There is a rice shochu with a fresh, crisp aroma, reminiscent of wildflowers drenched in morning dew. When you take a sip, a gentle sweetness spreads across your palate, then vanishes as quickly as mist. Its creator, Kazunobu Torikai, spent about 10 years developing a flavor that sets this shochu apart from all others. The name of this shochu is “Ginka Torikai.”

At age 24, he returned to his hometown to take over a 400-year-old sake brewery

The Hitoyoshi-Kuma region, located at the southern tip of Kumamoto Prefecture. Encircled by the Kyushu Seiryo Mountain Range, this crescent-shaped basin experiences sweltering summers and winters when the entire region is shrouded in thick fog. High-quality water springs from the beautiful yet rugged mountains, forming the Kuma River—one of Japan’s three major rapids—which flows down through the center of the basin, bringing fertile soil and abundant water resources to its watershed. The climate, characterized by the large temperature fluctuations typical of basins, combined with the fertile land, has made this area one of Kumamoto’s leading rice-producing regions, and “Kuma Shochu”—a shochu made from this rice—boasts a history of approximately 500 years.

In 1949, Kazunobu Torikai was born in Hitoyoshi City to the Torikai Shuzo distillery, a 400-year-old producer of Kuma Shochu. The Torikai family is said to have moved from Kyoto during the Heian period, and records from the Edo period show that they produced brewed sake, shochu, vinegar, miso, and soy sauce.

Mr. Torikai was the youngest of seven siblings. After graduating from a local high school, he moved to Tokyo to pursue a career as a painter. His second-eldest brother had taken over the brewery, so Mr. Torikai had never even considered getting involved in the family business. However, in 1973, at the age of 24, he received a call from his eldest brother informing him that their father had fallen ill. At that time, his second-eldest brother—who had taken over the family business—had also stepped down due to the brewery’s financial struggles. With each brother pursuing a different path, the question arose as to who would take the second-eldest brother’s place and safeguard the brewery; ultimately, the choice fell on Mr. Torikai. Thus, Mr. Torikai unexpectedly found himself taking over the family business.

Aiming to Develop a New Shochu Based on Its Ginjo Aroma

In my grandfather’s day, the family business had been resting on its laurels as the fifth-largest among the 37 Kuma shochu distilleries at the time. However, it was gradually pushed to the brink by the momentum of neighboring distilleries that were constantly striving to improve their taste, quality, and sales channels. By the time Mr. Torikai took over, it had fallen to the very bottom of the 34 remaining distilleries. His daily routine began—working nonstop from early morning until late at night just to keep the distillery afloat. He did everything from polishing the rice to making koji, brewing, bottling, and collecting empty bottles.

But in business, hard work doesn’t always translate to increased sales. Price competition within the small basin grew fiercer year by year, so Mr. Torikai took the bold step of selling directly to consumers in a bid to survive. Furthermore, the second shochu boom of the early 1980s intensified competition with major manufacturers. Although “Kiyotama,” the rice shochu his family had brewed for generations, had once won first place at a tasting competition, it lacked a distinctive character and was getting lost among the products of other breweries. Consequently, Mr. Torikai resolved to develop a new shochu.

His starting point was “ginjo-ka”—the components that produce the fruity and floral aromas generated during the fermentation of sake yeast. In the sake industry, this is known as ginjo-ka.

It was an era when distillers were asking, “Aroma is flavor—can we capture the aroma produced by yeast in a distilled spirit?” Since then, he pored over ancient documents and academic papers, visited master brewers and researchers known as “master craftsmen,” and repeated his research and experiments. Even when they thought an experiment had succeeded, upon closer inspection, the aroma would often differ from their ideal or prove impossible to reproduce. It was not until 1994 that they finally perfected the shochu they sought—nearly 10 years after they first resolved to develop it.

In a revitalized natural environment, we are on a quest to create a new shochu

He named the shochu—a masterpiece he was thoroughly pleased with—”Ginka Torikai,” after his own surname. The ginjo aroma stems from ginjo koji—made from rice polished to 58%—and yeast cultivated in-house. As a shochu with a distinctive and unforgettable flavor unlike any other, “Ginka Torikai” was immediately flooded with orders upon its release and won a Special Gold Award at the 1996 Monde Selection International Food Competition, alongside Johnnie Walker.

In response to this overwhelming reception, Torikai Shuzo decided to focus exclusively on the “Ginka Torikai” brand for sales. The company believed this approach would strengthen its branding power and dispel the negative perceptions associated with its older brands, which had been losing popularity. However, some 30 years after the creation of “Ginka Torikai,” Mr. Torikai continues to pursue the creation of new shochu. The turning point came with the completion of the “Kusatsu Distillery” and the “Yokitogi Koji Warehouse.”

Upon learning of plans to build an industrial waste treatment facility in the Kusatsu River basin—one of the few remaining clear streams in the Hitoyoshi Basin—Mr. Torikai purchased 150 hectares of forested land in 2000 to stop the project.

Over the course of five years, they worked to restore the natural environment, which had been ravaged by excessive deforestation and mudslides. As part of the company’s operations, they built stone retaining walls, removed fallen trees and boulders, and planted broadleaf trees to restore the clear stream. In 2005, the Kusatsu Distillery was completed. Subsequently, in 2012, the Onokuri Koji Warehouse was completed on a 15-hectare site created by leveling abandoned farmland and forested land.

Mr. Torikai explains the reason he undertook these initiatives by saying, “Everything—including caring for the environment—is part of sake brewing.” He believes that revitalizing the forests and rivers to produce pure water is an essential prerequisite for improving the quality of the shochu. Currently, at these two facilities, he continues to refine and produce “Ginka Torikai” while also experimenting with new shochu recipes. He is also considering whether “Seikyu”—once the distillery’s flagship product—can be reintroduced in a form suited to the present era.

The “Sake You Can’t Find Anywhere” I Even Dream About

The Kusatsu River, which Mr. Torikai showed me, was so pristine that it was hard to believe it had once been so degraded. The water used to clean the tanks at the distillery is transported off-site for treatment. The rice is washed at the koji warehouse before being transported to the distillery. The reason they repeat these tasks—which might seem like nothing but extra work—is their determination not to discharge any wastewater into the Kusatsu River, even if it has been purified. I truly felt that the clear stream before my eyes is being protected by this series of deliberate choices.

Mr. Torikai has never relied solely on intuition when deciding how to brew sake or interact with nature; instead, he has analyzed every aspect, thought things through from multiple angles, and moved forward without compromising his convictions.

“A sake that possesses all the finest qualities of sake, yet is unlike any other. Sometimes I wake up from a dream in which I’ve created just such a sake.”

Perhaps what Mr. Torikai is pursuing is not merely a “new sake.” It is likely a single drop that transcends time and space, imbued with the climate and nature of Hitoyoshi-Kuma, as well as the daily lives and very concepts of its people. “I don’t think completion is that far off,” he said. Mr. Torikai’s cheerful voice melted into the crisp mountain air.

The post Refining aromas, protecting the mountains, and dreaming of sake. Kazunobu Torikai of “Torikai Shuzo” / Hitoyoshi City, Kumamoto Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

Iseki Agricultural Machinery Co., Ltd. is one of Japan’s leading agricultural machinery manufacturers. Its founder, Kunisaburō Iseki, was born in Mima Village, Kita-Uwa District (now Uwajima City), a rural area known for producing delicious rice (Mima rice).

I want to free farmers from grueling labor

Ehime Prefecture is the birthplace of the company’s founder, Kunisaburō Iseki. The “ISEKI Dream Gallery” in Matsuyama City showcases the history and technology of Iseki Agricultural Machinery Co., Ltd. From a young age, Kunisaburō Iseki was involved in the family farming business. Farm work at that time was backbreaking labor, and he is said to have harbored a strong desire to “free farmers from grueling labor.” Amid an era of transition from manual labor to mechanization, driven by his passion for creating better products, he founded “Iseki Agricultural Tools Trading Company” in Matsuyama City in 1926. The first piece of agricultural machinery he developed was a “fully automatic rice hulling machine.” The company continued to contribute to the mechanization and modernization of agriculture, evolving into a business that supported postwar food production increases and Japan’s period of rapid economic growth.

Manufacturing from Matsuyama That’s Shaping the Future of Agriculture

In 1936, the company established a factory in Matsuyama City. Since then, it has developed and produced numerous agricultural machines that contributed to the mechanization and modernization of agriculture, supporting postwar food production increases and the period of rapid economic growth. In 1978, the Matsuyama Factory began production of large tractors. This factory, with its long history, continues to serve as the manufacturing division of the ISEKI Group’s agricultural machinery business under the name “ISEKI M&D Co., Ltd.” It serves as the core manufacturing hub within the ISEKI Group, providing manufacturing support for initiatives such as “Smart Agriculture” and “Environmentally Sustainable Agriculture.”

“As we transition from manual labor to mechanization, we want to build machinery that is truly useful. We continue to uphold our founder’s philosophy of ‘Let’s make quality products,’” says Masahiro Sakai, President and CEO of ISEKI M&D Co., Ltd.

The agricultural machinery manufactured by ISEKI M&D ranges widely from models for small-scale farms to high-output 130-horsepower tractors. The company handles a diverse lineup of products, including lawn mowers used overseas and ride-on maintenance machines that perform tasks such as weed control, pesticide and fertilizer application, and soil moisture retention. Because the company has established an integrated in-house production system—from parts machining to painting and assembly—it can quickly respond to the demand for a wide variety of products in small quantities, leading to the creation of products that are easy for farmers to use and affordable.

Smart Agriculture and an Integrated System for Vegetable Production Mechanization

The reality facing the agricultural sector is harsh. Due to the aging workforce and a shortage of successors, the number of workers is steadily declining. Tasks such as harvesting, planting, and crop management must be carried out intensively over short periods in accordance with the seasons and weather, making it impossible for the limited workforce to keep up. What is needed in these fields is agricultural machinery technology that can reliably ensure crop yields with minimal labor.

ISEKI is focusing on “Smart Agriculture,” which balances agricultural efficiency with environmental conservation. By leveraging the latest technologies—such as IT, sensors, GPS, and robotics—to enable operations tailored to crop conditions and field characteristics, the company achieves high productivity even with a limited workforce.

ISEKI also develops and manufactures tractors and robotic tractors equipped with smart agriculture technology. For example, GPS-based positioning assists tractors in maintaining a straight course within the field. This eliminates the need for operators to make frequent, precise steering adjustments, thereby reducing fatigue. Furthermore, robotic tractors contribute to improved operational efficiency by working in coordination with humans under human supervision.

In addition, the company developed “variable rate fertilization technology” in 2015, which adjusts fertilizer application rates based on field conditions. By minimizing fertilizer waste while reducing variations in crop growth and leading to stable quality and yields, the company aims to achieve both reduced environmental impact and improved productivity.

Around 1990, as mechanization advanced, the number of labor hours required for rice cultivation fell to one-fourth of what it had been in 1960, while the need for labor-saving measures in vegetable farming also grew. Compared to rice farming—where an integrated mechanization system involving rice transplanters, combine harvesters, and dryers was well established—vegetable farming at that time lagged behind in mechanization, creating a strong demand for reduced physical labor and labor savings. ISEKI is a company that has focused on developing an “integrated vegetable farming mechanization system,” beginning with the commercialization of the fully automatic vegetable transplanter “Nauel PV101.”

