AUG 24: The History and Legacy of Japan's Toji Guilds

The toji: master of intuition, logistics, craft and management

AUGUST 2024: TOJI GUILDS

This August, we dip into the fascinating, and mostly hidden, story of toji guilds: associations of toji (master brewers) and kurabito (brewery workers) in Japan. The influence, membership and role of toji guilds has declined significantly in the latter half of the 20th century, and in the last 20 years perhaps a dozen guilds have dissolved. But at their height, from the Edo period (1603-1868) to the late Showa (mid 60’s), guilds staffed essentially all of the sake breweries in Japan. The work, while hard, paid well– and was always in demand.

Most guilds are rooted in a government edict from the early Edo period that mandated kanzukuri, Winter brewing. This abolished year-round brewing, forcing all brewing activities to take place between October 1st and May 1st. The shogunate was interested in consolidating tax and yield monitoring around predictable dates, controlling rice supply and product quality. The result was that 1) particular skill in Winter brewing, particularly in the extreme cold of Northern Japan, was in high demand; 2) laborers needed to be available in Winter, with other arrangements for Spring. From this need, farmers and fishermen in remote villages began to coalesce– traveling and negotiating together for working contracts. Particularly skilled groupings, leadership, and hierarchies formed: ready-to-go brewing forces that could be hired as a unit, named and recognized by their place of origin (Tamba, Tajima, Noto, Nanbu: these are all historic names for regions). The best breweries hired the best toji, inviting them back year to year and paying them well, almost like sports teams.

Certain guilds developed a reputation for certain skills: the Tajima and Tamba toji of northern and inland Hyogo became the most famous guilds of the Edo period for the kimoto brewing, teamwork, and sake quality that led Itami and Nada to fame. On the other token, Tango toji came to be known for menial labor in foot-driven rice polishing in the late 1800s.  A man from Kurauchi, Tango-cho, who went to work at a sake brewery in the Yamato region of Nara around 1886 (Meiji 19), recounted his memories of that time in a few words: "All I had to do was move my feet, and every day from morning until night, the machine would turn white and cost six sen. They said it was a cheap six sen machine."

Entire subcultures arose from these organizations. guilds came up with songs for rhythmic work, then passed these songs down from generation to generation. "Dekansho, dekansho, I'll live for half the year, and sleep for the other half." Other songs lamented the conditions of labor, singing: “"For 100 days, the sake brewer is worse than a beggar. A beggar's bed is a comfortable place to sleep."  When Tango toji brewers returned home after their 100-day stint, it was customary for sake breweries to give them sake and sake lees as souvenirs. So in Ukawa, they would pickle ayu (sweetfish) in the lees, bringing then back to the brewery the following Winter. This gave birth to the local dish ayu kasuzuke, for which Ukawa is now famous.

Famous toji made their mark and gave rise to successors who claimed a shared lineage. Tools, techniques and ingredients were guild secrets: charcoal fining, koji management, rice varieties, persimmon tannin for antibacterial treatment, shape and size of kioke (barrels)-- in a way, everything was proprietary to the guild. Relationships with coopers (barrel makers) and the source of the barrel wood were part of a guild’s reputation and style. Even the snowflake-like shapes carved into wooden steam dispensers at the bottom of the steaming vat were closely guarded guild secrets, their resulting steam pattern being a presumed key to sake quality.

Although brewers were paid well, and the best guilds had exceptional bargaining power and job placement functions, taxes for farmers were incredibly steep. Three-fifths of the rice yield going to landlords (for their fee, and taxes up the chain to daimyo and shogun) was typical; even four-fifths in extreme cases. There’s an argument to be made that as brewers’ earning power rose, taxes rose too. So seasonal labor was in most cases a necessary part of staying alive.

