Great sake should have a great label. Here's a brew that definitely got one. Kiyoizumi junmai-ginjo shiboritate. Say no more.
Back in those innocent early days – fresh off the plane, no kanji reading ability, no reliable sources of info that were not Jean Pearce (this was pre-Tokyo Journal) – I had little idea what constituted good sake. But through a process of trial and error I found a few brands I liked, and I'd look out for them in the shops.
This was important, since many sake shops only seeemed to stock the magnum isshobin (1.8 L) bottles, and it's not easy to drink your way through one of those if the sake inside is too cloying, too rough or too sweet (in the pre-jizake days, amakuchi was the default setting for all nihonshu). So I used to buy my sake by the label – only logos/motifs/designs I could recognize a second time.
So what's changed? Well, I read a whole lot more kanji now (though still not all the esoteric names of the sake breweries and their products), and I have a much clearer idea of what I like. Plus there's a whole lot of much better sake around these days. But I still tend to buy it by the label. It's the same approach: if the design's good enough, then I might remember it the next time – providing I can remember if it tasted any good, of course.
Here's one I really like, both inside and out. A classic label with a modern/retro (or is that retro/modern) design; and hugely drinkable booze inside. Kiyoizumi is brewed by the excellent Kusumi brewery in Niigata. This is shiboritate – the new season's freshly pressed sake, full of life and vitality. It's light in the Niigata style, but with the subtle complexity you expect of a junmai-ginjo.
What's all that all mean? Memorize the label: this sake is as good as it looks.
