A small river curves around a bend with water so clear you can see the stones and rocks that form each ripple as it gently flows downstream. One bank has a sharp incline, with spring trees gaining viridescent tips, creating a feathered texture, and a solitary cherry tree blossoming soft pink flowers. The other bank slopes upwards toward a road that runs perpendicular to the river, a dark strip of tarmac flanked by bright green trees with almost-black trunks and red buildings, leading the eye to a rocky, simian-shaped outcrop nicknamed ‘Gorilla Mountain’.
This is the setting for the Miyagikyo distillery of Nikka Whisky. It is a reflection of the careful and thoughtful approach to whisky that Nikka takes – from the specificity of the buildings’ colour to contrast with the greenery to the natural river (coincidently named Nikkawa) whose clarity of water was the deciding factor for Nikka founder Masataka Taketsuru when building a distillery there.
As visitors, we will never fully understand a place, nor should we seek to, but experiencing a country through an industry that is so focused on flavour and place allows us insight into both culture and landscape.It is hard not to romanticise Japan, especially when you are met with vistas such as those I experience at the Miyagikyo Distillery. The word Japonisme connotes a period of time in the 1800s when there was a Western craze for Japanese art and design.
With the images of Japan the West receives in the present day – of cherry blossoms, Kyoto, geishas, impeccable minimalist design, the bullet train, and, of course, the undeniable visual references of sci-fi films and literature like Blade Runner and The Fifth Element – we can see this same romanticising of the culture being filtered through to the European mindset, creating a false lens that can strip nuance from a place. But if you look beyond a romantic flattening of visuals, you see people, the present, a sense of momentum, and a past.
Lake Green and the Miyagikyo distillery
An origin story: from apples to whisky
The trip begins with cherry blossoms and apples. I arrive in Hirosaki, a city in Aomori Prefecture, north of the main island of Honshu, and walk through the grounds of the 17th-century Hirosaki Castle, where thousands of cherry trees line the pathways. Some of the trees have bloomed, each with a slightly different hue of pink or white, and for those that haven’t, I can see their budding blossoms and easily imagine how they would look awash with flowers.
Naoki Tomoyoshi, Nikka Whisky's global marketing and sales representative, tells us that there are a lot of theories on why cherry blossoms are important to the Japanese. The one he prefers is its link to samurai culture and the idea of cherishing each moment, as life is precious and fleeting. It’s here in Hirosaki that I visit Nikka’s current cidery, tucked away among orchards. Aomori is known for its apples – sweet, red, eating apples that Nikka makes into a complex and dry cider akin to European ciders, as well as apple wine and brandy.
Nikka was incorporated as Dai Nippon Kaju in 1934 – the Great Japanese Juice Company – in Yoichi, Hokkaido, which, at the time, was ripe with apples. The first liquor made by Masataka’s fledgling company was apple wine, which was produced in 1938 at Yoichi Distillery, set on the coast an hour from the city of Sapporo. Located on the northern island of Hokkaido, the countryside surrounding the distillery features open plains, snow-capped hills and glimpses of the ocean when I visit in April.
A peaked headland dominates the seaside port village where Yoichi Distillery stands. Its sharp cliff face and rugged landscape recalls the Scottish Highlands. Yoichi is a working place with practical housing – and a poignant reminder that beautiful things, like a whisky's flavour, consist of labour and people and place, and to create good things, those people need a working village.
Founder Masataka Taketsuru, who came from a sake-making family, started Nikka – or, at the time, Dai Nippon Kaju – after returning from a whisky-making expedition to Scotland. There, he met and married Rita, and the pair moved to Japan. He was the first Japanese man to embark upon such a trip, and Scotland made a significant impression on him with its whisky-making and rugged, sublime mountainscapes. In Japan, the environments in which the Nikka products are made are as much a part of the brand’s story as the liquids themselves, much like how the Scottish mountains imbue Scotch with a sense of place, too.
Copper alembic stills
A legacy of innovation and tradition
Yoichi Distillery is sprawling and expands organically as the company grows. The house where Masataka and Rita Taketsuru lived has been moved onto the grounds, offering insight into a couple who were keen to make the company feel like a family. From the beginning, they focused on work-life balance, an unusual outlook at the time, and created a sense of community and collegiality within the company.
