Legendary Toji
Celebrities of the sake world
Like all worlds, the sake world has its luminaries, its celebrities, and its legendary figures. It would stand to reason that such personages are usually the creators of sake with great reputations; in other words, we would naturally expect that most sake celebrities would be toji, the master brewers behind great brands of sake. However, quite paradoxically, oftentimes the very people that would qualify for such reputations are too humble to claim them. But there have been a few whose presence and reputation loom so large that they end up becoming reluctant legends.
Several years ago in this newsletter, I wrote about one such individual, Mr. Naohiko Noguchi. That article can be found
here, but here is a bit more about the man himself, and his most recent endeavor.
Mr. Noguchi is a toji of the Noto guild, centered in Ishikawa Prefecture, as was his father and grandfather before him. He began brewing at age 16, and after short stints at kura in Shizuoka in Mie, in 1961 he was hired as the toji at Kikuhime back in Ishikawa.
The brewery Kikuhime was very small back then, and their customer base consisted of mostly lumberjacks. Like, literally; lumberjacks. Not for them the light and delicate style that sake Mr. Noguchi was accustomed to making in Shizuoka and Mie! So he had to change things up a bit, and fast.
At that time, the yamahai methods - which lead to richer and more umami-laden sake - had all but disappeared from use, since the new (for that time) methods were faster and more predictable. So Mr. Noguchi found a kura in Kyoto still making the yamahai style that would teach him the ins and outs of actually brewing it.
Which he did, and did well. This had the multi-faceted benefit of making the lumberjacks happy, launching the reputation of his employer Kikuhime as well as that of the yamahai style of sake, and his own prowess as a toji to boot.
He reigned at Kikuhime until the retirement age of 65, garnering countless accolades along the way, and finally stepping down in 1997. The next year – yes – the very next year, he came out of “retirement” to work at nearby Kano Shuzo making the well-known sake Jokigen. This he did for 14 years, until 2012. Do that math: he retired the
second time at 79.
Mind you, sake brewing is not exactly a desk job. As much as I love sake, I have known
since the beginning that I am far too wimpy and far too easily distracted to even attempt a full season at a kura, much less a lifetime. But Mr. Noguchi did it until he was 79.
And then, he did it some more. There was one more short-lived, ill-fated project with which he was involved the next year, then he took a couple of years off. And in 2017 he came out of retirement one more time.
Why, you might ask? In his own words, “If I am not brewing sake, I get physically ill,” which in fact did happen. So it was back to sake brewing, this time as the toji at a newly constructed brewery, called “Noguchi Naohiko Kenkyu-jo,” a name which refers to the kura as a research center.
This is fitting since he hired seven younger people to work and study along with him as they brewed sake. This was at age 85, and this year they began their second brewing season, with Mr. Noguchi being 86. That’s eighty-six. Eighty. Six.
In January of this year I had the chance to visit the brewery, watch them brew for a while, and then – together with three industry colleagues – enjoy an audience with Mr. Noguchi. It was, undoubtedly, one of the most amazing encounters I have had in this industry. I had in fact met him once before about ten years ago, when I found him focused, strong-willed, yet light-hearted. But this time he seemed so much more immortal.
He has always impressed me as lucid, sharp, and articulate. Ironically, he speaks in a local dialect, Noto-ben, that is quite difficult for me to follow. In spite of that, his eloquence and clarity always show through.
But still, I had been expecting him to just be giving orders, grunting and pointing fingers to direct the brewing staff, and be hunched over charts of data curves. I did not expect him to be out in the mix, actually doing the brewing work.
But there he was: quick, dexterous and strong. Together with the young’uns, he was hauling just-steamed rice bundled in cloth, moving with speed and purpose. Later, he was in the koji-making rooms, which are kept between 35C and 45C (!) and at highly humid conditions, working on breaking up rice clumps and spreading and mixing koji mold. It is hard for a normal human being to just be in such an environment, and much harder to actually move and work in one. But there he was, looking as natural and at-home as he could be, exuding the comfort of one who knows just where he truly wants to be.
The brewery is set up for observation by visitors, with a long hallway with a glass wall facing the brewing area of the kura, raised to the level of the top of the tanks. The other wall is a long, granite tapestry of a gallery that highlights Mr. Noguchi’s life, career, and accomplishments.
By looking at that, one gets a sense of just how dedicated he has been to his craft over the years. On display were brewing texts, dog-eared and faded, filled with notes and highlights. He was said to have studied such texts so thoroughly that he memorized their content.
During our chat with him, as we discussed his career, he nonchalantly touched upon concepts like, “If you’re going to bother do something, you might as well strive to be the best at it,” and “At the end of the day, it’s the size of your dreams that counts.” He has a second career writing motivational books, I thought.
