Chingu White Iki Barley Shochu

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

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

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

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.

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.

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

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

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

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

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

Ribbons or muddled slices. Cucumber is what turns a glass of sake into something you would drink on a porch.

Dolin dry or Noilly Prat. A quarter of the sake's volume, stirred.

Green shiso leaves, slapped or muddled gently. Red shiso as a syrup. Japan already makes shiso shochu, which tells you it works.

Good tomato juice, or a ripe tomato muddled and strained. Sake's umami and tomato's are chemically the same thing.

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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

Fino or manzanilla. Savory, salty, bone dry.

Muddled gently with citrus. Thai basil brings anise, Italian basil brings pepper.

Juiced, or a stalk as the stirrer. Savory, salty and cold.

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

Young sansho leaves, clapped between the palms and floated. Hard to find outside Japanese markets in spring, worth the hunt.

Bruised stalks steeped in the spirit, or a syrup. Citrus without acid, which is useful when you want aroma but not sourness.

Torn leaves steeped briefly. Perfumed citrus without juice.

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

Gentler than rosemary. Steep a sprig, or use a thyme syrup.

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

Fresh juice, strained. Add a pinch of salt.

The Korean-style yuzu preserve sold in jars. A spoon in hot water with shochu, or shaken cold.

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

A drop. Think of it as salt with depth, for the savory glass only.

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

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

Almond syrup with a touch of orange blossom. The tiki sweetener, and kokuto shochu is a tiki spirit waiting to happen.

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

Cold-pressed juice or thin slices. Green apple is the aroma many ginjo sake already carry, so this is amplification rather than addition.

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

The concentrate, diluted with soda. Yogurt-sweet and sour. The Calpis sour is a national drink in Japan.

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

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

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

Warm kombu-and-bonito stock, lightly seasoned, mixed with the spirit. It sounds strange and tastes like an oden counter.

Fronds, gently muddled. For the savory, saline glass.

One white, dry-shaken. Texture without flavor.

St-Germain or similar. A half ounce is enough.

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

Diluted one to one with warm water so it mixes cold. A little goes far; taste before adding more.

Ripe honeydew, juiced or in cubes. If a bottle says melon on the label, this is the proof.

Slapped, not muddled to bits. Mint reads as cold, which makes any low-proof drink feel more refreshing.

Green muscat grapes, halved or juiced. Shine Muscat if you can find it.

A good one (Giffard, Merlet). A shortcut to the bellini when peaches are out of season.

Ripe pear, muddled or as nectar. Delicate, so it belongs with delicate bottles.

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

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

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.

A rice-grain amount, dissolved. For the savory, cucumber glass, not the fruit one.

The bellini fruit. Nectar from a Japanese market, or a ripe peach muddled through a strainer.

Sweet yuzu liqueur, usually on a sake or shochu base. A shortcut to yuzu when the fruit is out of season.

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

A bar spoon. Cassis-oolong is one of the most common izakaya orders 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.