Nikaido Oita Mugi Shochu

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

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.

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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 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.

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

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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.

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

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.

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

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.

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

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.

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

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

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

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 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.

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

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