On a sunny afternoon in March, the view from the boardwalk overlooking the bay of Kesennuma is a tranquil and resplendent monochrome of blues: A line of green separates the azure sky from the glittering sapphire of the sea. A gust of crisp air blows off the water, prompting passersby to pull their collars tight, while customers sitting outside at a waterfront café wrap themselves in fleece blankets provided by the shop. In this fishing town along Japan’s Pacific Coast, five-and-a-half hours by train from Tokyo in the northern prefecture of Miyagi, a jingle reverberates throughout the harbor district at 6 a.m., heralding the start of the day. At 9 p.m., a chime accompanies a loudspeaker announcement reminding residents to turn off the gas before going to bed.
It’s easy to understand the appeal of Kesennuma, which got its start as a gold-mining town in the 12th century before rising to prominence as one of the country’s largest ports for swordfish and bonito—an essential ingredient for the katsuobushi dried fish flakes used to make the dashi broth that forms the cornerstone of Japanese cuisine.
Otokoyama Honten Sake Brewery overlooks the town from a hilltop situated 10 minutes away from the bay. The Sugawara family has been making award-winning brews in the same spot ever since the company was founded in 1912. A faded, sand-colored façade conceals the main brewing facility, which is housed in a Meiji-era structure that once served as a miso and soy sauce factory. Built in the 1930s and used as a family residence after World War II, a visitor center with a ceramic-tiled roof and lattice framework stands in front of the brewery.
Over the years, Otokoyama Honten has withstood more than its fair share of travails—including a blaze that devastated the community in 1926, in addition to the constant peril of living in close proximity to the sea. Like most of the inhabitants of the area, the Sugawara family had witnessed fires and floods and were well-versed in emergency preparedness.
No one, however, could have anticipated the scale of destruction wrought by the Great East Japan Earthquake disaster. Ten years ago, on March 11, 2011, an earthquake measuring 9.0 on the Richter scale rocked the Tohoku region of northeastern Japan. The quake was followed by a tsunami of unprecedented magnitude that inundated the low-lying coastal districts, crushing all of the structures in its wake. Otokoyama Honten’s former headquarters—located a mere three minutes’ walk from the brewery in a building originally constructed in 1932—was one of the historic landmarks felled by tidal waves measuring up to 22 feet high.
Otokoyama Honten’s fourth-generation president, Akihiko Sugawara, has the air of an elder statesman, with salt-and-pepper hair and thick, expressive eyebrows that hint at a decisive personality. He runs the business with the help of his son, Hiroki, who will succeed him in the future. Akihiko wears a stoic expression as he recounts the tale of the catastrophe that nearly robbed him of his livelihood—and his life.
“I was inside our headquarters when the earthquake hit,” he recalls when we meet at Otokoyama Honten’s visitor center. “In fact, the building wasn’t harmed by the earthquake, only by the tsunami. Immediately after, I was able to escape and took shelter in the brewery. It was 2:46 p.m.”
“The brewery itself is on slightly higher ground, so fortunately the building wasn’t damaged. But we could see the tsunami from here. The water line came within 10 meters [33 feet] of the door,” Hiroki explains.
Luckily, Otokoyama Honten’s employees, who were working in the brewery at the time, were all safe, although some suffered tragic losses. “It was a terrible shock,” Akihiko says quietly. “Some of our staff’s family members were taken by the tsunami, their homes swept away.”
Within only a few minutes, the once-lively Kesennuma lay in ruins. The ground was strewn with the debris of smashed cars and shattered buildings. A ship pulled in by the tidal wave sat stranded on dry land in the middle of the town like a beached whale.
“I was inside our headquarters when the earthquake hit. In fact, the building wasn’t harmed by the earthquake, only by the tsunami. Immediately after, I was able to escape and took shelter in the brewery. It was 2:46 p.m.”
When the Sugawaras inspected the brewery, however, they realized that the two tanks containing the season’s final batches of mash were still intact. After having lost so much, Akihiko and the staff were determined to press on. Otokoyama Honten resumed brewing on March 12.
“We were so lucky that the sake wasn’t affected. Contrary to our expectations, not a single tank had tipped over during the quake. We knew we had to finish the last batch, but there was no electricity, gas, or water,” he says. In fact, the town remained without energy or running water until the beginning of April. “People from the areas around Kesennuma who had heard about our situation sent us a generator and supplied us with electricity so that we could restart the brewing process. We feel so much gratitude to the local people—many of whom had lost their own homes in the tsunami, but nonetheless rallied together to support us. They wanted us to keep brewing to communicate to the world that the people in Kesennuma were OK and hanging in there, and this gave us the strength to forge ahead.”
Ten days later, the production staff started to press the first batch of the remaining sake, but they soon encountered another obstacle: The warehouse where the company had stored all of its bottles had been washed out to sea.
“We’d made the sake but there were no bottles to put it in—no labels, no boxes, nothing. That problem was not easy to solve, so we went on TV to tell our story,” Hiroki says.