Thus the practice of nyoninkinsei, or banning women from breweries, found its way into the brewing world. During the Winter brewing season workers lived together in tight quarters: sharing beds to sleep, eating and bathing together, drinking sake every night, working side by side for 100 days or more. It’s unsurprising then, that while women were responsible for sake brewing when the average scale was small (ceramic pots, perhaps ~100 liters in capacity), as wooden vats were introduced and scale ramped up to 1000 liter batches, women’s role diminished. The kanzukuri edict intensified this reality: large scale production, close quarters, and the need for someone to remain home to manage the domicile, solidified the roles of men and women. Justifications– that their presence dulled the skills of men, or later, that the goddess of brewing was a woman who would be made jealous by them– came later. But it’s interesting to note that this taboo was enforced on a guild-by-guild basis. In the Tango (northern Kyoto) region in the early Edo period, no such taboo appears to have existed. Women were conscripted by guilds and worked in breweries as well. But 70 miles away in Itami, they were expressly forbidden.

In terms of total membership, Toji guids reached their peak in the late 1960s. Some smaller regional guilds were losing size at this point, but the big ones: Tamba, Tajima, Noto, Echigo and Nanbu, were shaping the world of sake as it approached peak market share in Japan. Brewers today reflect that in the 70s, “if you could make it, you could sell it”-- large breweries like Ozeki and Kenbishi were unable to keep up with demand, so they trained small breweries in their recipes and methods, contracting purchases by the tank. The vast majority of breweries in Japan engaged in tank selling and thus adopted the methods of the brewery they contracted with. In this way, sake’s flavor and style standardized across the board. By the late 1970s, regional distinctiveness was second fiddle to efficiency and scale.

By the mid-20th century bureaucratic sake research institutes such as the Akita Prefectural Research Institute or the National Research Institute of Brewing, were assuming a greater role in educating brewers and standardizing practices as well. Funded by the tremendous tax revenues of the sake boom, the institutes’ resources were considerable and could fund extensive research into fermentation, yeasts, hygiene, packaging, mechanization, and rice varieties. At the same time, modern innovations: microbiology, cultured yeast, sokujo moto (added lactic acid starter method), enamel/stainless steel tanks, and industrial chemicals, were being widely adopted, dramatically reducing the spoilage/failure rate of fermentations. Sake brewing was far less risky, far less skill-based, far less secretive. On the heels of demand, prestigious universities and even high schools introduced fermentation and brewing programs, publishing textbooks and organizing research departments. By the early 1980s sake brewing was standardized, easier, and democratized: a prospective brewer had options. They could enroll with a guild, work at a local research institute, or get a degree, and by now the latter had an appealing air of modernity and efficiency.

But where there is a peak, there is also a trough. By the late 1980s, sake consumption was in rapid decline. 1989 marks the year that shochu (Japanese distilled alcohol) overtook sake in market share. Beer was popular, wine was gaining popularity, and the economy was still strong but just starting to slow down. Suddenly, tank contracts were being canceled, breweries were shutting their doors, and the brands that remained seemed to be in a race to the bottom on price. Guild membership sank in tandem with sake demand, adapting too slowly to the changing times.

While toji guilds were mired in tradition and for the most part kept their heads down, forward-thinking breweries started looking for ways to distinguish themselves in an increasingly competitive marketplace. The “ginjo boom” of the 1980s, the only bright spot in a dark time for sake, originated in 1980 with the launch of Dewazakura Oka, the first aromatic ginjo priced for everyday enjoyment. It was an immediate success and opened up a path forward for sake, but it had nothing to do with a toji guild. Dewazakura was more closely associated with the prefectural research institute and the innovations of the NRIB than with a toji guild. So rather than changing with the times and integrating new techniques and technologies into their repertoire, most guilds continued on as they had been. The operational structure of Dassai, now a world-famous daiginjo brand, came about in the early 90s when a Tajima toji left the brewery. Uninterested in ginjo brewing and believing it was too difficult, expensive and aspirational, the Tajima toji left Dassai, forcing the kuramoto (brewery owner) to figure things out for themselves. This led to a highly scripted, partially mechanized, formulaic and non-heirarchical method for daiginjo brewing that carried Dassai to the top, catapulting the brand from bankruptcy to Japan’s #1 sake brewery in terms of revenue.

