Kuon Ryukyu Awamori

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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.

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

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.

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

Fino or manzanilla. Savory, salty, bone dry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ripe banana, muddled or as a syrup. The banana note in ginjo sake is real chemistry, not a metaphor.

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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

Ripe mango puree. Needs lime beside it or it goes flat.

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

The neutral sweetener. Use when you want to balance acid without adding a flavor.

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

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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

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