Kumpai Sake Sings of Autumn Leaves

Through the trees comes Autumn with her serenade. Melodies, the sweetest music ever played. Autumn kisses we knew are beautiful souvenirs, as I pause to recall the tears seem to fall like tears.

In Autumn Serenade, Johnny Hartman's velvet baritone rolls over the pebble-lined staccato rhythm of Mcoy Tyner's intro, and John Coltrane's sax cuts through the center like a brisk wind. It's a beautiful song, steeped in melancholy, rich with imagery and texture.

I listen to this track as I pour the remaining drops of Kunpai Momiji Junmai Ginjo into my cup. Momiji, meaning "maple leaf", is their hiya-oroshi, or autumn release. Pasteurized only once after pressing, the sake retains a lively freshness and has marvelously smooth mouthfeel. While Kumpai's other sake may deliver impressive harmony, the Momiji is pure melody - soft, feminine, with high notes of ripe persimmon and only a whisper of acidity. It's a terribly compelling brew, one that captures the sweet and wistful mood of the season. I'm amazed that I've been able to hold onto it for as long as I have.


I actually got a taste of this for the first time at Kumpai Shuzo in Shizuoka, a tiny brewery run by the father-and-son team of Senji and Shigetoshi Ishikawa. Apart from growing and milling the rice, the Ishikawas do everything themselves - down to designing and producing the labels for their sake. The amount of work involved is mind-boggling.

"I have no children," Ishikawa Junior remarked, pointing to the small tank used to make the yeast starter, "expect for this one."

If you ever get the chance to visit, definitely go to Kumpai. The Ishikawas are warm, welcoming people (how could you fail to love brew masters who keep a cat on the premises?), and the sake is superb. We were lucky, in that we were taken there by the best tour guide in Shizuoka. Oh, well, looks like I just let the cat out of the bag...come back soon to read about the second unofficial Sake Blogger's Summit!