The History Behind the Names on the Shelves: 'Seishu' and Hon-Mirin

When I see mirin, mirin-style seasoning, cooking sake, and seishu (refined sake) lined up on a supermarket shelf, I sometimes feel a bit puzzled by how similar items are placed there with slightly different names. Even though they are all things found in the kitchen, it feels a bit strange, as if the names themselves are taking the lead.

At times like these, I first want to look at the names. Before the taste, the names usually contain the circumstances of their era.

Take hon-mirin, for example. While it is often perceived as a sweet seasoning today, it was originally cherished as a sweet sake. In the Edo period, it was valued as a sweetener to replace sugar, and it was also a proper alcoholic beverage with about 14% alcohol content. Doesn't that change how you see mirin a little?

Rather than just something to add sweetness, it was an existence that was both sake and sweet. That is why I think the name 'hon-mirin' retains a history that cannot be fully contained on a seasoning shelf.

Another quietly interesting thing is the boundary between 'seishu' and 'nihonshu.' Although we often use these two terms as if they were the same, they are actually no longer synonymous. Seishu is a term under the Liquor Tax Act, referring to sake made by fermenting and filtering rice, rice koji, and water. On the other hand, the label 'nihonshu' has been limited to products made with domestic rice and produced within Japan since the GI designation on December 25, 2015.

It might sound a bit complicated, but in short, seishu is a legal term, while nihonshu is a term that carries the weight of regional conditions. When you think about how promises regarding ingredients and place of origin are folded into those few characters on the label, the way you see the shelf becomes a little deeper.

Such knowledge might not be for defining things strictly, but rather for creating a little depth in the scenery of daily shopping. Instead of just seeing 'mirin,' you remember that it used to be sake. Instead of just seeing 'seishu,' you think of the conditions behind the word 'nihonshu' next to it. Just by reading the names carefully once, the shelves become quite eloquent.

Next time you are lost at the store, you don't have to try hard to read the ingredient list; just look at the name on the label first. Is it hon-mirin, seishu, or nihonshu? Even just from the difference in those names, the story behind the product will emerge just a little bit.

I talk about this in a bit more detail in the video, so if you are interested, please take a look at the main feature.

—They say even the names on the shelves have small histories sleeping within them.

── In charge: Shiori