Soon, people from all over the country began sending bottles and shipping supplies to Kesennuma. Once again, the brewery was saved by strangers who looked to Otokoyama Honten as a symbol of hope and resilience. Large vehicles couldn’t run on the mangled roads, so the company relied on small trucks and delivery services to send out the sake in early April. Turning water into wine might have been an easier feat.
As we walk through the brewery, Hiroki explains that operations are on hiatus for a month. Like many of Japan’s sake producers this year, the company has reduced production by around 20%, and made adjustments to the brewing schedule due to the COVID-19 pandemic. Today, the machines for washing and cooling rice are idle; the massive vat for steaming rice is empty. The only sounds come from a worker’s mop as he cleans the room where the batches of finished sake await bottling, stored in 1,800-liter (15.33-barrel) tanks behind thick metal doors that harken back to the building’s former life as a miso factory. Near the entrance, a small altar festooned with white paper streamers used in Shinto rituals displays a miniature replica of the Matsuo Taisha shrine in Kyoto, where sake makers have prayed for prosperity since ancient times. Almost every brewery has an altar that workers bow before each morning to express gratitude and hope for a successful brewing season.
Rice is at the heart of the complex sake-brewing process. At Otokoyama Honten, the grains, which are polished to remove the outer layers, are first washed and soaked to adjust moisture content before steaming. Steamed rice is then cooled on a conveyor belt, and a portion is inoculated with Aspergillus oryzae to produce the enzymatic catalyst koji—a process that takes around two days. Koji is mixed with water, more steamed rice, lactic acid and yeast to make a yeast starter. Additions of fresh koji, steamed rice, and water are added over the course of four days, creating a mash that is allowed to ferment for three to four weeks, depending on the style of sake.
What sets the brewery apart is its hyper-local ethos: While most producers purchase rice—an agricultural product that, unlike wine grapes, can be easily stored and shipped—from various regions around Japan, 80% of the rice used by Otokoyama Honten comes from Miyagi Prefecture, and a small portion is even grown here in Kesennuma. The brewery uses soft local spring water and sources regional varieties of yeast from the Miyagi Sake Brewers’ Association.
Today, the brewery produces three brands, with several products in each line-up: their flagship Otokoyama, which translates literally as “man mountain”; the more refined and higher-end Sotenden, whose name evokes the blue of the sky and sea that defines the Kesennuma coast; and premium Biroku, seasonal brews that feature strikingly modern, minimalist labels. Beloved by locals throughout the brewery’s 109-year history, Otokoyama Honten’s eponymous brand—made exclusively with locally grown rice—is an extremely dry, taut style that harmonizes with a range of rustic seafood dishes. Sotenden brews are elegant and crisp, with fruity notes and hints of briny ocean air. The Biroku line is the brewery’s most exuberant and experimental, made with different rice strains such as organic Sasanishiki, a table rice that was first developed in Miyagi Prefecture and is frequently used at sushi restaurants. The smooth-textured, slightly sweet Biroku brews are released only four times a year to correspond to Japan’s four seasons.
Although each product line exhibits a different flavor profile, all of the brews deliver a dry, clean finish that evaporates quickly from the palate. That characteristic stems in part from Otokoyama Honten’s extensive use of Kura no Hana rice, a hard-grained local variety that contains low levels of amino acids and produces a lighter-bodied style.
“Sake is part of our culture, and that includes the seafood that Kesennuma is famous for, as well as the people.”
“It’s likely we will have to purchase less rice for the next brewing season, but we won’t decrease the amount we buy from local farmers,” Akihiko says. “We’ll simply reduce orders from large national cooperatives.”
The commitment to local ingredients reflects the brewery’s philosophy of regionality. “Sake is part of our culture, and that includes the seafood that Kesennuma is famous for, as well as the people,” Hiroki says.
A soft-spoken 29-year-old with a boyish smile, Hiroki is next in line to take over the family business. Fluent in English, he’s in charge of overseas sales and leads tours of the brewery for non-Japanese speakers. However, when he was growing up, he had no plans to follow in his father’s footsteps. He’d studied law at a university in Hokkaido, and had worked in hospitality, but was unsure of his future career path.
All of that changed after 2011. Upon graduating, Hiroki returned to his hometown and joined the brewery. “During the earthquake and tsunami disaster, the people [of this area] sacrificed so much to support us,” he says. “They believed in us, and I want to give them something back.”
Judging from the numerous awards that the brews have garnered, the community has much to be proud of. In 2018, Sotenden Daiginjo, the Sotenden brand’s top-of-the-line sake, scooped up gold medals at national competitions such as The Fine Sake Awards Japan and Annual Japan Sake Awards. In 2019, the same brew took the Miyagi Daiginjo Trophy at London’s International Wine Challenge, and Biroku Junmai Daiginjo won a platinum prize at France’s Kura Master competition.
Most of the sake that Otokoyama Honten produces is consumed domestically, but the company has been slowly expanding overseas. Otokoyama Honten recently started exporting to the U.S. and is gaining followers in markets such as Hong Kong, where its brews are carried by the popular online retailer Saketora. Akihiko Sugawara has also done promotional events at the buzzy retail and bar space Sake Central, run by beverage consultant Elliot Faber, who was named a Sake Samurai by the Japan Sake Brewers Association Junior Council in 2016.