Change in traditional Japanese institutions is notoriously slow, but it does happen. Thus we find ourselves in 2024 with an evolving role for toji guilds, and a renewed appreciation for analog, “natural” techniques and practices that are the domain of these historic organizations. Modern trends in sake– wild bacterial starter methods (kimoto, yamahai, bodaimoto), wooden implements such as cedar kioke and kai, old-school Showa-era woodblock labels, Winter brewing/Summer rice farming by the same hands, and community knowledge– harken back to the romance, knowledge and function of guilds.

The Shimotsuke toji guild of Tochigi (est. 2006) is one example of how guilds are being reinterpreted for modern times. Prospective toji are subject to rigorous training and examinations, while continuing education, camaraderie, competitions, and research are among the benefits provided to members. On a business side, guilds are also taking on more administrative and promotional tasks: acting as unions to negotiate benefits and working conditions, regional PR, arranging employment insurance and retirement benefits. There is also evidence that some guilds are once again coalescing around regional styles, in large part due to proprietary yeast and rice varieties developed by prefectural research institutes, waves of popularity surrounding new brews (Nanbu Bijin Tokubetsu Junmai inspiring the new Nanbu toji style), and the adoption of shared values, such as reduced pesticide use in some areas of Fukushima (Aizu Toji) and Okayama (Bicchu Toji).

Facing Hachinohe City, Aomori

Hachinohe Shurui Jyoku Junmai Ginjo “White Bear” Natsuzake (Summer limited seasonal)

The recent history of Hachinohe Shurui is a truly fascinating one which I will save for another time. But for the purpose of August club, Jyoku is an excellent and super-fun example of the modern Nanbu Toji style, which has evolved around a few innovations credited to Nanbu Toji brewers. 

The Nanbu Toji is the largest guild currently operating in Japan, and one of the 3 best organized, with official training courses, accreditation, exams, educational materials, and widely recognized competitions among members. The guild is headquartered in Iwate prefecture and dates back to the early 1600s, being officially registered in the 1900s and maintaining strong membership even to the present day. The far northern region of Iwate is distinct for being extremely snowy, cold, and remote, which translated to a common need for investments in techniques and ingredients suited to this uniquely inhospitable environment. Hanafubuki rice, one of the earliest cold-tolerant varieties bred from the Yamagata heirloom Kamenoo, has along with Gin Ginga and Ginfubuki formed the cornerstone of Yamagata sake brewing. Yeast #10, sampled in Iwate and isolated by the Meiri Shurui Shuzo in Ibaraki, was one of the earliest ginjo yeasts and Hachinohe Shurui brews almost exclusively with this yeast– believing that it was isolated at their brewery in the 1970s (records are not totally definitive). Thus this seasonal brew is made with local Hanafubuki rice grown in Aomori (where the Nanbu Toji guild has deep roots) and the Aomori yeast Mahoroba Jun which Hachinohe Shurui is starting to experiment with. The style is floral and fruity, undiluted genshu, slightly on the dry side, with higher than average acidity. Hachinohe Shurui brews with Kanizawa Fukuryusui, a super clean, high mineral content spring water source located just outside of the city. It’s a delightful, single-pasteurized Summer brew which will keep well into Winter if needed, and an excellent example of the “well defined aroma and sharp finish,” slow fermenting Nanbu style to which Hachinohe Shurui’s toji is officially certified.  

