Is sake a wine, or a spirit like rakija? Neither, quite. Sake is brewed, not distilled, so it's not a spirit: nobody boils off the alcohol, which is why it stops at around 15% instead of rakija's 40%. And it isn't really wine, because it's made from rice, not fruit, and the method is closer to beer. In Japanese, by the way, the word "sake" means any alcoholic drink, so what foreigners call sake is properly nihonshu, "Japanese alcohol". The details are below, in plain terms.
Wine, Beer or Spirit?
It's not a spirit. Rakija is distilled: you ferment fruit, then boil off the alcohol and collect it, which is how you get a drink that's normally around 40% ABV. Sake is never distilled. It's brewed, and it ends up at a strength closer to a strong wine, usually around 14 to 16% once a little water is added. Japan's Liquor Tax Act only counts a drink as sake (seishu) if it's under 22% alcohol.
It's not really a wine either, even though "rice wine" is the nickname. Wine gets its alcohol from sugar that's already in the grape. Rice has no sugar to speak of, only starch, so something has to turn the starch into sugar before yeast can eat it. That makes sake much closer to beer in method. The twist is that beer does those two steps one after the other, while sake does both in the same tank at the same time. The process even has a name, multiple parallel fermentation, and it's the reason sake can reach a strength beer never gets near.
So the honest answer: a brewed drink, made like beer, strong like wine, served like neither. The Japanese drink that actually is distilled is shochu, typically around 25% and made from rice, barley, sweet potatoes and other things. The Chinese rice drink huangjiu is also brewed rather than distilled, but it's a different drink with its own starter and its own flavors. For how distilling and brewing split the drinks world in two, see our post on brandy, whiskey, cognac, rakija and tequila.
How Sake Is Made
Four ingredients: rice, water, yeast, and koji. The first three you'd expect. Koji is the secret, a mold called Aspergillus oryzae that's grown on steamed rice. It produces the enzymes that chop starch into sugar, which is the job a malting barn does for beer. The same mold (or a close cousin, since soy sauce makers sometimes use a related species) is behind soy sauce and miso, which is why Japan's food sits on a fungus most Westerners have never heard of.
The rice isn't the rice in your kitchen. Brewers use special varieties with bigger grains, and they polish them hard. The outer layers of a grain hold fats and proteins that make rough flavors, so the mill grinds them off and leaves the starchy heart. A polishing ratio of 70% means 30% of the grain is gone. The most extreme bottles polish away more than 99%, and one of them is priced at 1,375,000 yen for 720 ml, according to the same Wikipedia article on sake. Most of what's drunk is far less fussy: about 57% of production in 2020 was plain table sake.
The brew builds in three steps over four days. First, a small yeast starter called shubo is made, then steamed rice, koji and water are added to it in three batches on days one, three and four. The thick mash, the moromi, then ferments for roughly another ten days, longer and colder for the fancy grades. Then it's pressed, and the liquid is usually pasteurized and diluted. Start to finish takes two to three months. Water matters too: iron in the water gives off-flavors and a yellow tint, which is one reason certain places became famous brewing regions.
Reading a Sake Label
The label looks like a wall of kanji, but only a few words matter, and they follow rules set by the tax authorities. Two ideas explain most of it: how much of the grain is polished away, and whether a little brewer's alcohol was added before pressing. (Sake without that addition is junmai, "pure rice".)
- Honjozo: rice polished to 70% or less, with a small amount of distilled alcohol added. Clean and easy.
- Ginjo: 60% or less, brewed slowly and cold, usually fruity and aromatic. Junmai ginjo is the same without added alcohol.
- Daiginjo: 50% or less. The showpiece grade. Junmai daiginjo is the all-rice version.
- Junmai: pure rice, with no legal polishing ratio, so it can be rich and full-bodied.
The added alcohol has a bad reputation it doesn't deserve for good bottles. The allowed amount is capped at 10% of the polished rice's weight and it's used to lift aroma and give a lighter taste, so a honjozo or daiginjo isn't a lesser product by default. And "more polished" isn't the same as "better": heavily polished sake is light and perfumed, less polished can taste of rice and sweetness, and that's a matter of taste.
A few more words show up on the front. Nigori is cloudy sake, strained through a loose mesh and left with rice sediment, usually sweeter. Namazake is unpasteurized and has to stay cold. Genshu is undiluted, so it's stronger. Koshu is aged, and goes amber. The nihonshu-do number tells you sweet or dry: roughly minus 3 is sweet and plus 10 is dry. If that's all too much, point at the bottle and ask whether it's "karakuchi" (dry) or "amakuchi" (sweet).
Hot or Cold? Cups, Pouring and Manners
Sake is the rare drink that can go hot, cold or in between, and the old rule that hot is for cheap bottles is only half true. In Japan it's served chilled (reishu, roughly 8 to 15 degrees Celsius, like a white wine), at room temperature, or warmed (atsukan, roughly 40 to 50 degrees). Hot sake is mainly a winter drink and lower grades are often served hot because that's how they taste best, not to hide flaws. Delicate, fruity ginjo and daiginjo are usually drunk cold or cool, because heat strips their aroma.
