodaimoto (菩提酛) method that predates more modern techniques like kimoto (生酛) and yamahai (山廃).
The differences lay in their Alcohol by Volume (ABV) and Rice Polishing Ratio (RPR), also known as Seimaibuai (精米歩合).
| Sake | RPR | ABV |
|---|---|---|
| Alpha 1 | 70% | 12.0% |
| Alpha 1 Dry | 70% | 14.0% |
| Alpha 2 | 22% | 16.0% |
To establish a baseline, the first glass we tried was the Alpha 1. It was fruity with strong melon notes and pleasantly sweet with a light acidity. Also present was a gentle effervescence, as well as just a hint of umami.
It wasn’t as amazing as we remembered, but we chalked it down to a lack of what The Wife likes to call the “element of surprise”. Still very good nonetheless, and we were glad to have been able to drink it again.
The Alpha 1 Dry was, as advertised, a drier version of its namesake. It was less playful, if you may, and tasted tighter on the tongue.
I don’t know if the 2% higher ABV was the only discrepancy, or if it was brewed differently somehow, but the contrast was clear. Between the two, we very much preferred the non-dry version.
To include the Alpha 2 in our flight, we had to pay a top up because it was classified as a premium sake. Junmai daiginjos must have an RPR of 50% or less, and this was a whopping 22% i.e. 78% of the rice grains had been polished away.
The end result was a sake with a rich and luxurious mouthfeel, with bright acidity and a delicate flavour. Perhaps this is a typical profile of high-end junmai daiginjos, but we haven’t drunk enough of those to tell.
It was clear though, that we didn’t have expensive tastes, because among all the three Alphas we drank, our favourite was still the entry-level Alpha 1.
Flight Two
Our second leg featured a diverse set of junmai sakes. While they were all nama muroka genshus made using Kyokai #7 yeast, their RPRs and rice varietals were all distinct.
| Sake | Rice Varietal | RPR |
|---|---|---|
| Akitsuho 657 | Akitsuho (秋津穂) | 65% |
| Yamadanishiki 607 | Yamadanishiki (山田錦) | 60% |
| Omachi 807 | Omachi (雄町) | 80% |
The Akitsuho 657 was fragrant and had a dry, almost citrusy, note. It was big and bold, with a flavour that wasn’t afraid to announce itself to the world.
Whereas the Yamadanishiki 607 was the opposite. Light and slightly fruity, similar to many other junmai ginjos we’ve tried before that were made from the same rice.
Our final bottle, the Omachi 807 was quite mysterious. It smelled sweet but tasted spicy, though not overwhelmingly so. It was good on its own, but tasted even better with the torched mackerel.
Of the three, our unanimous favourite was the Omachi 807, mainly because it was so interesting. We had it cold that day, but I think it would have shined even brighter warm.
When all our glasses were emptied, the sake flight menu on the counter called out to me. There were so, so many other brands that I wanted to try.
Including, but not limited to, Daishichi, Yuki no Bosha, Mimurosugi, Kid and Gangi. But my battle-weary liver could only take so much at one go, and I had to reluctantly return the menu back to its home.
The Wife had wandered off and found a corner that sold accessories, condiments and snacks from various Japanese prefectures.
Several items caught her eye, including the cheese sticks from Hyogo that we had, vacuum-packed bags of smoked daikon from Akita and bottles of crab butter from Niigata.
Needless to say, and she ended up getting all of them.
Resistance is Futile
As we started packing up, Toshi-san, who had been taking such good care of us, fished out a bottle from a hidden fridge under the counter.
He presented it to me with a flourish and said, “When you come back, you can try this.”
“This” was a bottle of the Alpha 8. And according to Toshi-san, it was not available at retail outlets and was exclusively supplied to only sake bars and izakayas.
And just like that, I knew that I would be back.