The Brew

• Brewery: Hachinohe Shuzo 八戸酒造
• Location: Hachinohe, Aomori
• Category: Junmai Ginjo Genshu
• Water: Kanizawa Fukuryusui (famed local hard water, trucked in from outside of the city)
• Pasteurizing: Namazume
• Rice: Hanafubuki (local Aomori)
• Polishing: 55%
• Yeast: Aomori yeast “Mahoroba jun”
• ABV: 17%
• SMV: 0
• Acidity: +2

White Bear is a super-fun, medium bodied Summer brew with a very zippy, bright acidity on the palate that lands shortly after you take your first sip. Wintergreen, vanilla, strawberry, cherry heads, with a creamy weight that reminds me of vanilla meringue. A refreshing, charming picnic brew!'

Phillip Harper, Nanbu Toji

Kinoshita Shuzo Tamagawa Junmai Yamahai Nama Genshu “Red Label- Cuvee Sauvage”

While I had hoped for the Summer release of Tamagawa in order to illustrate the enormous differences between two different Nanbu Toji members, It’s enough to share Cuvee Sauvage (an ageable, super-umami namazake that doesn’t need refrigeration) to prove this point. Toji skills and practices can diverge from the guild, especially when you’re working with a wild-fermented brew that is not subject to any temperature control: a key part of Nanbu Toji style.

Toji Philip Harper, still Japan’s only non-Japanese toji, has much to say about management methods being the heart of his role. “While the quality of the grapes is said to determine 80% of the finish of a wine, for sake, the quality of the rice used only determines the outcome by 20% at most. Truly complex processes are required, and microbes must transform the rice into something completely different [rice koji] before fermentation can even begin. To that end, 'calm' is an essential quality for staff, and in no way am I speaking in an abstract sense. Without fail, the sake produced by a brewery with strained interpersonal relations will taste bad."

It’s still hard to see the common thread between Tamagawa and Jyoku. Seeking further clarity, the importer passed my question on to Phillip and summarized the response. “He worked with a Tajima team first, then with two Nanbu bosses and one brewer from Noto. Phillip is a certified member of the Nanbu Toji, however at an event in Japan, Haruo Matsuzaki was asked a similar question to yours and pointing at Phillip answered: “He knows Northern Japan brewing and Southern Japan brewing: he makes Kansai sake”. And as Phillip just texted me: "So that’s the answer. I am one of the last few people making sake in this very unfashionable style.” So simply put there is Nanbu Toji in the technique and management, but that doesn't necessarily show up in the sake as clearly as it might in more classic Nanbu Toji breweries.”

Thanks, Chris and Phillip!

The Brew

• Brewery: Kinoshita Shuzo 木下酒造
• Location: Kyotango, Kyoto
• Category: Junmai Yamahai Nama Genshu
• Water: well (hard, salty)
• Pasteurizing: Namazake (none)
• Rice: Gohyakumangoku (northern Hyogo)
• Polishing: 66%
• Yeast: Ambient
• ABV: ~20%
• SMV: 3.5
• Acidity: +2.9

Sweet nuts on the nose: cashew, cheesecake, brown sugar, nutella, with a twang of ammonia and smoky peat. Compared to the aroma, the blockbuster palate knocks you off your socks! Powerfully savory, salty, and dynamically different cereal/savory/toasted notes than anything else you've ever had. Rather than a simple list of flavors, Red Label evokes an entire dish, a mood, a memory...I recall buckwheat groats shallow frying in butter...toasted wild rice, or 12 grain pancakes... it’s heady, intoxicating, wildly evocative. Enjoy some, let the rest sit and evolve with oxygen and time. So the saying goes, “the last glass from a bottle of Tamagawa is always better than the first.”

The team preparing kimoto for kioke-fermented sake

Sakai Shuzo Gokyo Junmai Kimoto Chokarakuchi “5 Red”

Because Tamagawa sake, particularly Red Label, can be quite divisive…and because the exclusivity of our club offers is such a special part of them! We have a limited number (9 bottles) of Gokyo Red Label available as an alternative to Tamagawa. An email already went out offering Tamagawa or Gokyo as the second sake, so if you haven’t yet laid claim to one or another…jump in!