In fact, vegetable farming is characterized by significant regional variations in cultivation methods. Take green onions, for example: even when referred to simply as “long green onions,” the varieties and cultivation methods differ from region to region. There are also regional variations in ridge width and planting spacing, and ISEKI has developed machinery that allows farmers to adjust these settings to suit their specific region.

　Furthermore, the company has established an “Integrated Vegetable Production Mechanization System” by offering a full range of machinery and supplies compatible with a wide variety of crops, including daikon radishes, onions, cabbage, broccoli, taro, carrots, lettuce, edamame, green onions, and sweet potatoes. This system enables the consistent mechanization of the entire vegetable production process—from seedling cultivation to planting, management, harvesting, and sorting. This enables flexible adaptation to the production of multiple varieties in small quantities and to differences in growing conditions across regions, allowing for efficient farming operations with consistent quality even with a small workforce.

100 Years Since Our Founding: Connecting the Future of Agriculture Through Technology and People

Through continuous technological development aimed at solving real-world challenges on the farm, ISEKI holds approximately 2,200 patents, including technologies related to the development of agricultural machinery such as tractors, rice transplanters, and combine harvesters. The technical expertise the company has cultivated supports the evolution of smart agriculture and is transforming on-farm work into a more reliable and less burdensome process.

The new models manufactured by ISEKI M&D are a prime example of this. The company is also actively engaged in smart agriculture that leverages digital technologies such as GPS. These technologies support the agricultural know-how cultivated through many years of experience. For example, by having machines assist with precise tasks that skilled operators once performed intuitively, even less experienced operators can more easily perform work to a consistent standard. By using digital technology to pass down agricultural techniques—which have traditionally been handed down from person to person—to the next generation, the company is helping to address the shortage of workers and support the realization of sustainable agriculture.

Due to factors such as a declining workforce in the agricultural sector and the impacts of climate change, the number of workers on farms is decreasing. Improving efficiency and environmental considerations are essential. With the government’s “Green Food System Strategy” providing a tailwind, there is a growing demand for a shift toward sustainable agriculture, including labor-saving measures and organic farming.

ISEKI will celebrate its 100th anniversary in 2026 and, as a company proud of its long history of technology and experience, is committed to addressing these challenges. The company develops large-scale, cutting-edge, field-crop, and eco-friendly agricultural machinery that balances labor-saving efficiency with environmental conservation. By expanding its range of eco-friendly technologies—including electrification—ISEKI supports highly productive and sustainable agriculture through high-quality agricultural machinery.

Furthermore, the company is dedicated to nurturing the next generation of engineers. We provide hands-on opportunities in design, manufacturing, and cutting-edge technology to hone problem-solving and decision-making skills, while also emphasizing the importance of learning from the technical expertise and wisdom cultivated over many years. The capabilities of the people and technology nurtured in this way directly contribute to agricultural efficiency and environmental consideration, supporting a more sustainable and prosperous agricultural sector. This approach to manufacturing—woven together by technology and people—will continue to bring new possibilities to agriculture.

The post Creating the Machinery of Our Dreams: A 100-Year-Old Company’s Vision for Agriculture and the Future. “Iseki Agricultural Machinery Co., Ltd. / ISEKI M&D Co., Ltd.” / Matsuyama City, Ehime Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

Ryosuke and Yuki Sasaki, whose lives were transformed in Okinawa, create nothing but highly stylish designs that incorporate traditional techniques. Behind their works—which bring an involuntary smile to anyone who holds them—lies the couple’s characteristic, down-to-earth way of life.

The Creative Spirit and Way of Life Inspired by Life on Hateruma Island

Hirosaki City in Aomori Prefecture, where the townscape and culture still bear traces of its history as a castle town, is a place where traditional crafts such as Tsugaru lacquerware and Kogin embroidery remain deeply rooted to this day. “Snow hand made,” a studio based in Hirosaki, is run by the husband-and-wife team of Ryosuke and Yuki, who specialize in dyeing and weaving, dividing their work between them.

Ryosuke dyes fabrics and threads using indigo and safflower as dyes, while Yuki creates woven textiles and crocheted accessories. Their work has gained popularity for its intricate, delicate designs and vibrant colors—which are so refined that one would hardly believe they are hand-woven—and many people reportedly purchase their pieces every time a new collection is released.

The dyes are made from ingredients such as bamboo and cherry blossom branches sourced from their own garden and nearby mountains. They pair well with nature-inspired accessories and offer a charm distinct from trendy designs. The couple says their creative concept is to make items that will be cherished for a long time.

“She creates based on her intuition. That intuition is amazing,” “Even if you understand the principles of dyeing, sometimes you can’t achieve the desired color. But he figures it out and manages to get close to that color,” the two say, praising each other. It is precisely because they recognize and trust each other’s skills that such high-quality works are born.

An Encounter in Okinawa That Felt as If I Had Been Led There

Ryosuke, who is from Kanagawa Prefecture, and Yuki, who is from Hirosaki City, met on Hateruma Island in Okinawa Prefecture—Japan’s southernmost inhabited island. Ryosuke had visited Hateruma Island during his student days and, captivated by the people and the island’s atmosphere, decided to move there. It was around that same time that he met Yuki, who had come to visit a friend.

“I wanted to learn dyeing and pottery techniques. “On my first visit, I wondered if there was any way to preserve Okinawa’s vibrant natural colors, so I tried dyeing thread with flowers I found by the roadside. I was deeply moved when it turned a pale purple. I thought, ‘So you really can preserve the colors of nature,’” says Ryosuke.

Yuki, who was also looking to acquire a craft, was introduced through an acquaintance to Akiko Ishigaki, a dyeing and weaving artist working on the neighboring island of Iriomote. Ms. Ishigaki studied under Fukumi Shimura, a Living National Treasure known for “tsumugi-ori”—silk textiles woven using tsumugi yarn—and has been working for over 40 years to revive the dyeing and weaving culture of Iriomote Island.

However, she felt it would be difficult to instruct two people with absolutely no prior knowledge, so she introduced us to someone on Hateruma Island who knew how to use a “genshibata” loom. A genshibata is a loom that can be considered the foundation of weaving; one end of the warp threads is attached to a “waist strap” around the weaver’s waist, and the tension of the warp threads is adjusted using the strength of the weaver’s hips.

It was these two—who would later co-found a workshop with her—who provided her with instruction. She learned the gen-shibata technique from them, continued weaving at home to ensure she didn’t forget what she’d learned, and even brought her finished pieces to Professor Ishigaki’s workshop. From there, she was given assignments, and the four of them lived and studied together at the professor’s workshop, clinging to the opportunity with all their might.

Among them, Yuki’s weaving skills stood out in particular, and she reportedly demonstrated exceptional talent.

“I’ve loved knitting and drawing since I was a child. I think that played a part, but coming to Okinawa was a major turning point. In Okinawa, everyone took an interest in the things I made and recognized my work—that probably helped build my confidence.” Yuki explains that her creative work stems from discovering her own way of life in Okinawa and gradually building upon it over time, leading her to where she is today.

Furthermore, from her teacher, Ishigaki, she learned something that could be called the very essence of craftsmanship—that “dyeing and weaving are not merely crafts”—a lesson that goes beyond simply honing her technical skills. She explains that her teacher personally dyes the thread and weaves the fabric to make hand towels, and places great importance on the idea that these practices are an integral part of daily life. While preserving these works as crafts is certainly a necessary endeavor, Yuki says this was a crucial period for her to learn that these creations are “born from everyday life.”

From launching their studio to striking out on their own: Creating works that reflect their unique style in Hirosaki

With Professor Ishigaki’s support, the four of them launched a dyeing and weaving studio in 2008. The space also served as a restaurant, but as their carefully selected ingredients and elaborate catered meals gained popularity, it became difficult to balance that work with their dyeing and weaving. After discussing it with their colleagues, Ryosuke and Yuki decided to branch out on their own from the studio so they could devote themselves more fully to their work as dyeing and weaving artists. That’s when they chose Hirosaki City.

“It was my wife’s hometown, so we were already familiar with the area, and the fact that it’s a region rich in traditional crafts was also a deciding factor. To be honest, there might not have been any other option besides Hirosaki,” the couple laughs.

They chose not to fly but instead drove north from Kagoshima to Hirosaki. Hoping to refine their sensibilities while visiting acquaintances along the way, they stopped at World Heritage sites and other places to experience the distinct characteristics of each region. As the landscape changed, so did the climate and local culture. One of Professor Ishigaki’s teachings was that craftsmanship involves incorporating elements that suit both the land and oneself.

Taking those words to heart, they headed to Hirosaki with the desire to create works that were true to themselves and unique to that region—and thus, Snow Handmade was born.

Techniques that spare no effort and bring out the best in the ingredients

“Many people think indigo dyeing is prone to fading and color bleeding, but that’s not actually the case. After exploring this further, I settled on the traditional method.”

Snow Handmade’s indigo dyeing uses techniques established during the Muromachi period: “Jigoku-zuke” and “Sho-ai-zome.” After drying indigo leaves, they are fermented over two to three months while being periodically moistened with water. Through repeated turning, the mixture is transformed into a compost-like substance, which is then sun-dried to produce “sukumo,” the raw material for indigo dyeing. The finished sukumo is thoroughly kneaded with lye made from apple tree ash. This wood ash comes from branches pruned or cut down in nearby apple orchards; they are burned in a wood-burning stove during the winter to produce ash, which is then stored. The lye is made by adding boiling water to the ash and stirring, then skimming off only the clear liquid on top. Since the remaining wood ash can also be used as glaze, he says he gives it to a potter he knows.

“This is the kind of cycle I wanted to create. There’s absolutely no waste,” Ryosuke says with a smile.

One of the most important steps in indigo dyeing is the process of preparing the dye bath, known as “aitate.” Indigo leaves and lye are placed in an indigo vat, and the mixture is allowed to ferment over about 10 days, gradually increasing in volume to create the dye bath. However, this process requires a large amount of water, and if the water and indigo do not mix well, the dye may not set properly. For this reason, when searching for a property in Hirosaki, the ability to use well water was the top priority. The current location has an abundant supply of spring water, which works well with the indigo, and it seems we’ve been blessed with good fortune regarding the land itself.

Once the dye bath is ready, the indigo dyeing process finally begins. The fabric, which has been soaked in lye, is gently lowered into the indigo vat, taking care to prevent air from entering. The dyed fabric is rinsed with water, sun-dried, and rinsed again. This constitutes one cycle, which is repeated until the desired color is achieved. Finally, the fabric is thoroughly sun-dried to remove any off-flavors from the lye, and the process is complete.

Since they grow their own indigo, the entire process—from sowing the seeds to harvesting and sun-drying—takes over a year. Currently, they blend in Tokushima’s “Awa-ai” indigo, which boasts one of the highest production volumes in Japan, but their dream is to dye exclusively with Hirosaki indigo in the future. Since they work as a team of just two, expanding their operations isn’t easy, but they’re currently experimenting and refining their methods in hopes of making this a reality someday.

The reason they go to such lengths is their desire to maximize the benefits of indigo. Traditional indigo dyeing is resistant to fading and color loss, and offers strong deodorizing and antibacterial effects. Although it takes time, they believe this is the best technique for bringing out the true qualities of indigo.

Nature is the inspiration for the design

The dyed yarn is shaped by Yuki’s hands. In addition to crocheting, she uses a loom called a “gen-shibata” to weave straps and cords. She has been using this loom since her time on Hateruma Island; it is a primitive-style loom in which one end of the yarn is tied to the weaver’s waist, and the tension of the yarn is adjusted using the strength of the weaver’s hips as she weaves.

