A Bottle of Barley Shochu

In Our Younger Days

A long time ago the popular distilled spirit shochu wasn’t available at every grocer and corner liquor store in Japan. A product of Kyushu, it took the development of the canned mixer chuhai to popularize it across the country. This occurred about half a century ago.

In those bygone times, we were drinking the barley variety in Oita, Kyushu, specifically in Beppu, killing it (or it us) on the rocks, in hazy taverns over plates of inland sea sashimi, grilled scabbard fish and Bungo ribeye beef. In our youthful naivete we loudly debated the relative merits of one brand over another, in between hollering for more ice, and a fresh bottle.

One night the proprietor of our favorite murky den, ever scornful of our boisterous ignorance, approached our table cradling a 1.8L jug of something we had never before seen. Huffing his cigarette, he growled as he leaned the neck towards our earthenware cups.

“This is a waste on you fools,” he declared in the local dialect, “but try it anyway.” He then poured us both generous portions, and pointed to the label. “And take care. It’s 40%”. This from the man who would school us for years to come in the ways of Japanese gustatory hedonism.

Awestruck and eager, we inhaled, and sipped.

Before the night was done, we had learned that this elixir could only be purchased in its place of origin – a faraway town called Hita.

And so began our peregrinations in pursuit the Amber.

A Pilgrimmage

I met my old drinking buddy this Fall in that same bayside town, our plan to drive to Hita and back in one day. From Beppu, on the inland sea coast of Kyushu, one crosses more than half the breadth of the island to reach the old samurai town. Though a rail trip on the Kyudai line, especially in the comfort of the Yufunomori Limited, is a relaxing and scenic treat, the drive offers certain benefits, as well: an easy stop anywhere along the way for a hot spring dip; a break for a cup of coffee by a robust waterfall; or the study of a weathered stone relief of Buddha’s Fudomyoo, and his retinue, in the silence of a highland valley.

Nonetheless, our primary objective was to visit a certain shochu brewery, to purchase a barrel-aged shochu of surpassing quality.

As we descended from the Kijima Highlands, following the winding road down the emerald slopes of dramatic Mt. Yufu, we agreed to make just one stop on the way. Continuing on the local road, we traveled through several dilapidated townships, finally taking a turnoff in Kokonoe, whence we soon arrived at an empty turnout with a rusted sign. The sun splashed radiant on the terraced valley, but up the mossy stone steps, the carved images stared unblinking from the forest shadows. Eroded by eight centuries of exposure to the weather, the Zuigan-ji reliefs were in better condition than I expected. As my pious companion bowed his head in prayer, I examined their features for clues as to their creator. As expected, I found none.

Arriving an hour later in Hita’s Mameda-machi, one of Japan’s best preserved Edo-era towns, we parked and took a stroll, following the narrow streets between crafts stores and traditional sweets shops. As it was now mid-day, we entered my friend’s favorite place for juuwari soba, 100% buckwheat noodles, a requirement for his nettlesome condition of gluten intolerance. After this delicious lunch we meandered the streets again, buying some gifts for the folks back home, until we ended up at the old Kuncho Brewery, founded in 1702.

You’re welcome to pass through the shop and explore the architecture and accouterments of this heritage brewery. No guide required. But we had been on this pilgrimage before, so only glanced briefly at the old rafters and casks, before returning to the richly stocked shop.

After some chatting with the ladies, and the sampling of various goods, my friend inquired if they happened to know of a rare barely shochu with a distinctive amber hue.

Of course they did! And with appreciative laughter, they recognized the put on. They would have happily continued pouring us samples, too, but we still had a long drive ahead.

Mission accomplished

With our carefully boxed bottles in the back seat, we departed for home. We did make a stop for coffee on the way, at lovely Jion Falls, but decided upon reflection to await our return to Beppu for a relaxing onsen soak. Choosing to streamline the drive, we jumped on the toll highway at the next IC, and accelerated into the forested, unpopulated uplands for the ride home.

Back in the day, there was no fast highway across Kyushu, and the trains weren’t so elegant. There weren’t as many tourists in Beppu, not even one tenth as many in Yufuin. But there were sparkling waterfalls, and steaming hot spring baths, and places to enjoy indescribably delicious food. And there were wonderful people who shared everything they had with you, heart and soul.

You will remember them fondly, forever.