The pot stills and coal-fired distillation are emblematic of Nikka. Masataka brought the tradition back from Scotland, inspired by a visit to the Longmore Distillery. These coal-fired stills fuel a romantic notion of whisky’s rich tradition. And they look beautiful: elegant stills adorned with Japanese paper blessings, ferocious heat reminiscent of the effort and labour that goes into the liquid. To continue distilling this way, Nikka has installed state-of-the-art filtration to ensure they aren’t polluting the air with by-products.
Whisky popularity peaked in Japan in the late 1980s. The economic bubble burst in the 90s, forcing the closure of many distilleries, including Nikka’s Nichinomiya plant in 1999, and the Coffey stills from there were installed at Miyagikyo Distillery. In the late noughties, whisky drinking surged in popularity with the growing trend of highballs, but it never reascended to its previous heights. Naoki doesn’t believe it will return to the 80s heyday, “as it was backed by artificial economic power, the population is decreasing and ageing, and there are many more choices for the consumer today.”
Whisky has a particular place in Japanese history, and it is at Miyagikyo Distillery that we can contextualise it, where you see the blend of whisky-making traditions, innovation and adaptation, with a focus on flavour. To get to the distillery, you drive through rice fields in Sendai. The area is celebrated for its rice growing, a practice that dates back four centuries. The landscape then winds into tree-lined hills, with ‘traditional’ farmhouses with wide-tiled roofs, peaked at each end. Wild cherry blossom trees dot the landscape.
Where the Yoichi distillery favours coal and only uses malted barley, the Miyagikyo distillery uses pot stills, heated by steam to imbue the liquid with a softer and more floral flavour, as well as Coffey stills, a specific manner and method of distilling, which Masataka learnt in 1919 when at Bo'ness in Scotland. At Miyagikyo, they also use a variety of grains. Although not easy or particularly efficient to operate, the creamy notes of Coffey stills have become synonymous with the brand's whiskies.
Nikka is a nuanced entanglement of the old, the new, the traditional and the innovative. Taking a non-Japanese spirit-making tradition, honouring that history and inspiration, and creating something new is fundamental to its identity. It is easy to see the influence that Scotland has exerted on Nikka, from the environments in which the distilleries are built to the way the whisky is made. However, the use of other grains and the delicate flavour profiles that come out of many Nikka whiskies show a particular palate and uniqueness. The legacy that Masataka instilled is one of creating innovation through respect for tradition and history, and it’s had a surprising, lasting influence on the broader world of Japanese drinks.
The Yoichi distillery
Developing bar culture
Nikka’s global bartending competition, The Perfect Serve, encompasses what Japanese bartending can be. The competition focuses on service: the Japanese philosophy of ichi-go, ichi-e, translating as ‘one moment, one encounter’. It takes an omakase approach in which a bartender serves each drink in a single, isolated moment, an experience seen as unique and fleeting. “We see this mentality as the essential part of bar-‘tending’,” Naoki, who used to be an award-winning bartender himself, explains, emphasising the word ‘tending’. This competition is about the future of bartending, but “We are supporting and nurturing future ‘stars’ by spreading the idea that the ‘star’ in the house is the guest.” This philosophy looks to the future while weaving in a traditional sensibility and approach to bar culture.
What better place to contextualise my findings from the Nikka distillery than in some of the country’s best bars? In Sapporo, bright lights pave the way to a bar on the sixth floor of a high-rise – Owl & Rooster – my favourite of the trip. Opened in 2020, the venue is cosy and wood-panelled, like a friend’s living room if it were in an office block. The drinks are simple and elegant but decidedly modern – an Old Fashioned with hojicha (green tea) cordial, for instance, or a Whisky Sour with orange and agave. We also enjoy drinks at Bar Yamazaki, where the walls are hung with pictures of Masataka and award-winning drinks from the 1970s and 80s. My favourite cocktail, the California Shower, is superbly refreshing and bright blue; it has been on the menu for over 30 years.
Like Japanese whisky, the bar scene in Japan draws on global heritage, reshapes tradition, embeds a Japanese sense of culture, and influences the world. “At Nikka, we see innovation not as a random new thing but as something rooted in tradition. Every ‘new’ thing we create is based on tradition with the additions of new elements,” Naoki says. Although referencing Nikka, this idea is on display in all the bars I visit.
While the world focused on colourful, sweet or frozen cocktails in the 80s and 90s, bartenders in Japan quietly did their own thing. The approach developed in the country over that time – homing in on attention to detail, the guest experience, the process, seasonality, fresh ingredients, and the use of 3-piece shakers, jigger and bar spoons, not to mention the large, clear blocks of ice that have become a global standard in most high-end bars.