Her inspiration comes from nature. She says she was deeply impressed by the islanders in Okinawa, who wore accessories made from local materials as talismans, and that this experience has greatly influenced her own work. She incorporates into her pieces a worldview inspired by the microcosm seen under a microscope and the universe—where naturally formed elements are arranged in orderly patterns or create a sense of beauty. That is precisely why Yuki’s designs possess a meticulous beauty that defies belief that they are handmade.

Both the dyeing and weaving are created entirely from materials found in her immediate surroundings. This can be said to be the very foundation of Snow Handmade’s creative process.

Staying true to ourselves while incorporating the best ideas

Although the two create their works using traditional techniques, they aren’t limited to just those of the past. They also incorporate dyeing methods that utilize modern technology, applying them to bring their artistic visions to life.

“It feels like we’re taking the best of both worlds,” says Ryosuke. “The best approach is to make the most of each method’s strengths and bring out the inherent qualities of the plants.” Whether it comes to techniques or materials, they aren’t bound by preconceived notions and incorporate whatever they believe will work best. Perhaps staying true to themselves is what matters most to the two of them.

“One of our goals for the future is to dye using only the indigo harvested here. We’re currently thinking about what kind of system to set up to create one-of-a-kind pieces using the soil, water, and air of this place,” says Ryosuke. “I’d also like to work on pieces that aren’t for sale. We once rented a large space to exhibit big works, and it was so much fun to create exactly what we wanted to express. It helped us reconnect with our original passion, so we’d like to hold exhibitions like that again,” says Yuki with a smile. Without feeling pressured by traditional techniques, the two approach their creative work as a natural part of their daily lives. The works of Snow Handmade reflect their very way of life.

The post “Snow hand made,” a textile artist who incorporates the natural “colors” and “shapes” of the land into her work / Hirosaki City, Aomori Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

A transparency reminiscent of glass. “Hakuji Yuzogan” (white porcelain inlay), one of ceramic artist Shin Egami’s series, is striking for its translucent appearance—despite being a ceramic piece. Born into a kiln that traces its roots to “Takada-yaki,” a traditional craft representative of Kumamoto, Egami is exploring new possibilities while preserving tradition and pursuing his own unique form of expression.

He took over the kiln his father had established and became a potter.

“Koda-yaki Ryugen Kiln” is located on the banks of a spring-fed pond in the Yatsushiro Plain. Mr. Egami is the second-generation head of “Koda-yaki Ryugen Kiln.” He has won awards at exhibitions such as the Kumamoto Prefectural Art Association Exhibition, the Western Japan Traditional Crafts Exhibition, and the Japan Traditional Crafts Exhibition.

Mr. Egami graduated from a local high school and went on to attend a university in Kumamoto City. His father, Gen, who opened “Kodayaki Ryugen Kiln” in 1987, never once asked him to take over the kiln, and because their home and workshop were located far apart, he rarely saw Gen at work making pottery. As a result, he says he never even considered becoming a potter. The turning point for Mr. Shin came during his job search.

“When I thought about what kind of work I wanted to do, memories of my grandfather, who was a Western-style painter, came flooding back,” says Mr. Egami. Recalling how he had been moved by the beauty of the oil paintings and sculptures he saw in the studio he visited as a child, he realized that, deep down, he had always harbored a longing and interest in creating things. It was then that he first recognized he was in the ideal environment to pursue ceramics.

After graduating from college, she studied the basics of ceramics at the Saga Prefectural Arita Ceramic College and returned to her hometown at the age of 26. There, she began devoting her days to creating pottery alongside her father at “Takada-yaki Ryugen Kiln.”

“Ryugen Kiln,” which carries on the legacy of the “Higo Imperial Kiln”

“Takada-yaki Ryugen Kiln” traces its roots to Takada-yaki, a traditional craft that represents Kumamoto. Takada-yaki has a long history; it is said that in 1632, during the early Edo period, Sonkai established a kiln in what is now Yatsushiro City. Sonkai was a Korean potter who was taken into the service of Hosokawa Tadaoki, lord of the Buzen Kokura Domain, in 1602. Although he initially built a kiln in Ueno (present-day Fukuchi Town, Tagawa District), which Tadaoki governed, he moved to Yatsushiro following the Hosokawa family’s transfer of their domain. Takada-yaki, also known as “Yatsushiro-yaki,” was protected as the official kiln of the Higo Domain but lost that patronage after the Meiji Restoration. The three surviving Takada-yaki kilns are the “Ueno Kiln” (the head family), the “Den-shichi Kiln,” and the “Ryugen Kiln.” Mr. Egami’s father, Motosan, trained at the “Den-shichi Kiln” before opening the “Ryugen Kiln.”

An attempt to reinterpret tradition and create something new

Mr. Egami’s father, Moto, sought to create Takada-yaki that broke free from conventional molds while preserving ancient traditional techniques. Mr. Egami, too, is exploring new possibilities for Takada-yaki and pursuing his own unique style, all while carrying on the tradition.

“I believe that by preserving and simultaneously reconstructing the three elements that define Takada-yaki—‘clay, glaze, and inlay’—I can present a vision of ‘Takada-yaki for today,’” says Ms. Egami. These three elements are the essential core of Takada-yaki and serve as the starting point for her creative process.

Among these, clay preparation is one of her greatest passions. While many contemporary potters use commercially available clay, Egami goes into the mountains himself to dig up raw clay. He transports the raw clay to his studio, mixes it with water, and sifts it through a fine-mesh sieve to remove impurities. This process is both time-consuming and labor-intensive, but by selecting the clay with his own eyes and refining it with his own hands, he produces clay with a finer texture than commercially available varieties. This clay is then transformed into works free of imperfections such as spots.

Egami’s philosophy is reflected in his body of work. His pieces can be broadly divided into three categories: “Celadon Inlay,” “Yakisime Inlay,” and “White Porcelain Glaze Inlay.” “Celadon Inlay,” which accounts for the majority of his award-winning works, is characterized by the striking contrast between the brown clay he produces himself and a uniquely formulated celadon glaze that brings out its beauty. “Unglazed Inlay” is created by applying inlay to the base material and firing it in a pit kiln without glaze, resulting in a texture that conveys warmth and strength. Finally, “White Porcelain Glazed Inlay”—mentioned at the beginning—involves pouring glaze into indentations made in white porcelain; the glass-like transparency and the shadows cast within the indentations create a beauty of subtle mystery.

Tradition is not something to be preserved, but something to be created.

In 2018, Mr. Egami was certified as a “Full Member of the Japan Crafts Association”—a status granted only to artists who have been selected for the Japan Traditional Crafts Exhibition four or more times. The Japan Crafts Association is an organization composed primarily of Holders of Important Intangible Cultural Properties, commonly known as “Living National Treasures,” and full membership is highly selective, with only about 1,300 members nationwide. The Japan Traditional Crafts Exhibition is considered the nation’s premier open-call craft exhibition, and being selected for it four or more times signifies not merely a fleeting recognition but a sustained and public acknowledgment of one’s skill. Yet Ms. Egami is not content to rest on her laurels; she continues to explore new forms of expression to this day.

“Within the framework of Takada-yaki, I want to pursue ‘ceramics unlike anything seen before.’ I believe tradition is not something to be preserved, but something to be created,” says Egami. These words have been forged amid the tension inherent in a craft deeply rooted in the local community. While unveiling new works at department stores in the Tokyo metropolitan area, he also holds solo exhibitions every year without fail in his hometown of Yatsushiro City. There, he faces the watchful “eyes” of the local community, which has watched over Takada-yaki for some 390 years. “In Yatsushiro, there are people who take pride in Takada-yaki as a local treasure. They are well-acquainted with my father’s work and have been observing Takada-yaki for even longer than I have.” Although her new artistic style sometimes draws harsh criticism, Ms. Egami does not dismiss it; instead, she accepts it as a learning experience for her next step.

In the world of traditional crafts, change is not always welcomed. That is precisely why her attitude—challenging herself to find new forms of expression while discerning what must be preserved—serves as a guiding principle for the artisans who will follow in her footsteps. As Ms. Egami speaks, gazing at both her father’s works and her own, her eyes show respect for the past while firmly looking toward the future. The challenge faced by this single kiln, rooted in the local community, overlaps with a universal question confronting the craft world as a whole: how to pass on a tradition spanning approximately 390 years to the next generation.

The post Pottery that carries on and reinterprets tradition. “Takada-yaki Ryugen Kiln,” Shin Egami / Hikawa Town, Yatsushiro District, Kumamoto Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

In recent years, “seagrass die-off”—a phenomenon in which seaweed can no longer grow in the ocean due to rising sea temperatures—has become a global marine environmental issue. It is said that Japan’s natural seaweed beds are disappearing at a rate equivalent to 1,200 Tokyo Domes worth per year. Alarmed by this situation—in which the foundation of the marine ecosystem is being undermined, affecting the fishing industry as a whole—Kochi Prefecture-based “Sea Vegetable LLC” (hereinafter “Sea Vegetable”) launched the world’s first land-based cultivation of aonori using underground seawater in 2016. By expanding seaweed farms across the country in collaboration with local partners and actively pursuing both land-based and offshore cultivation, the company aims to preserve the richness of the ocean and the culinary culture centered on seaweed.

Cultivating Aonori, Which Disappeared from the Shimanto River, on Land

Kochi Prefecture is known for its intense sunlight streaming down from the blue sky and its warm climate. The prefecture has a narrow, east-west shape, with the Pacific Ocean to the south and the Shikoku Mountains towering to the north. At Sea Vegetable’s land-based facility, “Suji Aonori”—known as the highest-grade variety of aonori—is being cultivated using the world’s first land-based cultivation technology.

My deep love for the ocean, which I’ve felt since my college days

Co-founder Jun Hachiya, a native of Okayama Prefecture, conceived a business plan for “integrated aquaculture of abalone and seaweed using deep-sea water” while still a student at Kochi University. With the cooperation of co-founder Yuichi Tomohiro, he conducted demonstration research aimed at commercializing the project. Deep-sea water is seawater drawn from depths of 320 to 374 meters off the coast of Muroto in Kochi Prefecture; it maintains a stable, low temperature of approximately 10 degrees Celsius year-round.

Mr. Hachiya says he originally enjoyed diving into the ocean and catching fish he could see up close. “Every year, whenever I dived in the same spot, the number of fish visibly decreased. I realized that wherever fish gathered in large numbers, there was always seaweed, and driven by a desire to bring fish back to the ocean, I threw myself into seaweed research.”

Rising sea temperatures due to global warming have altered fish habitats and impacted Kochi Prefecture’s seaweed industry. The brackish water zone near the mouth of the Shimanto River—known as “Japan’s Last Pristine River”—where freshwater and seawater mix, was once the nation’s premier natural fishing ground for “suji aonori” (striped green laver), but by 2020, the catch had dropped to nearly zero. It is believed that the decline in catch is directly proportional to the rise in water temperature in the estuary.


Mr. Hachiya took action to revive the “suji aonori,” which could no longer be harvested naturally. He explained that his determination grew stronger as he thought, “If seaweed can no longer grow in the ocean, let’s grow it on land,” and “I want to take on this challenge to ensure that the culinary culture of seaweed does not die out.”

In a large tank built near the Pacific Ocean, blue-veined nori drifts about

When you visit Sea Vegetable’s land-based facility along the coast overlooking the Pacific Ocean, you’ll be amazed by the rows of massive circular tanks. The largest one has a diameter of about 25 meters—roughly the length of an elementary school swimming pool.

