As a sake brewery cannot function in isolation; it needs to work with many suppliers, such as bottling machine manufacturers and tank makers. For a brewery like Dassai, which operates with unconventional methods, having partners or representatives who can work with my outlandish ideas with ingenuity is a huge asset.
One such person, who has appeared in this Brewmaster's Diary before, is President Ogawa of Nishiki Reito. Without him, Dassai’s year-round brewing of Junmai Daiginjo would have been impossible. There were many instances when even top-tier electrical contractors in the Chugoku region couldn’t get things right, but Ogawa-san would come in and make modifications to save the day. Among his many contributions, the most notable was the koji room, which allowed us to produce aggressive Daiginjo koji even in the middle of summer. When you ask industry-leading contractors for such innovations, they’ll flatly reject the idea as impossible. Even large companies that are seen as technologically capable often assign corporate-type representatives, who get stuck in data collection and research without ever moving forward. In other words, they’re useless! It’s thanks to technical experts from small workshops, like Ogawa-san, who have a wealth of on-site experience, that we’ve come this far.
Another major contributor to Dassai's growth is Mr. T from a certain rice milling machine manufacturer, who, like Ogawa-san, has been a great benefactor. He is the nephew of the company's founder, a prominent figure, and he eventually took over the business.
His appearance? He’s dark-skinned, with bulging eyes—the kind of person you’d want to avoid on the street. He’s been into car racing since he was young and used to race at the Sanbe Circuit in a tuned-up Civic. But honestly, he seems more like the kind of person who’d say, “I have a black belt in judo,” and it would make sense. (Although, he’s a safe driver on public roads.)
Our relationship began about 20 years ago when Dassai started milling its own rice, and over that time, we’ve had an incredibly close partnership. He provided technical and purchasing advice that supported Dassai's rice challenges. The scale of our rice milling plant along Route 2, which anyone passing by can see, is a testament to his support. We now have 52 rice milling machines capable of polishing 10,000 tons of Yamada Nishiki down to 3,000 tons of white rice (with Dassai’s average polishing ratio being 30%), making it likely the largest sake rice milling facility in Japan. This is the result of his support from when we started with just one small 1,200 kg milling machine 20 years ago.
He didn’t just help with machines, though; he greatly assisted our relationships with farmers as well. There was a time when we struggled to purchase the necessary amount of Yamada Nishiki due to various obstacles, and he worked hand-in-hand with me to foster rice farmers across the country. Without him, our annual purchase of 175,000 bales (10,500 tons) of Yamada Nishiki would have been impossible.
From a technical standpoint, he provided invaluable insights that went beyond the typical supplier-brewer relationship. At one point, we only evaluated the finished white rice that arrived at the brewery, but his guidance led us to examine the quality of brown rice before milling. This wasn’t just about relying on labels like “special grade from such-and-such area in Hyogo.”
For instance, even if the grains looked plump and uniform, if there were invisible cracks in the brown rice, they would become broken rice during milling and turn into bran. Since the polishing ratio is measured by weight, these issues had previously gone unnoticed.
Moreover, he challenged the long-standing belief that “after milling, rice loses moisture due to frictional heat, so it needs time to regain moisture, or it will break during washing.” He pointed out that the opposite might be happening—the cracks appeared when the lost moisture was regained.
Such “technical myths” had long persisted due to a structural issue unique to the sake brewing industry: the siloed nature of the work. Purchasing staff focused only on the production region, grade, and public reputation of the rice. Milling staff were concerned only with the polishing ratio and the appearance of the finished white rice. Brewmasters focused solely on making sake. And when the sake was handed over to the company, any inconsistencies were often explained away with romantic excuses like, “Just like wine, the quality depends on the weather that year.” Such excuses were celebrated by gourmet media, leaving no room for critique of these traditional practices.
In traveling around the country with him to meet farmers producing Yamada Nishiki, what struck me was the low motivation of the farmers. This overlaps with the recent rice shortage issue, but it was truly concerning to see the lack of dreams or hopes for the future of rice farming, caused by rigid agricultural policies.
To address this, we launched the “Yamada Nishiki Contest” as Dassai’s solution. He gave us significant advice on selecting the judges and criteria for the contest. This contest even led us to take a major step in transforming the direction of Dassai’s products.
The contest, where first place could win 30 million yen, prompted a leap in Dassai’s thinking. We realized that if it wasn’t going to be cost-effective anyway, why not create a Dassai that breaks free from the notion of Japanese sake being a “third-rate beverage” globally because it lacks high-priced products like wine? This led to Dassai’s auction at Sotheby’s in Hong Kong, where a bottle of Dassai made with the winning rice sold for 840,000 yen per 720 ml. Two years later, in New York, it fetched 1.15 million yen, and now it’s sold for 4 million yen (for a 2,300 ml bottle) annually in places like Las Vegas and London under the label Dassai Beyond the Beyond Magnum.
This contest also changed the perception of Yamada Nishiki itself. When we polished the second-year winning rice, the large, beautiful core (shinpaku) became a problem. We couldn’t polish it below 35% without damaging it, and the resulting sake wasn’t up to Dassai’s standards. It couldn’t be auctioned.
Through this experience, we realized that to make the sake we wanted, the rice core didn’t need to be large, contrary to the industry’s common belief. This Copernican shift in thinking was largely due to the influence of this rice milling machine manufacturer.
Though he’s younger than me, he’s decided to retire from the company. It’s a shame, but I understand. What I wanted to convey in this newsletter is that Dassai couldn’t have gotten this far if we had only worked with those “safe types” who never take risks. He didn’t just make necessary suggestions; he went above and beyond as a supplier. Thanks to him, Dassai has grown into the brand it is today, with Japan’s largest rice milling plant housing 52 machines. Without him, Dassai wouldn’t have reached this level of brand growth.
I tried to recruit him as a consultant after hearing of his retirement, but unfortunately, he turned me down. It seems we’ll see fewer and fewer of these “old-timer experts” as time goes on, and only the smooth operators will remain.
To respect his quiet retirement, I have omitted his name.