Aka Maoh Shochu Red Satan 12

A spicy one, not a sweet one. The mule format works for every dark shochu and most sake.

Cold, and fizzy enough to matter. One part spirit to three or four parts soda for shochu; one to one for sake.

The Japanese citrus that tastes like grapefruit, mandarin and lemon at once, with a floral peel. A little zest or juice goes a long way.

Montenegro, Nonino, Averna. Equal parts with a dark shochu over ice is a whole drink.

Angostura or a Japanese aromatic. Two dashes.

A stick in hot water with the spirit, or a light syrup. Winter.

Hot water in the glass first, spirit poured on top so it mixes itself. Around 40C in the glass is the sweet spot. This is not the only way, it is one way.

Cold-brewed Earl Grey brings bergamot; plain black tea brings tannin. For the aged and brown-sugar bottles.

Unsweetened, cold. One part shochu to three or four parts tea, over ice. It is the drink half of Japan orders with dinner.

The most useful tropical fruit for mixing: intensely aromatic and properly sour. Pulp with seeds, or a good puree.

Umeboshi (salt-pickled), ume syrup, or the fruit's own liqueur. Sour, salty and savory at once.

The gentle ginger. For bottles that a ginger beer would bully.

Cold-brewed sencha, unsweetened. The green tea highball is one of the most common ways shochu is actually drunk in Japan.

A pinch in the glass or a half rim. Salt does not make a drink salty in small amounts; it makes it taste more like itself.

A dried shiitake steeped in the spirit for a day. Savory and strange in the best way.

Dry cava or crémant. Topping sake with it adds the acid and the bubbles sake lacks in one pour.

One salted plum, crushed with a spoon in the glass. Salty, sour, savory.

Orange with a raspberry edge. Winter fruit; worth waiting for.

Oita's citrus, softer than sudachi. Bartenders in Oita mix it with the local barley shochu and soda.

Sharper and greener than lemon. The citrus for anything built on brown sugar or tropical fruit.

A small green citrus from Tokushima, sharper and more herbal than lime. Sold frozen or as juice in Japanese markets.

A few grinds over the top. Aroma more than heat.

A few crushed pods, or a syrup. Floral, citrusy and warm at once; it bridges fruit and spice.

Fresh juice, a syrup, or a good ginger beer. The spice that makes a low-proof drink feel like it has a backbone.

Eaten whole, peel and all. Muddle a few in a glass; the peel gives bitterness, the flesh gives tartness.

One star, steeped, for the dark bottles.

Soft water, cold, over ice or not. One to one is normal. Mix a day ahead (maewari) and the edges round off.

Cold-brewed or hot. Roasted green tea, low in bitterness, high in toast. The oyuwari of teas.

Cold-brewed. Floral without sugar. The jasmine highball is a real menu item in Japan.

Whisked into a slurry first, never dumped in dry. Bitter, umami and creamy at once.

The shortcut to a sour when there is no fresh lemon. Less sweet is better.

A dry tonic (Fever-Tree, Q). One part spirit, three parts tonic, a citrus wedge.

The non-alcoholic koji drink, sweet from rice starch alone. Blend with the spirit and ice; it is a shochu smoothie.

Bitter, bright and forgiving. Ruby or white both work; white is drier. The grapefruit sour is a real bar order in Japan, not a novelty.

Dried osmanthus flowers steeped, or the syrup. Apricot and honey, and the smell of October in Japan.

Muddled with the seeds. Green, sour and refreshing, and cheap year round.

Fresh juice, or grilled wedges for a smokier drink. The awamori fruit.

Fino or manzanilla. Savory, salty, bone dry.

A small piece steeped in the bottle overnight. Savory depth without salt.

White miso whisked into a syrup, a small spoon per drink. Salty, sweet and savory at once.

Campari, Aperol, or a Japanese bitter like Kina. The aperitivo hour is where sake and shochu make the most sense as cocktails.

A quarter ounce. Menthol and bitterness, for the darkest bottles.

Suze or Salers. Bitter root, bright yellow. A little in a highball changes everything.

A pinch of ground sansho over the top, or a few peppercorns steeped. Numbing, citrusy, green.

A rim of shichimi, or a slice of fresh chili. Heat on fruit, not on rice.

Cold, unsweetened barley tea. Every Japanese fridge has a pitcher in summer. Mix one to three over ice.

Sweet, low-acid Japanese mandarin. Juice it or drop segments in a glass. It needs a squeeze of something sharper alongside.

Cold-brewed hibiscus tea: sour, cranberry-red and floral. Acid and color in one pour.

A plain or ginger kombucha. It brings acid, bubbles and funk, all things sake is short of.

A syrup or a few dried blossoms steeped. See jasmine tea for the long drink.

Fresh juice, never bottled. The building block of the lemon sour, and the fastest way to give sake the acidity it does not have on its own.

Unsweetened juice. Sharp and a little tannic, useful for cutting sweetness.

Sour enough to be useful. Muddle a handful, or use a good puree.

Fresh in season, dried the rest of the year. Apricot and umeshu share a family, which is why they get along.

Late summer fruit with a savory edge. For the deeper bottles.

Fresh in early summer; morello or amarena in syrup otherwise. Dark cherry for aged bottles, bright cherry for sparkling.

Coconut water for lengthening, coconut milk or cream for weight.

Fresh figs muddled, or fig jam. For the aged and the brown-sugar bottles only.

Fresh in early summer, canned in syrup the rest of the year (drain it). The signature aroma of a whole school of imo shochu.

Cointreau or a dry curaçao. The sweet-and-citrus half of any sour.

A spoon of the brine, and a slice as garnish. Sweet, sour and hot at once.

A dry junmai as the lengthener for rice shochu, one to two. Low proof, all rice.

A sesame syrup, or a rim of ground sesame and salt. Toasty and rich.

Sweet, sour, almondy. A splash does the work of both syrup and citrus.

Bolder than white peach, closer to apricot. For bottles with more weight.

Cold brew, unsweetened. For barley, brown-sugar, cask-aged and awamori bottles; it will bury a daiginjo.

Green tea with popped, toasted rice. Cold-brew it. Comfort in a glass.

Dark, in small amounts, for the cask and sweet-potato bottles.

Fresh orange juice for a sparkling sake mimosa; the peel for stirred drinks with aged bottles.

A split bean in a syrup, or a good extract, in small amounts.

A bar spoon, no more. Salt, and the savory note that comes with it.

Cold-brewed chamomile as a lengthener, or steeped in the spirit.

Half-and-half or heavy cream, in the after-dinner glass only.

One white, dry-shaken. Texture without flavor.

Cordial or the liqueur. Muscat, lychee and honey in one flower.

Cold whole milk. Shochu milk-wari is a real order in Kyushu, not a dare.

The dairy-free milk that tastes of cereal, which is why it likes grain spirits.

A drop of rose water, or a rose syrup. A drop; it takes over.

Salt-pickled blossoms (rinsed) or sakura syrup. Floral, faintly almond, a touch of salt.