Suji aonori grows at an astonishingly fast rate; under the right conditions, it can double in size in a single day, and it’s said to possess such vitality that its appearance changes between morning and evening. The tanks come in four sizes, and about once a week, the grown Suji Aonori is transferred to larger tanks.

“There’s an ideal size for harvesting that’s considered the most delicious, so we designed these four sizes of circular tanks by working backward to ensure the seaweed grows to that size,” explains Mr. Hachiya.

Pump up the “underground seawater” and continue stirring

The tanks are filled with “underground seawater,” which reportedly maintains an ideal environment for seaweed growth throughout the year. Pumped from a depth of 20 meters underground, this “underground seawater” is naturally filtered as it passes through layers of sand and other geological strata from the ocean, ensuring clean water and a stable temperature. Furthermore, when it rains, freshwater mixes in, and on sunny days, photosynthesis flourishes. For seaweed that thrives in brackish waters where the sea and rivers meet, this location provides an environment close to nature.

Furthermore, the “groundwater” in the tanks circulated slowly in a circular pattern. Since striped green laver absorbs nutrients from the surface of its thallus and grows through photosynthesis, an environment with constant water flow and even light exposure is essential. Generally, seaweed grows normally by attaching itself to substrates such as stones or rocks using holdfasts, but here, the blue-striped laver is attached to one another. It spreads radially from the holdfasts—which function as roots—and is cultivated as it drifts through the water in a form resembling a bundle of fine threads, allowing it to grow to a uniform size.

Land-based cultivation, which holds potential different from that of marine cultivation

When I reached into the tank, the green suji aonori swayed gently and brushed against my fingertips. When I put it in my mouth raw, its fresh, vibrant green flavor spread throughout my mouth. I’ve heard that dried suji aonori turns a more vivid green and has a stronger aroma than the fresh variety. I’ve also heard that fresh suji aonori can be eaten as tempura, but either way, the natural, refreshing quality of the seaweed is sure to stand out.

Since suji aonori is widely distributed from Hokkaido to Okinawa, even within the same species, characteristics such as temperature tolerance and growth rate vary by region. When Sea Vegetable began land-based cultivation in Kochi, they focused not only on these characteristics but also on selecting elite strains with superior aroma and texture as food ingredients. They reportedly screened suji aonori from across the country and underwent a process of trial and error.

Next, I tried the eating method recommended by Mr. Hachiya. When I sprinkled powdered land-cultivated Suji Aonori onto a bag of lightly salted potato chips, I could taste the umami of the sea and experience its deep aroma. They say that growing it on land allows for meticulous nutritional management, resulting in a richer aroma and umami.

Looking Beyond Aonori: A Vision for the Future

Since seaweed reproduces via spores, the conditions for germination and growth vary by species. At Sea Vegetable, research is ongoing to identify the optimal cultivation methods while unraveling the characteristics of each individual species.

Black nori cultivation is now in full swing

They have also established a land-based cultivation technique for black nori, which has long been a cornerstone of Japanese food culture. They plan to successfully achieve mass production of black nori via land-based cultivation (300 kg or more in dried weight) by fiscal year 2025 and begin preparations for mass production starting in fiscal year 2026.

Mr. Hachiya stated, “There is a huge global market for black nori, so first, we want to establish the technology for land-based production and provide it to fishermen and companies in coastal areas who are losing their livelihoods, thereby creating new sources of income. At the same time, Japan has unique species of seaweed in each region, and quite a few are at risk of extinction. We are also considering raising seedlings for these species on land and releasing them back into the sea in their respective regions to establish aquaculture beds.” Ultimately, the goal is to restore the natural abundance of seaweed in the ocean.

However, per capita consumption of seaweed in Japan has fallen to about half of what it was 30 years ago, due to the diversification of the diet. Seaweed, which once naturally graced dining tables alongside traditional Japanese cuisine, is losing its presence as Western and Chinese cuisines become more widespread in daily life. Mr. Hachiya says, “The potential of seaweed isn’t limited to Japanese cuisine. Aonori goes well with pizza, and sprinkling it on potato chips releases a surprisingly rich aroma. I feel that the key to solving the problem of declining consumption lies precisely in genres we haven’t tried before, so I want to conduct various tests and share our findings.”

Develops Soy Sauce Made from Suji Aonori and Opens a Seaweed Specialty Store

One of their new challenges is “Aonori Soy Sauce,” made from Suji Aonori. This seasoning is produced by fermenting only aonori, salt, and rice—without using soybeans or wheat. It has a pale amber color. When tasted, the aroma of the sea fills the mouth, making it a perfect match for seafood. Because it is gluten-free and soy-free, the company receives many inquiries from overseas, and the product has become a symbol of the new value of seaweed.

Near Tokyo Station, we’ve opened “Sea Veg Stand,” a restaurant specializing in seaweed cuisine. It serves dishes like Suji Aonori Potatoes, dishes featuring “Mirin”—a rare red seaweed traditionally eaten in regions like Kumamoto—and ramen generously topped with seaweed, making it a hub that showcases the appeal of seaweed from multiple angles. This is where our effort to revive the “culture of eating seaweed” is beginning.

Researchers Hold the Key to Success

The lab is the key to Sea Vegetable’s business. It handles the most critical initial stage of land-based cultivation of Suji Aonori. Aonori harvested and cultivated at the lab is transferred to the land-based facility after about one month, where it is grown for another month before being harvested.

The mind-boggling task of sorting spores

“To succeed in land-based cultivation, the most important thing is to consistently harvest spores from the parent plants of striped green laver and raise them without letting them die,” says researcher Nigi. “If they die at that stage, there will naturally be nothing to send to the cultivation site. It’s crucial to remove anything—such as bacteria—that could harm the green laver spores and successfully raise them.”

The greatest challenge in cultivating Suji Aonori is maintaining the parent strains in a constantly healthy state to ensure a stable supply of spores throughout the year. It also involves the process of extracting spores from the parent strains and ensuring they grow stably without dying. To raise the spores healthily, it is necessary to thoroughly eliminate harmful impurities, such as bacteria, and maintain appropriate temperature control.

Holding a small petri dish, Mr. Nigi explains, “At first, they’re really just round specks about 10 microns in size.” Ten microns is 0.01 millimeters. Although the spores are invisible to the naked eye, they can be observed under a microscope, and after a few days, you can see them growing into the characteristic shape of aonori.

Nigi was performing a painstakingly delicate task, repeatedly and carefully using a pipette to aspirate the approximately 10-micron spores, isolating only the “high-purity spores.”

シーベジタブルを支える研究者

Furthermore, Mr. Nigi explains, “The harvest season for natural nori runs from fall through early spring; since growth stops in the summer, it wasn’t suitable for harvesting. However, to maximize the utilization of our facilities for land-based cultivation, we need to grow a combination of strains with different temperature tolerances. So, even within the same ‘Suji Aonori’ variety, we’ve tested about 100 different strains from Hokkaido to Okinawa to find the most suitable ones.”

Generally, land-based cultivation involves significant capital investment and operating costs, making profitability crucial. That is precisely why selecting strains that are resilient to environmental conditions and grow efficiently is the key to establishing this as a viable industry. Researchers are tackling this challenge as they strive to pave the way for the future of seaweed cultivation.

When seaweed returns, the future of the ocean will change

Seaweed forms the foundation of the marine ecosystem. As natural seaweed beds decline, a research report by the Good Sea General Incorporated Association reveals surprising results: using seedlings grown on land for offshore cultivation can increase fish populations by up to approximately 36 times compared to uncultivated waters.

As seaweed increases, fish return, and the ocean regains its abundance. Seaweed cultivation is not only a way to preserve our food culture but also an initiative that supports the future of the ocean. Sea Vegetable aims to become a reliable force—extending beyond the borders of Japan—to pass on a bountiful ocean to the next generation.

The post “Sea Vegetable LLC,” based in Kochi City, Kochi Prefecture, aims to preserve seaweed culinary traditions and the richness of the ocean through the world’s first land-based cultivation of aonori using underground seawater. first appeared on NIHONMONO.

There is no doubt that high-quality ingredients are one of the key elements that make a star chef’s dish stand out. In Amakusa City, Kumamoto Prefecture, there is a fishmonger who serves as the expert eye behind this. His philosophy is to select the very best fish and live up to the chefs’ trust, while also keeping the livelihoods of local fishermen in mind. The man who bridges the sea and the kitchen is Mitsuteru Honda.

料理人を通して、天草の魚の価値を再認識

Mr. Honda has always loved fish and used to work at a local fish market. He was influenced by a chef from the Kansai region he met there, which made him realize the importance of experiencing the “outside” world. “Because Amakusa is an island, I rarely had the chance to leave it,” Mr. Honda said. “But as I began seeing fish from other regions and dining at famous restaurants, I felt my world expanding.” He felt a sense of pride upon learning that the fish from Amakusa, where he was born and raised, were being recognized by chefs.

At the same time, however, he also realized the reality that it is difficult to sell fish at high prices when selling locally. The number of fishermen in Japan is on the decline, particularly among younger generations, and the harsh business environment is cited as a major factor. “I thought that if I could find customers willing to pay a fair price, I would be able to buy fish from the fishermen at a higher price as well. I believed that doing so would help support the livelihoods of local fishermen,” he said.

Becoming independent to support the livelihoods of fishermen

He later left the fish market to open his own shop, “Honda-ya.” When he opened the shop, he reportedly received passionate encouragement from chefs he had known since his days working at the fish market, who told him, “It doesn’t matter how much it costs—just get us the best fish!” He then held numerous discussions with local fishermen and established a partnership to ensure the final quality by improving the quality of primary processing—such as temperature control immediately after the catch.

Look at all the fish at the market and bid on only the best ones

The Amakusa Islands, located in southwestern Kumamoto Prefecture, consist of 120 islands of various sizes. At the fish market in Hondō, Amakusa City—located at the heart of the archipelago—3 to 5 metric tons of fish are delivered daily from three fishing grounds: the Ariake Sea, the Shiranui Sea, and the East China Sea. On busy days, the market receives as many as 300 different species. At 7:00 a.m., the live fish auction begins, and the spirited voices of the auctioneers and middlemen ring out in unison. Mr. Honda, with a calm demeanor, confidently bids on and wins the fish he has his eye on, one after another, without hesitation.

Rather than targeting specific fish, Mr. Honda’s approach is to examine all the fish available at the market that day and purchase every one he deems to be of high quality. Conversely, it is also part of Mr. Honda’s philosophy that even if a chef has placed an order for a specific species, he will not bid on it if the quality does not meet his standards, and will simply tell the chef, “We don’t have it.” This is because, ultimately, it does not serve the chefs’ best interests to lower quality standards just to source a particular species. Mr. Honda’s honest approach and keen eye for quality have earned him a strong reputation, and he enjoys the deep trust of “star chefs” who have earned stars in the Michelin Guide, including “Shimazu,” a hard-to-book sushi restaurant in Tokyo; “Sushi Sanshin,” one of Kansai’s premier establishments; and “pesceco,” a restaurant in Nagasaki.