The classic setup is a ceramic flask, a tokkuri, and tiny cups called ochoko. The small cups are practical, not just cute: warm sake stays warm. You'll also meet the masu, a wooden box that was once a rice measure and holds exactly one go, about 180 milliliters. Some places let the sake overflow into the box or saucer as a show of generosity. In a cheap bar you may get a plain tumbler (koppu-zake). Sake is traditionally ordered by the go, so you can start small.
The etiquette is easy. Don't pour for yourself. Fill other people's cups, and they'll fill yours; the custom is called shaku, and it's still observed at formal dinners and for the first round of any night out. Say kanpai when everyone has a full cup, and if you'd rather not drink more, just leave yours topped up.
A Short History of Sake
Rice fermenting arrived in Japan from China, and sources place real sake, made with koji, at about the Nara period (710 to 794). For centuries the state kept tight control, until Buddhist temples and Shinto shrines started brewing in the 10th century and became the main producers for around 500 years. A temple called Shoryaku-ji in Nara is credited with techniques that still underlie modern brewing, including pasteurization, centuries before Louis Pasteur.
The Edo period moved the center of gravity. Edo, today's Tokyo, grew fast in the early 1600s, and brewers from inland towns such as Fushimi moved to the coast near Kobe, where the water was good and ships could carry barrels to Edo. By the Genroku era (1688 to 1704), roughly 80% of the sake drunk in Edo came from that Nada-Gogo area, which is still Japan's largest sake region, producing just over a quarter of the country's sake. The brewing season moved to winter, because cold keeps bacteria down, and a custom began that you can still see: a ball of cedar leaves, the sugidama, hung over the door when the new sake is ready. It starts green and turns brown over the months.
The 20th century was rougher. Wartime rice shortages produced a thin, stretched sake, and in the 1960s beer overtook it at home. The number of breweries dropped from 3,229 in 1975 to 1,845 in 2007. Then exports took off: the value of sake sold abroad in 2022 was more than six times what it was in 2009. In December 2024, UNESCO recognized traditional sake making with koji mold as intangible cultural heritage. Note the wording: it's the craft that's listed, not the drink.
Where to Taste Sake in Japan
The easiest place to start is Fushimi, in the south of Kyoto. Its name comes from words for "hidden water", a nod to the springs underneath, and it's lined with sake breweries along a willow-shaded canal. Gekkeikan, founded here in 1637, runs the Gekkeikan Okura Sake Museum, and several other breweries have shops and tastings. It's about 15 minutes by train from central Kyoto, which makes it a half-day add-on to our 5 days in Kyoto plan. Opening hours and prices change, so check the brewery's own site before you go.
From Osaka, the other big option is the Nada district around Kobe and Nishinomiya, the old Edo-era supplier and still the biggest producer. It pairs naturally with the Kobe day in our 5 days in Osaka guide. Further west, Saijo in Higashihiroshima has a street of ten well-known brewery buildings by the station, with a sake festival every October. And if you're staying in Tokyo, the easy version is a sake bar in Ginza or Shinjuku, a good idea from our 5 days in Tokyo guide.
At an izakaya, the practical trick is to ask for a recommendation by taste and let the staff choose: tell them dry or sweet, cold or warm, and order a small go to begin. Small pours let you try several, which is the cheapest way to learn what you like. And if you spot a green ball of cedar, a sugidama, hanging over a door, that's a sign new sake has just been brewed.
Pairing and Buying Sake at Home
Sake goes with more food than people expect, because it's gentle: no tannins, little acid, and plenty of savory depth. A clean, dry honjozo or junmai suits fried food and grilled fish. A fruity ginjo suits sashimi and salads. A rich, full junmai holds up to stews and grilled meat. That's a rule of thumb, not a law, so experiment, and drink what you like.
Storage is where most people go wrong. Light and heat spoil sake, so keep it in the fridge, and treat an opened bottle more like wine than whiskey: the sake makers' association advises finishing ginjo and daiginjo within a week of opening, and a plain junmai is usually quoted at about ten days. Unpasteurized namazake is even more fragile. If a clear sake has turned yellow or brown, its flavor has probably slipped, with the exception of aged koshu, which is amber from the start.
A final tip for shopping: read the bottle for the grade, the polishing ratio and, if you can find it, the bottling date. A junmai ginjo from a mid-sized brewery is the sweet spot for a first bottle, and the Japan Sake and Shochu Makers Association has an English guide to the basics.
Keep Exploring
If the brewed-versus-distilled split fascinated you, our post on whiskey vs whisky covers Japan's other famous drink, and the Japan page collects every guide we have for the country. Then see how well you know the map in Pinpoint, and kanpai.
