Chilling last autumn's harvest—Tracing the time of sake on 'Namazake Day' (No. 56)

Well, today, June 25th, is apparently 'Namazake Day.' While it is a season where beer and highballs are delicious, there is something truly special about sipping chilled sake slowly in a cool room.

This time, while looking back on the sake that holds memories of 'Shinshu,' where I took my first steps as a working adult, I have woven some words about the 'time' contained within a single glass of sake.

Today is Thursday, June 25, 2026.
This day is 'Namazake Day.'

It is said to be an anniversary commemorating the day in 1984 (Showa 59) when Gekkeikan in Kyoto released namazake (unpasteurized sake) that could be distributed at room temperature.

Namazake is sake that has not undergone the 'hi-ire' (pasteurization) process that is typically performed during sake brewing.

A fresh, vibrant aroma close to that of freshly pressed sake.
A light mouthfeel that is pleasant when chilled.

The technology that made it possible to enjoy at home the charm that was once only available at the brewery is the background to this anniversary.

When I look at sake with namazake as the entry point, I always feel like I am drinking not just the taste of the sake itself, but the time that the sake has traveled.

Rice ripens in autumn, and brewing begins in winter.
During the pressing season, 'arabashiri' and 'shinshu' (new sake) appear. Freshly made sake sometimes has a faint carbonation and a youthful, wild quality. It seems as if the energy of the new rice season still remains intact within the sake.

From spring to early summer, 'natsu-zake' (summer sake) that is enjoyed chilled lines the shelves.
There is namazake, and there is also nama-chozo-shu, which is stored unpasteurized and pasteurized only once before shipping. Some sake emphasizes lightness, while others are aged at low temperatures to create a soft umami hidden deep within the freshness.

And in autumn, 'hiyaoroshi' and 'aki-agari,' which have settled after passing through the summer, appear. This is the time when the umami of the rice begins to slowly open up.

Of course, the brewing and shipping times differ for each brewery. It is not the case that everything follows this exact order.

However, when we follow seasonal sake throughout the year, I think we are unknowingly tasting the time it takes for rice to turn into sake and for the flavor to develop.

It was in Nagano Prefecture, where I was first assigned after graduating from university, that I was taught the fascination of sake.

A friend would say,
''Arabashiri' really is delicious, isn't it?'

From that one remark, I gradually learned about Shinshu sake such as Masumi, Kamiwatari, and Kuromatsu Senjo.

At first, I didn't really know the names of the regions or the locations of the breweries. Even so, when winter came, there was talk of new sake, and when it got hot, summer sake lined the shops.
Learning the names of the sake was also learning the seasons of Nagano.

Even within the same Shinshu region, there are three different ways to present summer sake.

Masumi in Suwa shows the vibrancy of freshly pressed sake with its 'Arabashiri' in winter, and releases 'Suzumisake' in summer. It is a light and refreshing Junmai Ginjo sake that makes the most of the subtle acidity derived from white koji. I think the name, which evokes the breeze blowing through the summer highlands, is very characteristic of Masumi.

Kamiwatari in Okaya has 'Natsua-tsurae Junmai.' This is a raw stored sake. While retaining a youthful aroma, it allows you to enjoy a clean, crisp finish with a sense of transparency.

Kuromatsu Senjo in the Ina Valley offers 'Hiyashizake Nama Kingfisher.' This is a raw, unpasteurized sake. It features an aroma reminiscent of fresh apples, followed by a sharp acidity after a moderate sweetness. It is a drink that feels like early summer, evoking the image of a kingfisher flying over a clear stream.

Should it be served as raw, unpasteurized sake?
Should it be intentionally pasteurized once as raw stored sake?
Or should it be crafted as a light sake intended for summer?

Even for the same 'glass to be chilled and enjoyed in summer,' each brewery has a different answer.
Encountering those differences is also part of the fun of sake.

On the other hand, thanks to technological advancements, we can now buy fresh, raw sake all year round.
That is something to be truly grateful for.

However, while we are grateful that we can 'drink it anytime,' our hearts are still moved when we see the words 'only now.'

Winter's Arabashiri.
Summer's raw sake.
Autumn's Hiyaoroshi.

Perhaps we are not just tasting the sake itself, but also consuming the season that we can only encounter at that specific time.

The glass of summer sake I drink tonight, if traced back to its origins, is rice grown by farmers last autumn.
It took time to transform into sake, was refined at the brewery, and is now before us.
When you think about it that way, a glass of liquid starts to look a little more precious.

Today is Namazake Day (Raw Sake Day).

I would like to prepare some chilled summer sake and cold tofu, and quietly toast to a drink that the Japanese seasons have carefully crafted.