To the chef, in the best possible condition

Furthermore, Mr. Honda is particular about how the fish are handled at the restaurant. Immediately after being caught, fish are in a state of excitement; lactic acid and blood flow into their muscles, which degrades their flavor, and their flesh becomes firm and tight due to stress. For this reason, live fish purchased are first transported to the restaurant’s holding tanks and allowed to rest until their stress subsides. He then calculates the time it will take for the fish to reach the chefs and personally performs the nerve-cutting and bleeding procedures himself. “My job is to deliver the very best fish to the chefs. It’s not just a matter of winning the bid and sending them off—I have a responsibility to hand over fish that have been prepared to be in their optimal condition,” says Mr. Honda.

On this day, Mr. Honda prepared three types of sashimi for us to taste: grouper, Ishigaki sea bream, and yellowtail. Aged for about a week, the fat had melded so deeply into the flesh that it practically repelled the soy sauce, and we were amazed by the flavor—a true concentration of umami. It’s no wonder that fishermen and chefs from all over the country visit his shop to learn from Mr. Honda’s knowledge and techniques, such as how to condition live fish and how to properly prepare them.

Supporting fishermen also helps protect the ocean.

“In the past, it was all about selling as much as possible, but things are different now. Due to various factors, the marine food web has collapsed; the seaweed and plankton that serve as food sources have declined, and fish populations are shrinking,” says Mr. Honda. As a result, fish prices have been rising year after year, and he fears that if this trend continues, fish will become a food item accessible only to a select few who can afford it.

Mr. Honda believes that if we can create a society where high-quality fish are traded at fair prices, fishermen will be able to earn a fair income. He believes this will not only prevent overfishing but also ensure that the fishing industry is passed down to the next generation, ultimately helping to preserve our rich oceans. The opening of “Honda-ya” was the first step toward realizing that vision.

In 2026, “Honda-ya” will mark its 10th anniversary. Mr. Honda’s eyes sparkle as he says, “I can feel the circle of people I’ve connected with—all because of this work—expanding year by year.”

His discerning eye at the market, his dialogue with fishermen, and his sense of responsibility toward chefs.

Each of these small steps has become a path leading him, little by little, toward the future he has envisioned: “a society where fish is traded at a fair price.” Looking ahead, Mr. Honda expresses his desire to continue meeting artisans from various fields and learning from them. Ten years after opening, the journey of “Honda-ya”—which was meant to be just a “first step”—is now transforming into a tangible sense of accomplishment. Today, as always, Mr. Honda stands between the sea and the kitchen, constantly thinking about what he can do to prepare for the next decade.

The post A fish connoisseur who has earned the unwavering trust of star chefs. Mitsuteru Honda of “Honda-ya” / Amakusa City, Kumamoto Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

Otawara City in Tochigi Prefecture ranks first in the prefecture for rice production. Among its producers, Masahide Akutsu of Akutsu Farm boasts a track record of awards at the “Rice Taste Analysis and Appraisal Competition” and has received numerous other accolades, including certification as “Toyo Rice World’s Best Rice 2022.” Given that rice from Tochigi Prefecture is not particularly well-known, why is the rice produced by Mr. Akutsu so highly regarded?

Land Suitable for Rice Production: Otawara City

Otawara City is located on a vast alluvial fan in the Nasu region of northern Tochigi Prefecture, known as “Nasuno-gahara.” It is home to the Nasu Irrigation Canal, one of Japan’s three major irrigation canals. The water flowing from the Nasu mountain range is groundwater rich in minerals. Thanks to this abundant water source, the area is well-suited for rice cultivation.

Of course, it’s not just about the water. The area has fertile soil, and its climate—with sufficient temperature and sunlight in summer to promote rice growth and winter cold that suppresses pest infestations—combined with a flat terrain that facilitates water management and allows for the development of large-scale rice paddies, has made it a prime rice-growing region.

The name “Otawara City” is said to derive from “O-tawara” (large rice bale), reflecting the fact that this has long been a region with a thriving rice production industry.

Rice from Tochigi Prefecture: High on the Rice Production Rankings, Yet Little Known

According to data on “Crop Conditions and Yields of Paddy and Upland Rice by Season (by Agricultural Region and Prefecture Nationwide)” released by the Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries in 2021, Tochigi Prefecture ranks eighth nationwide in rice production by yield. However, rice produced in Tochigi is not particularly well known. This is because the prefecture capitalizes on its proximity to the Tokyo metropolitan area, with rice for commercial use being the mainstay of its production.

Commercial rice refers to rice used in restaurant chains, convenience store bento boxes, and school lunches—not the rice sold for home use in supermarkets and other retail outlets. Although we have many opportunities to consume it, we rarely see the place of origin or brand name when eating it, which makes it difficult for “Tochigi rice” to gain widespread recognition.

In fact, according to 2017 data from the Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries, Tochigi ranked first among the top 10 prefectures with the highest proportion of sales for commercial use, with nearly 70 percent of its rice sales going to that sector.

A region that isn’t well-known but produces delicious rice

Mr. Akutsu grows rice in this environment. Since his family ran a farm, he began working in agriculture after graduating from college—and it’s been about 20 years since then. He has now succeeded his father, with whom he currently grows rice, becoming the fifth-generation farmer.

The turning point came about eight years ago when he entered the “Rice Taste Analysis and Appraisal Contest” for the first time.

Although Mr. Akutsu was aware of the competition’s existence, he had never entered it until then. However, he says he had a firm confidence that “the rice from this region is delicious”—and above all, that “the rice from my own farm, which I eat every day, is even more delicious!” So, upon learning that anyone could enter, he recalls thinking, “If I enter, maybe I’ll win a prize?” and submitted his entry with a lighthearted attitude.

However, in 2016—his first year of entry—at the “18th Rice Taste Analysis and Appraisal Competition,” he immediately won the Special Excellence Award in the “Prefectural Representative Rice Championship” category. He was particular about the Koshihikari he grew and had confidence in it. While he thought, “See? If I enter, I can win after all,” he also sensed the limits of achieving a top ranking with “Koshihikari.”

This is because Koshihikari is the most widely cultivated variety in Japan, so the number of entries in the competition is overwhelmingly high, with producers from all over the country flocking to submit their rice. Just as he was feeling that “it would be difficult to aim any higher with Koshihikari,” he began searching for “something else” on his own—and that’s when he discovered “Yudai 21.”

My Encounter with “Yudai 21,” a Variety Developed at Utsunomiya University

Around that time, the “Rice Taste Analysis and Appraisal Competition” began awarding the Gold Prize in the International General Category to a variety called “Yudai 21.”

Yudai 21 is a rice variety developed at a national university; it was created over a period of 20 years from a rice plant discovered by chance at the farm affiliated with the Faculty of Agriculture at Utsunomiya University in Tochigi Prefecture, and was registered as a variety in 2010. Although it is considered difficult to cultivate—as the plants grow tall and are prone to lodging, and fertilizer and water management require delicate care and technical skill—it truly shines in environments where careful attention can be given, such as in mid-mountainous areas, and is a variety capable of achieving yields and quality on par with or exceeding those of Koshihikari. Furthermore, Yudai 21 has a strong sweetness and a rich, distinctive flavor, leading us to intuitively recognize its potential for acceptance among general consumers. Consequently, we decided to begin cultivating Yudai 21 the following year (2017).

Initiatives Undertaken Before the Creation of Yudai 21

Even before establishing Yudai 21, Mr. Akutsu had become increasingly determined to “grow rice without using pesticides” and had been working toward pesticide-free cultivation. He says this effort was inspired by his desire to help alleviate his family’s allergies.

Pesticide-free cultivation—which involves the arduous task of weeding—took some time to gain the understanding of his father, the previous generation of farmers, but by starting with a small plot of land, he gradually earned his father’s approval.

Yudai 21 is also adopting pesticide-free farming practices

Given this background, Yudai 21 began cultivation on 3 tanbo (roughly the size of 12 tennis courts) without using any pesticides.

The farm gradually increased its production, and by the fourth year of cultivation, it was growing Yudai 21 on more than half of the approximately 4 hectares dedicated to rice for staple food consumption.

Why Is “Yudai 21,” Made by Mr. Akutsu, So Delicious?

Yudai 21 is characterized by its large, glossy grains and attractive appearance. When tasted, it is praised for its rich umami flavor and well-balanced taste, with a sweetness that becomes more pronounced the more you chew.

Demand has been growing year by year as people who have actually tasted it say it’s “delicious,” and Akutsu Farm is reportedly expanding its cultivation area every year.

Why “Akutsu Farm” Was Chosen, Even Among Highly Rated Varieties

As mentioned earlier, Otawara City, where Akutsu Farm is located, is an ideal region for growing rice. It is said that when nighttime temperatures drop, the rice absorbs nutrients that enhance its flavor and transports them to the ears.

Akutsu Farm is surrounded by mountains and sits at an elevation of 200 meters. The significant temperature difference between day and night is believed to influence the flavor. Additionally, water is drawn into the rice paddies from the nearby Sabi River; for about 4 km upstream from Akutsu Farm, this river flows underground. As a result, the water can be drawn into the paddies while it is still cold, and this low water temperature helps lower the nighttime air temperature, which is said to further enhance the flavor.

Furthermore, Akutsu Farm’s rice paddies are situated on a river floodplain, where the soil is rich in minerals and highly fertile—a factor that likely makes the already delicious “Yudai 21” even more flavorful.

Pesticide-free cultivation has maximized the potential of Yudai 21

But that’s not all. Mr. Akutsu’s commitment to pesticide-free farming is likely another reason.

He says the most difficult part of pesticide-free farming is weed control.

To make weed control possible, he spaces the plants farther apart so that weeds can be removed from both the front and back. While typically 50 seedlings are planted per tsubo, the pesticide-free “Yudai 21” variety uses a “37-seedling-per-tsubo” planting method, reducing the number of plants by about 40 percent.

With this sparse planting method, the wider spacing between plants creates a V-shaped space where the ears of rice spread out, allowing sunlight to reach even the leaves at the base of the plants. Additionally, because nutrients are distributed more evenly, the ears are more likely to grow large.

Furthermore, the improved airflow between plants makes it harder for diseases such as “rice blast” and “sheath blight” to take hold, resulting in the production of robust rice plants.

Of course, no herbicides are used; instead, natural substances such as yeast, natto bacteria, and lemongrass extract—which repels insects—are sprayed to achieve pesticide-free cultivation. Even so, depending on the season, Mr. Akutsu enters the rice paddies every day to weed by hand.

Mr. Akutsu’s “Yudai 21,” cultivated with great care and effort, has earned high praise and is supplied to stores such as Mitsukoshi, Isetan, and The Ritz-Carlton Nikko. In 2025, it began being carried by “the rice factory,” a specialty store for Japanese rice with locations in New York and Los Angeles.

Demand for pesticide-free rice is particularly high overseas, and Mr. Akutsu’s efforts are highly regarded.

“Yudai 21” has been highly acclaimed since its first year of cultivation

Yudai 21, produced by Akutsu Farm, won the Gold Award in the Prefectural Division of the “Rice Taste Analysis and Appraisal Competition” in its very first year of production.

The following year, it received the Special Excellence Award in the International Comprehensive Division—the competition’s highest category—and in its fourth year, at the “23rd Rice Taste Analysis and Appraisal Competition,” it won the Gold Award in the International Comprehensive Division. From among the brown rice varieties that won Gold Awards at the “Rice Taste Analysis and Appraisal Competition,” this rice was certified as part of the “Toyo Rice World’s Best Rice 2022” program—organized by Toyo Rice, a comprehensive rice manufacturer famous for its “Kinme Rice”—which carefully selects the highest-grade brown rice based on its own criteria emphasizing “deliciousness and vitality.” As a result, the farm became one of only four producers nationwide to be selected as a supplier of raw rice for the world’s best rice.

