One of my most vivid alcohol-related memories is going to Kyoto in the summer of 2003 and trying my first shochu drink. I was visiting Japan’s former capital with my dad’s new wife, Sachiyo. Sachiyo is but a memory, but the impact she left on me the moment she casually ordered an oolong-hi (shochu iced tea) for me would last forever. Sitting on the tatami mats in an izakaya (Japanese-style pub) overlooking the Kamo River in Kyoto, our feet were finally free from the confines of our shoes and our throats were parched from a long day of sightseeing in the scorching humidity. Seeing that tall glass of shochu with oolong tea, glistening in the glare of the setting sun, touching down on our wooden table was seductive.

The first sip shuttled me back to childhood, when I would come home from school and my mom would pour mugi-cha (cold, unsweetened barley tea) out of her retro Tupperware pitcher into matching Tupperware cups. The second sip revealed shochu’s earthy aroma colliding with the sweetness of the oolong tea — this was an iced tea for adults. And the third sip made me a die-hard oolong-hi fan.

I soon discovered that canned oolong-hi’s were available in every combini (convenient stores) and izakayas across Japan were mixing shochu with all types of teas including oolong, green and even earl grey. I knew I loved this mixed drink called “oolong-hi” but I became more and more curious about its main ingredient: shochu. How come I had never heard of it before? Wasn’t sake the drink of Japan? Why were so many people abandoning their tokkuris (sake flasks) for the sound of ice crackling to the pouring of shochu?

Two years after my trip to Kyoto, I moved from California to Tokyo and I clearly landed in a country that was in the midst of a drinking trend. All of my Japanese friends were drinking shochu and when I would walk home from work every night, I would see peoples’ recycling crates filled to the brim with shochu bottles and beer cans. The diet-conscious nation was thrilled by shochu’s low-calorie content. And shochu’s agreeable nature could also place it beside virtually any dish — steak, smoked cheese, grilled chicken, etc.— dishes which typically do not pair well with sake.

Japan was experiencing a shochu craze during the 2000s. Nearly 10 years after the shochu boom in Japan, shochu is hardly known in the U.S. and is still most often mistaken for Korea’s distilled beverage, soju. So what is shochu?

Simply put, shochu is a distilled beverage native to Japan. Scotland has its Scotch, Russia has its vodka, Mexico has its tequila, and Japan has Shochu.

Shochu has always been consumed regularly in southern Japan. Since shochu’s birth in the 1500s, the default drink choice for men and women in Kyushu and Okinawa has been shochu over sake. It wasn’t until the 2000s (roughly 500 years later) when the rest of Japan caught onto shochu. Today, it is the most popular drink in terms of sales, leaving sake and beer in the dust since 2003.

Shochu is one of the few distilled drinks that is made from a wide variety of raw ingredients. The most common ingredients are barley (mugi), sweet potato (imo), short grain rice (kome) and long grain rice (awamori). The list goes on to include Kagoshima brown sugar (kokuto), carrot, buckwheat, sesame, chesnut and others. First-time drinkers are often surprised by the earthy aroma of shochu that is sometimes described as wild or rooty. The typical alcohol percentage of shochu is 20-25% which puts it well below your usual gin or other hard alcohol.

All shochu can be grouped into two categories: honkaku and kourui. Honkaku shochus in Japan are enjoyed in a fashion similar to a premium whisky. Honkaku shochus are single distilled and are considered to be premium shochus.  Just like a good whisky or mezcal, the most common way to drink honkaku shochu is neat or with a water element. The Japanese drink their honkaku shochu with ice, cold water or hot water. On a humid, hot summer day, salarymen unwind to shochu over blocks of ice. During the cold winter months, it is common to see the young and old curling up to a mug of imo shochu diluted with hot water. Oolong tea is also used as a mixer during the warmer seasons to create an oolong-hi (shochu iced tea).

Kourui shochus are multiply distilled and due to the less characteristic nature of kourui, they work well with sugary mixers. The well-like use of kourui extends to the ubiquitous canned chu-hi available in convenience stores and all-you-can-drink karaoke boxes across Japan. Chu-hi cocktails consist of one part shochu, two parts soda water and a splash of juice. Chu-his are reminiscent of a vodka press or greyhound.

Think of kourui shochu as the shochu you would find in the well, whereas honkaku would be considered “top shelf”.

Side bar? I don’t know how you want to incorporate this information. There is a lot of information here that distinguishes the different variations from each other so I think that a lot of it is important. If you want to integrate it into the head of the piece, please feel free. Shiso is not a variation of a shochu. I mentioned a cocktail using shiso in it. Hope that’s what you were asking about (added info about that in the Awamori section). Shochu can be infused with shiso but I have never tried that before.

Mugi (Barley)

Perhaps because we are used to other drinks that are made from barley, mugi (barley) shochu is in most cases the easiest entry way for people who want to explore the world of shochu. Mugi shochu echos the mild sweetness of whisky and is considered to have a less earthy aroma than imo (sweet potato). Mugi shochu is clear in color, except for the aged varieties which are a light brown. Mugi shochu can be described as having a chocolatey, round aroma and can be enjoyed on the rocks or neat.

Imo (Sweet Potato)

Imo shochu spearheaded the shochu boom of the early 2000s in Japan. It smells like baked sweet potato which distinguishes itself from other variations of shochu. Imo shochu lovers enhance the aroma by adding hot water to fully enjoy the characteristics of the drink. Imo shochu is clear in color in most cases and is often described as sweet, but full of character. Imo shochu is a fitting recommendation for alcohol enthusiasts, adventurous eaters and seasoned shochu drinkers.

Kome (Short Grain Rice)

The obvious parallel to mention here is that kome shochu shares the same main ingredient as sake (nihonshu), so it is no coincidence that it exhibits the same sweet and light aroma of sake. But the comparison ends here as the process of distilling greatly deviates kome shochu from the taste of sake. Kome is lighter and crisper than barley and imo shochus making it easy to pair with virtually any type of food–raw or cooked.

Awamori

Made from long grain rice, awamori is a shochu variation exclusively produced in Okinawa, due to a koji mold spore native to the Okinawa islands. With an average ABV of 30%, awamori is considered to be much stronger than other variations of shochus which hover around 20-25%. Awamori is categorized into two groups; shinshu (new) and koshu (aged). Shinshu awamori is clear in color and has a more pronounced boldness than koshu. Koshu awamori is aged for at least three years and is smoother than shinshu awamori. People in northern parts of Japan, including Tokyo, consider awamori to be a festive drink and enjoy awamori in times of celebration or when they eat Okinawan cuisine. Due to its high alcohol content, grassy brightness and birthplace in a warm climate, blanco tequila-lovers may find an interest in shinshu awamori.

A curious cocktail I’ve had with awamori looks like a mojito, but is actually awamori on the rocks with a dab of freshly grated wasabi and minced shiso leaves. The shiso, like mint in a mojito, provides a refreshing kick to the grassy awamori and the wasabi lends an element of sweetness.

To truly understand how shochu has become a staple in Japan’s drinking culture, one only needs to peer inside an izakaya and see a wall of bottles with tags hanging off of them. These tags have names of regular customers and wait patiently for their owners every day. This practice is called “bottle keep”ing in Japan.

My husband and I always “bottle keep” Kurokirishima (imo) at our favorite izakaya in Shimokitazawa. Like a mirage in the middle of the desert, the image of our very own bottle kept me going during those stressful days at work, providing a sense of home admidst the busy streets of Tokyo.

 by Yoko Kumano with Washi Washino