Nami Hana Batch #25 Big Island Sweet Potato Shochu

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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.

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

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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

Angostura or a Japanese aromatic. Two dashes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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

Fresh juice, strained. Add a pinch of salt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

One white, dry-shaken. Texture without flavor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fino or manzanilla. Savory, salty, bone dry.

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

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

Torn leaves steeped briefly. Perfumed citrus without juice.

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

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

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

One star, steeped, for the dark bottles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.