Kumejima's Kumesen

Hot water in the glass first, spirit poured on top so it mixes itself. Around 40C in the glass is the sweet spot. This is not the only way, it is one way.

Oita's citrus, softer than sudachi. Bartenders in Oita mix it with the local barley shochu and soda.

Muddled with the seeds. Green, sour and refreshing, and cheap year round.

The shortcut to a sour when there is no fresh lemon. Less sweet is better.

Cold, and fizzy enough to matter. One part spirit to three or four parts soda for shochu; one to one for sake.

Soft water, cold, over ice or not. One to one is normal. Mix a day ahead (maewari) and the edges round off.

A small green citrus from Tokushima, sharper and more herbal than lime. Sold frozen or as juice in Japanese markets.

A dry tonic (Fever-Tree, Q). One part spirit, three parts tonic, a citrus wedge.

The Japanese citrus that tastes like grapefruit, mandarin and lemon at once, with a floral peel. A little zest or juice goes a long way.

Cold-brewed sencha, unsweetened. The green tea highball is one of the most common ways shochu is actually drunk in Japan.

Cold-brewed. Floral without sugar. The jasmine highball is a real menu item in Japan.

Cold, unsweetened barley tea. Every Japanese fridge has a pitcher in summer. Mix one to three over ice.

A rice-grain amount, dissolved. For the savory, cucumber glass, not the fruit one.

Ripe banana, muddled or as a syrup. The banana note in ginjo sake is real chemistry, not a metaphor.

Orange with a raspberry edge. Winter fruit; worth waiting for.

Coconut water for lengthening, coconut milk or cream for weight.

The gentle ginger. For bottles that a ginger beer would bully.

A spicy one, not a sweet one. The mule format works for every dark shochu and most sake.

Bitter, bright and forgiving. Ruby or white both work; white is drier. The grapefruit sour is a real bar order in Japan, not a novelty.

A plain or ginger kombucha. It brings acid, bubbles and funk, all things sake is short of.

Eaten whole, peel and all. Muddle a few in a glass; the peel gives bitterness, the flesh gives tartness.

Fresh juice, never bottled. The building block of the lemon sour, and the fastest way to give sake the acidity it does not have on its own.

Sharper and greener than lemon. The citrus for anything built on brown sugar or tropical fruit.

Fresh in early summer, canned in syrup the rest of the year (drain it). The signature aroma of a whole school of imo shochu.

Sweet, low-acid Japanese mandarin. Juice it or drop segments in a glass. It needs a squeeze of something sharper alongside.

Fresh orange juice for a sparkling sake mimosa; the peel for stirred drinks with aged bottles.

The most useful tropical fruit for mixing: intensely aromatic and properly sour. Pulp with seeds, or a good puree.

Fresh juice, or grilled wedges for a smokier drink. The awamori fruit.

Dry cava or crémant. Topping sake with it adds the acid and the bubbles sake lacks in one pour.

The neutral sweetener. Use when you want to balance acid without adding a flavor.

Muddled gently with citrus. Thai basil brings anise, Italian basil brings pepper.

A few grinds over the top. Aroma more than heat.

Cold-brewed Earl Grey brings bergamot; plain black tea brings tannin. For the aged and brown-sugar bottles.

Muddled, or as a syrup. Mild; bring acid from elsewhere.

A few crushed pods, or a syrup. Floral, citrusy and warm at once; it bridges fruit and spice.

Juiced, or a stalk as the stirrer. Savory, salty and cold.

Cold-brewed chamomile as a lengthener, or steeped in the spirit.

A stick in hot water with the spirit, or a light syrup. Winter.

Cold brew, unsweetened. For barley, brown-sugar, cask-aged and awamori bottles; it will bury a daiginjo.

Ribbons or muddled slices. Cucumber is what turns a glass of sake into something you would drink on a porch.

Dolin dry or Noilly Prat. A quarter of the sake's volume, stirred.

Green tea with popped, toasted rice. Cold-brew it. Comfort in a glass.

Fresh juice, a syrup, or a good ginger beer. The spice that makes a low-proof drink feel like it has a backbone.

Cold-brewed or hot. Roasted green tea, low in bitterness, high in toast. The oyuwari of teas.

Young sansho leaves, clapped between the palms and floated. Hard to find outside Japanese markets in spring, worth the hunt.

Bruised stalks steeped in the spirit, or a syrup. Citrus without acid, which is useful when you want aroma but not sourness.

Torn leaves steeped briefly. Perfumed citrus without juice.

Whisked into a slurry first, never dumped in dry. Bitter, umami and creamy at once.

Slapped, not muddled to bits. Mint reads as cold, which makes any low-proof drink feel more refreshing.

A bar spoon, no more. Salt, and the savory note that comes with it.

Unsweetened, cold. One part shochu to three or four parts tea, over ice. It is the drink half of Japan orders with dinner.

Ripe pear, muddled or as nectar. Delicate, so it belongs with delicate bottles.

A spoon of the brine, and a slice as garnish. Sweet, sour and hot at once.

A pinch of ground sansho over the top, or a few peppercorns steeped. Numbing, citrusy, green.

Green shiso leaves, slapped or muddled gently. Red shiso as a syrup. Japan already makes shiso shochu, which tells you it works.

One star, steeped, for the dark bottles.

A rim of shichimi, or a slice of fresh chili. Heat on fruit, not on rice.

A split bean in a syrup, or a good extract, in small amounts.

Fresh juice, strained. Add a pinch of salt.

Suze or Salers. Bitter root, bright yellow. A little in a highball changes everything.

Ripe mango puree. Needs lime beside it or it goes flat.