The Evangelist of Yudai 21

It is reported that Utsunomiya University—the creator of “Yudai 21”—plans to partner with municipalities and other entities to use “Yudai 21” for town revitalization efforts.

Mr. Akutsu has been appointed as the “Yudai 21 Evangelist” by Utsunomiya University and will be responsible for sharing cultivation methods and other knowledge with local farmers.

It would be wonderful if “Yudai 21” served as a catalyst for raising the profile of Tochigi-grown rice nationwide, leading to increased attention for all rice produced in Tochigi Prefecture—regardless of variety.

To that end, Mr. Akutsu—embracing both the title and responsibility of “ambassador”—continues his outreach efforts today, hoping that people will “try ‘Yudai 21,’ a rice variety with a unique flavor unlike any other.”

The post Masahide Akutsu of “Akutsu Farm,” Who Grows Rice Using the “Yudai 21” Variety Developed in Tochigi / Otawara City, Tochigi Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

Izumo Taisha, one of Japan’s most iconic ancient shrines, appears in the Kojiki and Nihon Shoki. This shrine, which enshrines Ōkuninushi-no-Ōkami—the god of nation-building—is also known as the site of “Kamiarizuki” (the Month of the Gods), when deities from across the nation gather in the 10th month of the lunar calendar. It is said that the gods gather here to discuss people’s “fates and connections,” and even today, approximately 2 million visitors come to the shrine each year. Why do people make the pilgrimage here?

One of Japan’s most historic shrines, where myths of the nation’s founding have been passed down through the ages

The origins of Izumo Taisha trace back to the “Myth of the Transfer of the Country.” Ōkuninushi-no-Ōkami, who founded the province of Izumo, was asked by an envoy of Amaterasu-ōmikami—who resided in “Takamagahara,” the realm believed to be the dwelling place of the gods—to cede the province, and ultimately accepted the offer. It is said that he stipulated, as a condition, that a magnificent shrine be built to enshrine him. This shrine marks the beginning of Izumo Taisha.

The Belief That Spread as the “God of Unions”

Izumo Taisha is known as a shrine for “matchmaking.” While many people associate it with romantic success, Okuninushi-no-Okami—the deity enshrined there—has traditionally been revered as a god who supports people’s daily lives.

“Okuninushi-no-Okami is a deity who supports people’s very way of life—through agriculture, medicine, and more,” says Atsuhiko Ono, former executive director of the Izumo Tourism Association.

He explains that while the deity was revered as a guardian of various aspects of daily life, as this faith spread, people began to strongly associate him with the role of the “god of connections”—one who brings people and things together.

Within the shrine grounds, a diverse crowd—from families and friends to solo travelers—comes and goes, joining their hands in prayer. Many visit not only for matters of romance but also to pray for life milestones, new encounters, and daily connections. The concept of “go-en” (fate or connection) at Izumo Taisha is, perhaps, a prayer that is deeply intertwined with daily life itself.

The majestic presence of “Taisha-zukuri,” Japan’s oldest style of shrine architecture

The Main Hall of Izumo Taisha is built in the “Taisha-zukuri” style, considered Japan’s oldest shrine architecture. It is a large, elevated structure approximately 24 meters high, characterized by its elegant “gable-and-hip” roof, with the triangular roof visible from the front.

The unpainted, natural-wood pillars and the roof covered with thick layers of cypress bark convey the power and grandeur of ancient architecture to this day.

One of Japan’s largest sacred straw ropes and the Kagura Hall, which exudes an overwhelming presence

The Kagura Hall, where prayer services, weddings, and offerings are held, is also one of the buildings that symbolizes Izumo Taisha. When it was rebuilt in 1981, it was expanded into a grand hall spanning 270 tatami mats. To match its scale, one of Japan’s largest shimenawa (sacred straw ropes) was hung there.

It measures approximately 13.6 meters in length and weighs about 5.2 metric tons. Compared to the shimenawa at the Haiden (approximately 6.5 meters long and weighing about 1 metric ton), the difference in scale is immediately apparent. Generally speaking, one might find it odd that a shimenawa larger than that of the main Haiden is displayed here, but in fact, the Kaguraden originated during the Meiji period as a shrine of the Izumo Taisha-kyo religion, dedicated to enshrining Okuninushi-no-Okami separately from the Main Hall, and thus has a different history from the Main Hall. Precisely because it is an independent shrine hall dedicated to Kagura, a large shimenawa befitting its scale is displayed there. When you actually stand before it, its sheer size exceeds all expectations. Worshipers instinctively stop in their tracks, looking up and taking photos.

The shimenawa not only marks a sacred place where the gods dwell but also serves as a barrier (kekkai) that delineates the boundary between the sacred and the secular worlds.

Unique features not found at other shrines

Izumo Taisha retains several unique customs that set it apart from other shrines.
First, the “Goshinsa” (divine seat) where the deity resides faces west. At most shrines, the main hall is typically built facing east—where the sun rises—or south, where sunlight shines. There are various theories regarding why it faces west, such as “to welcome deities arriving from the west” or “to align with the direction of the setting sun,” but there is no definitive answer. Furthermore, the shimenawa (sacred straw ropes) are distinctive. While at most shrines they are braided so that the left side is thicker, at Izumo Taisha, the thicker end of the braid is positioned on the right. The exact reason for this is also unknown. This abundance of mysteries is undoubtedly one of the charms of Izumo Taisha.
Furthermore, the ritual for enshrining the deities, known as “saisi,” has been carried out for generations by the Izumo Kuni no Miyatsuko families (the Senke and Kitajima families). Due to this tradition, which originates from the myth of the Transfer of the Country, the Main Hall is regarded as a particularly sacred sanctuary.

Was there a “giant temple about 48 meters tall” in ancient times?

The current main hall was constructed in 1744 (mid-Edo period). However, it is said that in ancient times, a majestic shrine building approximately 48 meters tall—roughly twice the height of the existing structure—once stood here. As if to corroborate this, between 2000 and 2001, three pillars—each about 3 meters in diameter and formed by binding together three giant trees—were unearthed at three different locations within the shrine grounds. These are believed to have been pillars used to support the massive structure.

Furthermore, some legends suggest the structure may have reached a height of approximately 96 meters. This height is equivalent to that of Mount Yakumo, which looms behind the shrine; if true, the shrine that ancient people looked up to may have resembled a tower reaching toward the sky.

Passing on Our Faith to Future Generations in Preparation for the Next Shrine Relocation

At Izumo Taisha, a ritual known as “Sengū” (the relocation of the shrine) is performed approximately once every 60 years, during which the sacred object is moved to a temporary shrine or a new main hall in conjunction with the construction or renovation of the shrine buildings. During the “Heisei Grand Sengū,” which took place from 2008 to 2019, the Main Hall, as well as the subsidiary and branch shrines, were renovated; in 2013, the Senzasai ceremony was held to return the divine image to the Main Hall. Approximately 10,000 domestically sourced hinoki cypress trees were used, and the vast cypress-bark roof was also re-thatched.

Furthermore, with an eye toward the next Grand Relocation, new tree-planting initiatives were carried out in the Chūgoku Mountains. Since it takes over 100 years for the trees to reach maturity, those who plant them will almost certainly never use the wood themselves.

The 60-year milestone coincides with the span of a human lifetime. Through the Grand Relocation, while adapting techniques and methods to the times, the essence of prayer has been passed down to future generations. It is believed that the rebirth of the shrine buildings brings new vitality to the entire region.

Suddenly sensing the presence of God

“In myths and books, gods are often depicted in human form, aren’t they? But I think, at its core, it’s really about sensing what is invisible to the eye.” Mr. Ono reflects on an experience he had during the Heisei Grand Relocation Ceremony.

It was the day of the Relocation Ceremony in 2013. It is said that it was raining heavily. However, as soon as the ritual began, the rain stopped completely. And the moment the ritual ended, large raindrops began to fall once again.
“It might have been a coincidence. But when you have an experience like that, you can’t help but think, ‘Ah, maybe there really is something to it.’”

Izumo Taisha has a long history of people offering prayers and passing down their faith from generation to generation. The sacred atmosphere that permeates the shrine grounds is likely another reason why people feel such a deep connection to this place.

Be grateful for everyday life and wish for a fulfilling life

“Visitors to Izumo Taisha follow a variety of religions,” says Mr. Ono. “But at its core, the fundamental philosophy is the same for everyone.”

Shinto, which has been cherished at this shrine, has evolved over its long history through interactions with philosophies such as Buddhism and Confucianism. As a faith that is tolerant of other religions and values the connections between the land and its people, it continues to thrive in everyday life today.

A solemn atmosphere pervades the approach to the shrine, and from early morning until evening, there is a constant stream of people joining their hands in prayer.

The bonds between people, the blessings of nature, and the very fact of being alive here and now—Izumo Taisha may be a place that reminds us of the preciousness of such everyday moments.

Amid the solemn atmosphere, when you join your hands in prayer before the main hall, your heart mysteriously finds peace.

That is precisely why people visit this place, joining their hands in prayer while reflecting on the invisible “bonds” that connect us all.

The post Izumo Taisha: The Shrine That Forges Bonds of Happiness / Izumo City, Shimane Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

In the mountainous region of Yabakei Town in northern Oita Prefecture—where rugged rocky mountains and clear streams intertwine—lush green tea fields stretch out. Tetsuya Kawatani, the second-generation owner of “Kawatani-en Tea Farm,” oversees every aspect of the business here, from tea cultivation to sales. He was the first person west of Shizuoka to be awarded the title of “Tea Sage” and is recognized as a leading figure in Oita’s tea industry.

Cultivating tea on mountain land as part of a government initiative

The history of tea production at Kawatani-en began in Showa 49. Originally, Mr. Kawatani’s grandfather primarily engaged in mountain work, such as charcoal burning and shiitake mushroom cultivation. Then, around the time his father took over the family business, a government initiative led to the introduction of tea cultivation. Recognizing that the mountain work of his grandfather’s generation yielded low profits, Mr. Kawatani’s father began cultivating the newly cleared land, which marked the start of the family’s involvement in the tea industry. Initially, they cultivated only three or four varieties, including “Yabukita,” which accounts for approximately 70 to 80 percent of Japan’s tea fields. However, after Mr. Kawatani entered the industry and studied tea varieties extensively, he began sourcing various cultivars. As a result, the farm now cultivates a total of eight varieties: seven main varieties—Saemidori, Asatsuyu, Asanoka, Harumidori, Yabukita, Okumidori, and Sakimidori—plus a small amount of Benifuki.

The Challenge to “Asatsuyu,” Which Even Experts Vehemently Opposed

Among them, there is one variety that symbolizes Mr. Kawatani’s passion for tea cultivation. It is “Asatsuyu,” also known as “Natural Gyokuro” for its overwhelming umami and vivid green color. To experts, growing this extremely delicate and cold-sensitive variety in Yabakei—where winters are bitterly cold—seemed “reckless,” and he reportedly faced fierce opposition even from the researchers at the experimental station. Nevertheless, Mr. Kawatani believed in the potential of tea nurtured by Yabakei’s natural environment and took that first step.

“My father was still in good health at the time, but the fact that the professor flatly told us, ‘It’s impossible,’ actually ignited our rebellious spirit—that was one of the reasons we decided to go ahead with cultivation,” says Mr. Kawatani.

