2-3 My First Bottle of Sake
- Travel to Face
- Nov 17
- 3 min read
Updated: Nov 25
— An Unexpected Encounter on the Way Home —
Walking the Usual Path
Work finished, and as always, I walked down Kappabashi Main Street toward Ginza Line Tawaramachi Station.
The kappa painted on the signboard of “Kappabashi Hondōri Kōnishikai Shopping Street” saw me off with its usual round, vacant eyes.
Ahead, the Sky Tree rose into the sky, its expression changing with the color of the backdrop. Now it glowed gently, tinted red by the setting sun.
Two boys, probably elementary school students, ran across the street in front of me, laughing and chatting before disappearing into a side alley. One held a soccer ball under his arm.
I peeked into the alley, and saw them vanish into a small park at the back.
A park? I never knew that was there.
I stepped into the alley myself.
A Park, and a Store Beyond It
Three zelkova trees stood quietly in the park. Their neatly parallel leaf veins looked charming.
Lowering my gaze from the leaves, I noticed a stylish-looking shop across the park.
What kind of store is that?
A single large pane of glass revealed its interior. On the counter beyond the window, bottles stood lined up—wine, perhaps?
The white, black, and red design of one label captured my heart instantly.
A foreign couple chatted happily with someone who seemed to be a staff member.
I left the park and approached the shop. The same couple stepped outside. The man caught my eye and gave me a playful wink. I quickly looked away.
In the glass reflection, I saw myself—with the same empty kappa eyes as before. Suppressing a laugh, I opened the shop door.
The Gentle Shopkeeper
“Welcome,” said the man behind the counter— the same person who had been speaking with the couple.
A large counter filled much of the interior, and two women sat talking in the back.
I searched the shelves for the bottle I’d seen, but everything was Japanese sake.
Was that bottle wine after all?
This wasn’t a wine shop— it was a sake shop.
“Are you looking for something?” asked the smiling man behind the counter.
He fit perfectly the description of “a kind, gentle uncle.”
“I saw a bottle from outside— with a label designed in white, black, and red…” I said, glancing toward the large glass window that reflected the park’s zelkovas.
“Oh, that would be Senkin Nature,” he said.
He opened the refrigerator, took out the bottle, and placed it on a display table decorated with small items and other sake.
“This isn’t wine?” I asked.
“The design is stylish, right? But it’s Japanese sake. According to the brewery Senkin, the label depicts a crane.”
“A crane… the bird? It does look like a red-crowned crane.”
“A crane, yes— but a crane from the spirit realm, where immortals live.”
Staring at the label, I could really see it— a crane standing quietly with its head tucked into its feathers, not flapping its wings, just… existing.
As if beside a hermit drinking alone in a deep mountain valley.
A Special Bottle
“This sake is special,” he continued. “All the rice used is organic. It’s made with natural yeast, using the traditional kimoto method. Fermented and aged in wooden barrels.”
“We only have the pasteurized version left, but this series also comes as namazake—unpasteurized.”
He traced the words on the back label with his finger as he explained.
Sake-shō-san had bought namazake for the office once… but I still don’t really know what ‘raw’ sake means.
Spirit-realm crane, what are you trying to tell me? Stop curling up and show me your face!
Talking About Sake
“It has a bit of acidity—fruity and easy to drink. You can still taste the rice. I prefer it chilled. What kind of sake do you like?” he asked.
I must have looked like a kappa again as I stared at the label.
“I… I actually don’t like sake,” I admitted.
The gentle shopkeeper averted his eyes slightly.
“When I was a student, I tried hot sake at an izakaya. It was strong and scary— I didn’t think it tasted good.”
Outside, the boys were still playing soccer. The park lights flickered on as the sun slipped lower.
“Sake is something you drink for pleasure. If you don’t enjoy it, it’s better not to drink—for your body’s sake. But breweries
are working so hard nowadays. Sake and shochu have changed a lot in recent years.”
Still, sake felt frightening— like it would make me drunk in a bad way.
Looking at the crane label, he continued:
“I believe Japanese sake holds the identity of the Japanese people— coexistence with nature, gratitude for the harvest, and the spirit of harmony.”
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