Compared to Tamagawa, Gokyo is a much more subtle interpretation of savory sake and in their own way, representative of the “new school” of Otsu Toji in Yamaguchi, southern Japan. Yamaguchi is a truly fascinating place…a political heavyweight, several influential families, top cabinet members and even prime ministers were born in Yamaguchi, plus the darling of modern daiginjo, Dassai. The phenomenal ceramic artists of Hagi have developed a unique bubbly, chunky, yet elegant style that might make it my favorite kiln. And the Otsu Toji, headquartered on the northern coast close to Hagi, benefit from the incredibly productive and sunny rice fields, limestone terroir, and ultra-soft water that flows generously beneath the ground. This wasn’t always the case, but to me the rounder, softer, “riper” flavor profile of Yamaguchi sake makes sense given the agricultural bounty and gorgeous climate.

We might be concerned about the future of the 33-member (as of 2019) Otsu Toji if it weren’t such a hotbed for innovation and activity. The toji of Gokyo and the leader of the Otsu Toji, is respected throughout Japan for the steps they’ve taken to expand kimoto brewing, rice and yeast varieties, super low polish (Ride? Is 96% polishing– almost brown rice!), plus farming (Gokyo grows ~20% of their own needs) and product R&D. Fellow Otsu Toji Takahiro Nagayama, maker of Taka “Noble Arrow,” is pushing the terroir conversation forward, releasing single vintage, paddy, and rice variety bottlings that take advantage of the limestone-rich soil of his rice fields and water source. While they don’t belong to the Otsu Toji guild, neighbors Ohmine, Tenbi and Dassai help build the reputation of Yamaguchi. The regional style– aromatic, fruity, juicy, a touch sweet– isn’t necessarily reflected in Gokyo Red, but the innovative spirit of the Otsu Toji is.

Sakai Shuzo, Makers of Gokyo

Founded in 1871, Sakai Shuzo has been brewing in the same location by the Nishiki River (its Kintai bridge is the namesake of Gokyo brand) for 150 years. The brewery is staffed exclusively by Yamaguchi natives, uses locally sourced rice and soft well water, kioke barrels made from local trees, and even distilled alcohol (for futsushu) made from local rice– Sakai is Yamaguchi jizake (locals’ sake) through and through. President Sakai Hideki says, “Everything that we are, everything that we have, comes from the local community. They are our customers, and our suppliers. We make the best we can for them, and they repay us by buying and enjoying our sake.” And in a prefecture known for breweries that reach global audiences, Sakai is proud to sell the vast majority of their product to the local market. So it is that only one case of Gokyo Red came to Portland.

Gokyo 5 Red

• Sakai Shuzo, 酒井酒造
• Location: Yamaguchi Prefecture
• Rice: Yamadanishiki & Nihonbare (Yamaguchi)
• Polish: 60%
• Yeast: 901
• SMV: +11.5
• Acidity: 1.6
• ABV: 15%
• Water: super-soft subsoil water

The Gokyo 5 series are expressions of sake brewed in kioke: that is, traditional large wooden barrels of 1-5000 L capacity, made from local sugi (cryptomeria) wood. Utilized for >100 years in some cases, kioke don’t usually confer wood flavors (as in oak barrels), but do add unique character by hosting a microbial population in the pores of the wood & supplying oxygen during the fermentation. Kioke-fermented sake is said to be mellow and gentle, and heats well. By preparing Red with the ~350 year old kimoto method (wild bacteria create acidity at closely-managed cold temperatures) and brewing to dryness (+11.5 SMV!) we have an example of a sake with subtle textural complexity and rice-driven flavors. It’s delicious at room temperature, refreshing with a light chill, and positively stunning with a light warming (in Asia, it’s common knowledge that hot drinks cool you down by the way!) 

I recommend opening the bottle soon after receiving and letting the bottle get some air while resting in the fridge. In my experience my bottle of Gokyo Red was closed off and tight at first, but by the time I was finishing it up two weeks later I couldn’t get enough.