Its name means literally "rice-paddy sake." As if declaring it competes on the umami of rice alone, it committed early to brewing without any added distilled alcohol. No flashy ginjo aromatics — just an honest, head-on contest with Tsugaru's rice and water. A face of Aomori that every sake lover names at least once.
Pairs with:Kaiyaki-miso (miso simmered in a scallop shell) / Ika-yaki (grilled squid)
A Hirosaki sake named directly after the rare sake rice the brewery grows itself, "Hohai-mai." Only a handful of brewers are said to be able to handle this rice, which yields a fragrant aroma and plump umami. The name is said to derive from a Tsugaru folk song, steeped in local memory. The more you drink, the more the apple-country scenery of Hirosaki seems to rise up.
A popular, fruity and light-footed label beloved in the port town of Hachinohe. The "hassen" (eight immortals) in its name carries a playful spirit, and the taste is refreshingly free of stiffness. Chilled in a glass, it can even be enjoyed like a wine. A cheerful bottle that suits sea breezes and the buzz of food stalls.
In the Tsugaru dialect the name means "stubborn one" — a sake with backbone from the very start. True to its name, it has been loved locally for its unwavering, firm dry character. Its plain, honest taste is said to embody the reticent, craftsman-like spirit of Tsugaru. Before a winter hotpot, you'll want it served piping hot.
Hard to read, pronounced "Uto." The elegant, enigmatic name comes from a seabird of the same name that lives along Aomori's coast. Its crisp, clean taste chimes well with the quiet of the name. A connoisseur's bottle that only those who can read it will reach.
A contemporary label with eye-catching vivid labels, named from the Buddhist term "rokkon shojo" (purifying the six senses). A witty name that seems to say: sharpen your senses — eyes, ears, nose — and taste. Its light, modern drinkability, crafted by young brewers, is the draw. A bottle blowing fresh wind into traditional Tsugaru.