Kawatani-en is located at an elevation of approximately 550 meters. While areas with significant temperature fluctuations between day and night are considered ideal for tea cultivation, if it gets so cold that frost sets in, the leaves will be ruined. Kawatani-en lies right on the edge of that ideal range, and the tea plants do occasionally suffer frost damage. However, Mr. Kawatani explains, “Tea leaves grown in harsh environments develop into mellow, fragrant buds of exceptional quality.” The characteristic of Asatsuyu tea—its sensitivity to cold—can also be viewed as the potential to accumulate incredible sweetness and richness once it survives a harsh winter. Adversity, in other words, gives rise to the depth of its flavor.

A Commitment to Fertilizers That Build on Tradition and Have Evolved Through Science

Alongside his exploration of tea varieties, Mr. Kawatani has devoted his efforts to soil cultivation. Good soil is essential for growing high-quality tea. And while fertilizer—which provides nutrients—is indispensable for creating good soil, in his father’s day, perilla seed cake, rapeseed meal, and fish meal were each spread separately on the fields, and a nitrogen fertilizer called ammonium sulfate was applied separately to promote new growth. However, as the cultivation area expanded and Mr. Kawatani took sole responsibility for fertilization, he realized the difficulty of handling everything separately. That’s when he came up with the idea of mixing all the materials together from the start to create a single fertilizer. Around the same time, his father told him, “You can do whatever you like with the fertilizer’s ingredients,” which served as a turning point, and about five years ago, he took the plunge into creating his own blend.

The formula Mr. Kawatani arrived at incorporates two major innovations. The first is the use of fish meal and bone meal—which contain fish innards and bones—instead of the conventional fish trimmings. He explains that this is to infuse the soil with complex minerals and umami compounds. The second is the addition of liquid nitrogen at –196°C to the fertilizer to supplement the nitrogen essential for plant growth. The result is Mr. Kawatani’s unique blended fertilizer, composed almost entirely of organic materials.

Furthermore, he has incorporated “Soluble,” a liquid fertilizer, to promote the sprouting of new tea buds. Soluble is an organic liquid fertilizer rich in minerals and amino acids, made by concentrating fish broth. Mr. Kawatani says he feels the depth and richness of the tea’s flavor have changed compared to the ammonium sulfate he used previously. “However, Soluble does have a strong odor. Since it’s made from simmered fish broth, if it gets on your skin, it won’t come off no matter how much you wash it for about two days. If it gets on your hands, the taste is so strong that everything you eat will taste like it,” Mr. Kawatani said with a laugh.

While cherishing tradition, each cup of tea from Kawatani-en—refined through scientific curiosity—embodies the harsh climate of Yabakei and Mr. Kawatani’s unwavering determination to overcome its challenges.

The Art of Hand-Kneading: A Dedication to Continuity

Kawatani-en also offers hand-rolled tea. This hand-rolled tea, which is produced entirely by hand without the use of any machinery, is said to have been devised in the mid-Edo period by Nagatani Sōen, a tea merchant from Uji, Kyoto. The process takes approximately six hours: after steaming the tea leaves to soften them, the tea master stands for the entire duration, manually loosening, rolling, and kneading the leaves before drying them to complete the process. The finished tea leaves are long and slender, like needles, and because they are not subjected to excessive force by machines, they are said to return to their original shape when placed in hot water. The color of the brewed tea is extremely pale, and while a milky white hue is considered the highest quality for hand-rolled tea, when sipped, a rich umami flavor spreads across the palate that is unimaginable given its pale color. Due to the labor-intensive nature of the process, mass production is impossible, and because it requires highly skilled craftsmanship—leading to a dwindling number of tea rollers—hand-rolled tea commands an extremely high price when it reaches the market.

Mr. Kawatani first encountered hand-rolled tea at the age of 19, after graduating from high school, while training as an intern at the National Research Institute of Agricultural Sciences. One of his fellow trainees there was Tsuyoshi Nakajima, who would later win the national hand-rolled tea competition eight times and become the first person in Japan to be awarded the title of “Perpetual Tea Master.” The two men, who were the same age, honed their skills through friendly competition, and eventually, Mr. Kawatani also began competing in the contest. In 2011, he won the Minister of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries Award (First Place) and was awarded the title of “Tea Sage”—the first person from west of Shizuoka to receive this honor.

Why does Mr. Kawatani continue to produce hand-rolled tea, a labor-intensive process that cannot be mass-produced? The answer lies in his regrets from the past. He has missed the competition twice. The first time was when he suffered a sudden back spasm on the morning of the hand-rolling event; the second was when he began to feel a sense of resignation about continuing the practice. However, Mr. Kawatani says that for every moment of relief he felt from skipping the competition, he felt about 50 to 60 moments of regret, thinking, “I really should have participated after all.” It’s not about the results of the competition; it’s about doing the hand-rolling to intuitively confirm the quality of that year’s tea—the fact that skipping the competition actually made him realize the true significance of hand-rolling is what continues to drive Mr. Kawatani toward hand-rolled tea to this day.

“Tea that truly tastes like tea”—all in a single cup

In addition to hand-rolled tea, Kawatani-en offers a wide range of products, including sencha, deep-steamed tea, and hojicha—many of which were developed in response to customer feedback.

The flavor Mr. Kawatani strives for is “tea that truly tastes like tea.” When people talk about “delicious tea,” they often tend to focus on teas with a strong sweetness, and many people in general also describe such sweet teas as “delicious.” Mr. Kawatani himself once went through a phase where he relentlessly pursued sweetness, as if to respond to that sentiment. However, he could not shake his doubts about continuing to compete in that market, so he changed his approach. He sought a flavor that was not merely sweet, but also featured a crisp astringency and a refreshing finish. Setting that taste as his ideal, he arrived at the premium deep-steamed tea “Midori.” “Midori” is also the first tea he processes each year. Since he compares it with the previous year’s batch to find a blend that satisfies him, it takes at least two weeks from the time the new tea leaves are picked until the product is ready for sale. In today’s world of advanced logistics, where tea shops near the production areas can sometimes have products on the shelves just 3 to 5 days after picking, two weeks may seem extremely long—but it is the very embodiment of Mr. Kawatani’s dedication.

On the other hand, despite having long decided “not to make it,” there are some products we’ve added to our lineup after giving in to customer requests. One such product is genmaicha. While green tea is typically sold in packages of 50g or 100g, genmaicha is often sold in large quantities, such as 500g or 1kg. With that much on hand, once you buy genmaicha, you end up drinking nothing but genmaicha for quite a while, and your opportunities to drink green tea decrease—in Mr. Kawatani’s words, you get stuck in a “negative genmaicha loop.” Although he had maintained a firm stance against making genmaicha out of concern for this, after receiving passionate requests, he came to the conclusion, “Why not just use the brown rice we grow ourselves?” and decided to produce it.

The result is a product named “my Genmai.” What surprises you when you open the bag is that there isn’t a single green tea leaf inside. Literally, it contains “nothing but brown rice” that has been carefully roasted until fragrant and crisp. He deliberately avoids mixing it with green tea. This “aesthetics of subtraction” has created a level of freedom that overturns conventional wisdom about genmaicha. If you want to enjoy it as genmaicha, you’ll need to prepare the green tea yourself. With “my Genmai,” Mr. Kawatani’s concern that “people will drink less green tea once they start drinking genmaicha” has been resolved. Furthermore, by proposing new ways to use it—such as in salads or ochazuke (rice topped with tea) instead of croutons or rice crackers—the product has effortlessly transcended the traditional image of genmaicha. He has also developed a stick-type powdered genmaicha that dissolves in both hot water and cold water, which has also been well received.

Powdered tea is being adopted by gelato shops in Tokyo and chiffon cake classes in Chiba, among other places, leading to the development of a new consumer base that extends beyond simply drinking it. “The fact that it’s not limited to just drinking makes me feel that tea is still a product with a lot of potential,” Mr. Kawatani said, his eyes narrowing in a smile.

I want to raise the level of play in Kyushu and develop young players.

When it comes to famous tea-producing regions, Shizuoka and Sayama (in Saitama Prefecture) are the first places that come to mind. The name “Oita” rarely comes to the forefront. Mr. Kawatani candidly admits that if he were growing tea in the heart of one of those major producing regions, he wouldn’t stand a chance against the competition. “I’m confident that, in Kyushu today, I’m the only one capable of producing hand-rolled tea of this caliber. However, when it comes to national tea competitions, there are times when I simply can’t compete. At times like that, I’m painfully aware of just how far Kyushu still has to go,” says Mr. Kawatani. Of course, Kyushu does have cities like Yame and Ureshino that rank highly in national tea competitions. However, that’s in categories other than hand-rolled tea. When it comes to hand-rolled tea, they fall far short of regions like Sayama. 

That is precisely why Mr. Kawatani is so committed to raising the standard of tea production in Kyushu and nurturing the next generation of tea makers. To enter tea competitions, one must belong to a national organization, but since Oita Prefecture lacks such an organization, Mr. Kawatani himself belongs to an organization based in Yame, Fukuoka Prefecture. There is a young person in Yame who is currently developing his skills. A project to revitalize the Kyushu hand-rolled tea community—a collaboration between Mr. Kawatani and this young person—is now getting underway. Mr. Kawatani earnestly envisions a future where each prefecture in Kyushu nurtures one tea producer capable of making a name for themselves nationwide, and where Kyushu producers consistently win top prizes at tea competitions.

Hearing the words “That’s delicious” fills me with energy

My father, the founder of Kawatani-en, passed away in 2022. While he was alive, he had a goal of “doing what I can at 80 percent effort,” but now that I’m handling the family business entirely on my own, I’ve come to realize all too well that I have to give 100 or even 120 percent just to keep up. It’s by no means easy. However, every time I hear fellow industry professionals or customers say, “Kawatani-en’s tea is delicious,” I feel a surge of energy. The market is changing rapidly, and there’s no single “right” path, but he will continue to experiment flexibly—including with flavor profiles. Mr. Kawatani describes this mindset as “the battle continues until the tea reaches the customer’s mouth.”

The reality is that, under pressure from bottled green tea drinks, an increasing number of tea producers are giving up on selling loose tea leaves and shifting toward factories dedicated to beverage production. However, Mr. Kawatani takes issue with this trend. “I went to school and studied tea in depth, didn’t I?” he says. Unlike vegetables, the retail price of tea is unlikely to experience a major collapse. If that’s the case, there must be a way for the farmers who grow the tea leaves—not the wholesalers or company presidents—to turn a profit. He has consistently maintained this view, calling on his colleagues: “There must still be a way for producers to succeed. Let’s figure it out.”

During a training program after high school graduation, he and his classmates joked about a shared dream: “Let’s make it big enough that we can all drive Mercedes-Benzes to our class reunion.” It has been about 25 years since then. That dream has now deepened into a desire to “make money together, be happy together, and bring happiness to everyone around us as well.” He wants to bring happiness to people through tea production. Mr. Kawatani’s tea continues to be produced today in the mountain tea fields, born from that very passion.

The post The simple phrase “It’s delicious” is what drives his tea cultivation. Tetsuya Kawatani of “Kawatani-en Tea Farm,” Nakatsu City, Oita Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

Kochi Prefecture boasts the highest production volume of binchōtan in Japan. Muroto City is at the heart of this industry. Tosa binchōtan is made from freshly cut Ubame oak and is fired over a process lasting about 20 days. The leading charcoal maker in this field is dedicated to activities that look toward the future of Muroto, including training the next generation, securing raw materials, and environmental conservation.