Whisky isn’t just awash in the bar scene, though – it’s also commonplace in restaurants, creating an intriguing relationship between eating and drinking. There is a relaxed sociability and shift in approach to spirits when food is involved. I loved being at izakayas, eating potato salad, karaage, yakitori, sashimi, the best tempura I have ever had, and drinking Whisky Highballs as well as one of my new favourite drinks – the Whisky Mizuwari – essentially, whisky and cold water which is served with ice in a tall glass.
The Whisky Highball is a good alternative to a beer. Carbonated and refreshing, it’s a great option when dining in a relaxed izakaya. During a tasting meal in Hirosaki, we tried various strengths of Whisky Mizuwari to pair with dishes and it was a revelation to see how different whisky/water ratios changed the texture and flavour profiles of the drink.
In the West, we rarely see whisky as a drink paired with food, while in Malaysia (where I am from), my uncles often drink whisky when eating with ice and a little water. But seeing the thoughtful and careful way that they combine the two liquids leads me to think of the myriad possibilities for matching food and whisky, with water as an ingredient rather than a means of dilution. This approach allows both the food and the whisky to be stars of the show, and I continue to enjoy food paired with Whisky Mizuwaris throughout my trip in a variety of culinary situations.
Drinking establishments in Tokyo
Tokyo, a city of bars
Of the ten days I’m in Japan, five nights are spent in Tokyo, three of which are solo. Tokyo feels magic in the way that being somewhere new, away from home, feels magic, but also because I don’t know what to expect; each moment resonates with the unknown. Seeing the Shibuya crossing from the skyscraper heights of my hotel room is like a filmic postcard: a thick stream of people traversing the black-and-white painted street. Crossing in lockstep with the crowd feels paced, natural and synchronised with this corner of the city.
Like most large international cities, you can count on the bar scene to be innovative. However, Japan’s impact on the current global bar scene makes being in Tokyo especially exciting. Tokyo Confidential sits on a high-rise overlooking Tokyo Tower from the balcony. Brit Holly Graham and New Zealander Tom Egerton, who lived and travelled throughout Asia, own the bar. It’s a lot of fun, ideal for a solo drinker with a bar that winds around the space so that it’s easy to strike up a conversation with the bartender or other patrons. There’s a sense of international inspiration, but Tokyo Confidential nevertheless echoes the weaving of old and new that I’ve experienced throughout the trip.
There’s Bar Trench, opened in 2010 and tucked away on a small street in Ebise. It is tiny, dark and cosy, where the lines between history and tradition as well as global and local influences are more blurry. My favourite Tokyo bar is Unknown, a gorgeous tea and cocktail bar that specialises in infusing gin with tea, a combination that they recommend guests drink with soda.
On the final night, I visit Mixology Heritage, which is specific in its distinct international influences. The menu is divided into three sections: Ultimate Cocktails, which use vintage bottles; Japanese Legendary, with recipes created by Japanese bartending legends; and Mixology Cocktails, which are created by the current team (referred to on the menu as “the future bar culture”). I enjoy the Ultimate Martini, in which they blend four Gordon’s gins from 1990, ‘60, ‘50 and ‘40, with Noilly Prat from 1990 and their homemade bitters. Other highlights include the infusion of cognac with 150g of blue cheese for a Blue Cheese Martini and an Old Fashioned with Zacapa rum infused with roasted green tea.
From the warm wood-panelled room of Mixology Heritage, I walk down the road and enter the busy cluster of Yurakucho’s izakayas – most of which are tucked under the arches of railway tracks. Neon signage and red lanterns splash light onto the streets while young Japanese people attempt to lure me into each establishment. I eat enough for two – ramen, potato salad, and fried chicken – drinking Whisky Highballs, surrounded by people, noise, and frenetic movement.
In many ways, this ending to my trip, the unrelenting rush and whoosh of one of the world's most energetic cities, contrasts with the first few days that were spent among cherry-blossomed parks, seaside villages and gentle rivers. However, the delicate tapestry of the past and the future is visible to visitors in either location. As Naoki explains to me, “Tradition and innovation are connected. We love new things that push the industry forward as well as the beautiful tradition behind it.” This last night in Japan, I sense the connected thread of hospitality weaving the country together, and embrace the idea of experiencing each moment in its originality.