All of the above adulation notwithstanding, it is important to point out that I am just an
admiring, doting fan. I never had to work under the gentleman. He was notoriously strict, having earned the nickname “demon.” In fact, his 2003 autobiography was entitled “Demon’s Sake.” So I might not be quite so gushing had I actually had that experience. Still, I am sure the level of respect would be just as high, albeit laced with a few more emotions. But what do I know?
I do have a friend that did in fact work under Mr. Noguchi for a good 20 years or so at Kikuhime. He did not say much about the experience, nor did I ask. But he did say that, even having worked in the same brewery together, he could not even speak directly to him while working for him, and in fact not even until about ten years after both had left the company. I’m just sayin’.
In interviews and press conferences held prior to the opening of this brewery, Mr. Noguchi has said several times, “It is my wish to die brewing sake.” Let us hope his wish does not come true for many years to come.
Mr. Noguchi is not the only great toji out there, nor is he the only famous toji. Far from it! The sake world has its own celebrities, more understated then their western counterparts though they may be. But their presence and aura invigorates the sake world, and makes it all that more interesting for all of us.
You can read a bit more about Mr. Noguchi in this newsletter article that I wrote just as the kura opening was announced.
http://sake-world.com/2017/08/
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One Part Apple to Two Parts Banana
A proven formula for ginjo?
What makes a good ginjo sake? In terms of the aromas and flavors, apparently it is “one part apple to two parts banana.”
Fukushima Prefecture is currently the sake-brewing region garnering the most attention, at least as far as the industry is concerned. Consumers, of course, may not have the same figures of merit as those that brew and assess sake. There are of course many very famous Fukushima sake amongst consumers as well, but when it comes to technical prowess, most consumers could care less. But the industry pays attention to that stuff, and unquestionably, Fukushima rocks.
They so rock, in fact, that they are set to win more gold medals in the National New Sake Tasting Competition than any other prefecture for the seventh year in a row. Furthermore they have reached that pinnacle nine times in the last twelve years.
There are a number of reasons for this, including cooperation amongst the brewers themselves, but also support from the local prefectural government. And that support is spearheaded by Mr. Kenji Suzuki of the Technical Support Center of the Fukushima Prefecture High Tech Plaza.
A magazine called Sarai that targets middle-aged men that like to keep up on interesting things (it really is a great publication, my flippancy notwithstanding) published an issue focused on sake a few months ago. It was chock-full of articles on sake and sake brewers, and one of those was a brief article on the basics of sake assessing that included a short interview of Mr. Suzuki. In it, he gave tips on how to taste sake, and learn to taste it better.
He emphasized that the main thing is balance between the aromas and flavors. In other words, what you smell in a sake should give you an inkling of how it will taste. If there is too large of a disconnect, it might not be such a great sake, but when that gossamer thread of consistency runs perceivably through the aromas to the flavors, many people in general tend to find that appealing.
The article also described the concrete characteristics that are found in those sake that regularly do well in blind tastings. And Mr. Suzuki explained that sake that does well in such events tends to have aromas and flavors that are characterized by about twice as much isoamyl acetate as ethyl caproate.
Unappetizing as that may sound, both of those are aromatic compounds created by the yeast during fermentation. Note too that these are not limited to sake; they are found in wine and other beverages as well, at least to some degree. But they are large part of modern sake aromatic and flavor profiles. And in short, isoamyl acetate smells a lot like banana, and ethyl caproate smells a lot like apple, although it can also come across as strawberry, tropical fruit or even anise.
So a more memorable and practical way to describe ginjo and daiginjo that often win awards is “one part apple to two parts banana.”
In fact, quite a lot of research goes into these things. I recall reading somewhere that apparently there is no animal (including us, of course) that dislikes the smell of banana. (Don’t go quotin’ me on that, since I do not recall where I read it.) So we can see why that is an integral part of the aromatic profile of popular sake.
Remember that this does not apply to all sake! Ginjo and daiginjo tend to be aroma-driven, or at least, if people are paying for such sake they want aromas to be prominent. Which is fine. But such sake is not the only type of sake worth drinking, and in fact, many sake fans prefer less aromatically ostentatious sake. Pronounced aromas are not obligatory.
Bear in mind always that personal preference always tops any other standard that may be out there. If you like it, then you like it. It doesn’t matter if it is one part apple to two parts banana, two parts apple to one part banana, or one part racoon loins to two parts cigarette butts. De gustibus non est disputandum (about taste there is no dispute).
However, in blind tastings on the ginjo and daiginjo level, results tend to favor the above-described formula. And, really, the main point here is that these things can be scientifically categorized, and this gives sake brewers a “strike zone” for which to aim, if brewing such sake is their goal.
Over time, aromatic profiles in sake – and in particular in the ginjo and daiginjo grades – tend to become more prominent, then less so, with different aromas falling in and out of popularity. But at least for lively styles of sake, “one part apple to two parts banana” seems to have maintained its appeal over the years.
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