The Climate of Muroto: Nurturing a Treasure Trove of Charcoal

Muroto City, located in eastern Kochi Prefecture, was once famous for being repeatedly hit by major typhoons. While the coastal area thrives as a fishing town, deep in the mountains, kilns for Tosa Bincho-tan charcoal are still scattered about, quietly giving off smoke. One of these is the workplace of Seichō Morimoto, a charcoal maker who has been producing charcoal for over 47 years.

The kiln where Mr. Morimoto burns Tosa Binchotan is located upstream along the clear Hane River, which flows through Muroto City. The history of white charcoal production in Tosa dates back to the Edo period. Here in Muroto, heavy and hard woods—including Ubame oak, which grows in the harsh environments of the coastline and rocky areas, as well as Arakaashi and Urajiro oak—grow wild. During the Meiji era, charcoal burners from Kishu moved to the Hane area, passing down their advanced techniques. Local artisans worked diligently to further improve the kilns, and eventually, Muroto gained national attention as a production center for Binchotan.

Research on earthen kilns is a lifelong endeavor.

Mr. Morimoto, who is now a prominent figure in the charcoal industry—having been selected as a “Master of the Forest” by the Public Interest Incorporated Association for the Promotion of National Land Greening in 2017—had actually aspired to become a pilot in his teens. After graduating from high school, he enrolled in a vocational school specializing in avionics, but gave up on that dream partway through. He worked as a salaryman in Tokyo until he was 30, then returned to his hometown with an eye toward the future.

At the time, while running a rice farm and raising livestock, he would cut down trees such as Ubame oak in the mountains and sell them to paper companies as raw material for pulp. The turning point came when a senior colleague—the only person in the area producing binchōtan—suggested, “It’s a waste to send this to be made into pulp. I’ll teach you—why don’t you try making charcoal?” That was his first encounter with binchōtan.

     By the Showa 30s, the charcoal industry was rapidly declining due to the development of household appliances and other products. As a result, many charcoal makers left the mountains. Mr. Morimoto restored an earthen kiln that had been left behind in the mountains and, seeking advice from his senior, went through a process of trial and error. Although he was a novice, he managed to produce charcoal of reasonably good quality. “Even my father was surprised,” Mr. Morimoto laughs.

“Even though I was following the same process, the quality of the charcoal gradually began to decline. When I investigated, I found cracks in the kiln walls that were letting the heat escape. After repairing them and trying again, the charcoal turned out to be of such high quality it was unrecognizable. That sparked my interest in the kiln itself, and I began to study the craft in earnest.”

At the time, there were many veteran charcoal burners in the area, and he says he drew inspiration from their individual techniques—even down to the shape of the kiln ceiling, noting that some specialized in “tokkuri” (sake flask) shapes while others preferred circular ones. “The heat retention capacity of the kiln floor, the kiln’s airtightness, and its structural strength—these three points are the most crucial elements in kiln construction,” Morimoto explains.

A blazing furnace. Standing there, feeling its heat with every fiber of my being.

Black charcoal and white charcoal are distinguished not so much by the type of wood used as by differences in “firing and finishing methods.” White charcoal, which includes Tosa Bincho-tan, is carbonized rapidly at temperatures exceeding 1,000 degrees, then scooped out of the kiln while still red-hot and rapidly cooled by covering it with soil and ash. The white ash that forms on the surface due to this rapid cooling gives it its name. The charcoal is hard and dense; when struck, it produces a clear, metallic ring, and it burns with intense heat for a long time. In contrast, black charcoal is burned slowly at a relatively low temperature; after being carbonized in a sealed kiln, it is left to cool inside the kiln. The finished product is black and soft; because it ignites easily and is simple to handle, it tends to be preferred for leisure and household use, unlike white charcoal, which is favored by specialty restaurants and other professional establishments.

Muroto became Japan’s leading producer of binchōtan—arguably the quintessential white charcoal—due to a confluence of several factors. These included an abundance of naturally growing oak species, particularly Ubame oak, which is ideal for use as raw timber; and in Meiji 40 (1907), Kuraji Ueno, a charcoal craftsman from Kishu who visited Muroto on the Shikoku Pilgrimage, recognized the shortcomings of Tosa’s rudimentary kilns at the time and taught the region the charcoal-making techniques used for Kishu Binchotan; and the fact that kilns were modified to suit Tosa’s climate, leading to the establishment of techniques for mass-producing high-quality charcoal in large kilns.

Above all, the establishment of a sustainable production system—achieved through the efforts of Mr. Morimoto and others to train successors and plant new trees—has been of immense importance.

So, how is this Tosa Bincho-tan charcoal made? First, Mr. Morimoto harvests Ubame oak from the mountains and arranges the logs side by side in the kiln, as if tossing them in. In doing so, he deliberately leaves gaps between them to create air pathways. He then lights the fire and heats the wood, steaming it for about a week to drive out the moisture from the logs. Mr. Morimoto emphasizes that managing this stage is crucial. If the moisture content of the logs remains too high, cracks will form later on, resulting in charcoal of inferior quality. During the initial stage when moisture levels are high, white smoke emerges from the chimney, but as drying progresses, the smoke gradually becomes transparent. While enduring the heat, he holds his hand over the smoke; if it feels damp, it’s not ready yet, but when it feels dry to the touch, that’s a sign the drying has progressed.

Once drying is complete, the kiln is sealed, and a very small amount of air is introduced to steam-bake the logs, carbonizing them. This process is called “nerashi” (refining) and is a crucial step for burning off impurities contained in the charcoal. Once carbonization is complete, the kiln door is opened to let in air, generating temperatures exceeding 1,000 degrees inside. The wood, now glowing red like iron in a blast furnace, is scooped out, and “subai” (a mixture of soil and ash) is applied to rapidly extinguish the fire and cool the charcoal, causing its surface to turn whitish.

This hard charcoal, unparalleled anywhere in the world, produces a beautiful, clear, metallic ringing sound—like “keen”—when struck.

The process from loading the kiln to unloading it takes about 20 days. The finished charcoal is sorted according to shape and thickness, standardized by size, and then placed in a dehumidification chamber to prevent moisture from re-entering.

The World’s Finest Charcoal, Supporting Culinary Culture

“Good binchōtan looks beautiful and burns for a long time,” Mr. Morimoto says, gazing straight ahead. High-quality charcoal can continue burning for three or even four hours. However, he candidly admits that it’s difficult to produce perfect binchōtan. If the “nerashi” (carbonization process) is overdone, the charcoal may look beautiful, but too many combustible components are lost, causing the heat output to drop. His words, “You have to strike that delicate balance,” reveal the depth of charcoal-making backed by years of experience. Then, his eyes sparkle like a young boy’s as he adds, “This binchōtan contributes to food culture—it’s the world’s finest charcoal.”

Binchōtan not only burns for a long time but also produces no smoke, so it doesn’t impart any unwanted odors to the food, allowing the natural flavors of the ingredients to shine through. Demand from high-end restaurants, eel restaurants, and yakitori shops—all seeking delicate flavors—is constant, and the charcoal is perpetually in short supply. While being pressed by wholesalers for more stock, he says he plans to fire up the kiln three times every two months this year as well.

We warmly welcome successors

Of course, things haven’t always gone smoothly. Starting in the late Showa era, inexpensive Chinese-made binchōtan began flooding the market, dealing a severe blow to domestic producers. Even Mr. Morimoto, who was still a young craftsman at the time, reportedly went through a prolonged period when his charcoal wouldn’t sell. Later, in the 2000s, China banned the export of charcoal; however, in the less than 20 years since then, the number of charcoal makers—which had been around 60—has dropped to about 20, with two-thirds of them having left the trade.

Currently, while production volume is limited, demand continues to come not only from within Japan but also from overseas, resulting in a persistent shortage of binchōtan. “If there are young people who want to make binchōtan their career, they’re more than welcome,” said Mr. Morimoto, expressing his desire to expand his ranks. To make it easier for newcomers to take that first step, he has promoted the adoption of labor-saving kilns that generate a steady income and the use of mechanization. He also lobbied the mayor of Muroto City, leading to the creation of a successor training program in 2011 that accepts about three trainees each year. Even after they become independent, he continues to provide ongoing support, including assistance with procuring ubame oak, the raw material for charcoal.

More than 30 people have already learned the craft from Mr. Morimoto, and about 10 of them have gone on to establish their own kilns both within and outside Kochi Prefecture. Currently, there are about 30 charcoal makers in Muroto City.

Experiencing the Harshness of the Mountains Firsthand

About a 10-minute drive from Mr. Morimoto’s kiln lies a mountain he owns. To reach the summit of this obviously rugged mountain, he personally operated heavy machinery to carve out a zigzagging path and graded it so that transport vehicles, such as four-wheel-drive light trucks, could climb it. Everyone uses chainsaws to cut down the Ubame oak trees located deep within the summit area. In places where transport vehicles cannot reach, they use wires to hoist the logs out.

Connecting the Future of Tosa Bincho Charcoal

In addition to planting “layering cuttings”—which are created by making incisions in the branches or trunks of parent Uba-megashi trees to induce rooting—the cooperative also commissions forest cooperatives and other organizations to plant saplings. A single charcoal maker uses approximately 5,000 Uba-megashi trees per hectare annually, and a 40-hectare area is sufficient to ensure a stable cycle from growth to harvest.

The reason for this is that Uba-megashi, the wood used for Bincho-tan, regenerates over approximately 20 years through “sprout regeneration,” in which new shoots sprout from the stump after felling. If the 40 hectares are harvested sequentially by section in accordance with this cycle, by the time the cycle is complete, the first section will have grown sufficiently. This eliminates the need for replanting or land clearing, thereby maintaining an environment where a single charcoal maker can continue working.

“Last year, we planted 40,000 saplings over 8 hectares, but we still need to plant about another 100 hectares,” he said as he led me to an area lined with rows of seedling pots. “This is Ubame oak; over here are Urajiro oak and Kunu oak. We plan to focus on planting these three species. Urajirogashi can be used for medicine and makes good charcoal. Kunugi is used for kiku-sumi charcoal in the tea ceremony. The acorns serve as animal feed. If we’re going to protect the natural environment, broadleaf trees are definitely better. They put down deep roots to prevent landslides, and even if the trees are cut down, the area returns to its original state,” he explained.

Registration as an Intangible Cultural Heritage: Toward the Dreams That Lie Ahead

Although this marks their third attempt, the prefecture and the charcoal makers are aiming to have Tosa Bincho-tan registered as an “Intangible Cultural Asset.” Mr. Morimoto says, “Preserving the technique and ensuring consistent quality. As long as we bear the name ‘Tosa Bincho-tan,’ we want to maintain a certain standard of quality.” He adds with a smile, “If it’s designated as an Intangible Cultural Asset, I feel like we might even be able to aim for World Heritage status.” “We aim to ensure the semi-permanent sustainability of the raw material—Uba-megashi oak—across the entire region and make this industry viable. We’ll reduce carbon dioxide emissions and protect the environment. I feel there is no other circular model quite like this,” he said, expressing his vision.

Training the next generation, securing raw materials, and preserving the environment. While tackling these three challenges, the veteran charcoal makers continue to forge a path toward the future of Tosa Binchotan and the region, showing no signs of stopping.

The post “Sumino Morisei, LLC”—a charcoal master dedicated to preserving the techniques of Tosa Bincho-tan, expanding its community, and actively promoting the afforestation of raw materials / Muroto City, Kochi Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.