Faber describes the Sotenden line as “elegant and very clean,” noting that its fruity-but-dry style “would be good for the international market.” There are, however, other producers that also sell sake under the name Otokoyama—for example, Senryo Otokoyama from Iwate Prefecture and Otokoyama from Hokkaido Prefecture—and Faber stresses the need for the company to distinguish itself.
“They have an amazing backstory, and getting that story told is very important,” he says. “I always encourage brewers to do more work internationally. Just going overseas isn’t enough; it’s about the way you market your products.”
In the decade following the earthquake catastrophe, the enterprising residents of Kesennuma have worked to rebuild their community. The land in the port district has been elevated by about 10 feet and new businesses have opened, although wide patches of the town remain vacant. Wandering from the Otokoyama Honten brewery to the waterfront, I feel as though I’m walking through a life-sized nautical map from the Middle Ages, when landmarks were rendered in lush detail against the vague outline of continents in the background. New developments—like a cluster of eateries and cafes along the harbor, and a scattered handful of reconstructed historical buildings—stand out in sharp relief against the landscape.
As the town recovered, the Sugawaras wondered what to do with the remains of the company’s former headquarters. The bottom two floors of the three-story building had collapsed, but the top floor was left largely intact. After clearing the rubble, the site remained untouched until 2016, when the top floor was dismantled and put into storage. In 2019, the Sugawara family embarked on a reconstruction of the building with support from the community and the help of global foundations, including the New-York-based nonprofit World Monuments Fund. The work was completed last year, and the building—which has been registered as a Tangible Cultural Property, along with the Otokoyama Honten visitor center—stands once again in its original location. The pebbled surface of the gray stone walls has been painstakingly restored and the carvings that adorn the frieze have been preserved. Near the top of the building, the gold kanji characters for “Otokoyama” glint in the sun.
“Sake is a traditional product, but the craft beer community is new and exciting. We’d like people to come and enjoy our great seafood with both of these locally produced drinks.”
As chairman of Kesennuma’s Chamber of Commerce and Industry, Akihiko Sugawara has been instrumental in the area’s redevelopment, helping to plan urban revitalization projects and acting as a de facto ambassador for inbound tourism. One of the most recent projects he helped launch, a craft beer producer called Black Tide Brewing, aims to create a “community of brewing” to bring together local sake and beer lovers. Co-founded with beer importer Eiichi Aoki and American brewer James Watney, Black Tide is housed in a new industrial complex close to the harbor and features a small taproom that adjoins a bustling seafood market. With a concrete counter illuminated by dangling Edison bulbs and a chalkboard covered with Black Tide’s seasonal offerings, the bar looks like a hipster watering hole, but with gaggles of grandmas sipping pints alongside bearded young men in beanies.
“No one would think that a place like this could exist in Kesennuma. The only difficult thing is that the beer is so much more popular than our sake,” Akihiko says with a laugh. “Sake is a traditional product, but the craft beer community is new and exciting. We’d like people to come and enjoy our great seafood with both of these locally produced drinks. We have a lot to offer, and we want everyone to know that there’s more to Kesennuma than the sad history of the tsunami.”
A native of Washington State, Watney relocated to Japan from Portland, Oregon, where he was working as a chemist at a software company. An avid homebrewer, he’d been making beer for 10 years and contemplating a career change when Aoki approached him with the idea of launching a brewery in Kesennuma. After flying to Japan and meeting Akihiko, Watney was sold.
“He’s a very special person, and you immediately get the sense that he has a vision for the city,” Watney says. “The town is looking to the future and wants to build something more sustainable. We are here to be a part of that.”
When he moved to Kesennuma, Watney spent a month living in the Otokoyama Honten dormitory for employees and working at the brewery while construction took place on the Black Tide facility. He fondly recalls the time he spent in the special room where steamed rice is inoculated with Aspergillus oryzae to form koji.
“All of the magic happens there. It’s unlike anything we do in the beer world,” he says.
The experience prompted Watney to create limited-edition beer-sake hybrids in collaboration with Otokoyama Honten. Azure Mist is a Hazy IPA-style beer with a dry, hoppy flavor, while Azure Wind is a Lager brewed with a mix of German yeast and sake yeast from Miyagi Prefecture. Both are made by adding steamed sake rice to the fermentation tank along with wort and amazake, a thick fermented rice drink. Because of the lower level of hops in Azure Wind, the resulting beer has a sake-like flavor. “The aroma reminded me of walking back into Otokoyama Honten,” Watney says with a smile.
Several weeks after my trip to Kesennuma, I pour myself a glass of Sotenden Junmai Ginjo, one of the most popular sakes in the Sotenden line, at my apartment in Tokyo. There’s banana on the nose, along with bright green aromas that recall the exuberance of spring. The sake is fresh and fruity on the palate, with notes of Asian pear and juicy acidity. The sweetness gives way to a dry finish with hints of rice and a touch of balanced bitterness. Each sip conjures a memory—of the sea and the sun and the impossibly blue sky, the wind that catches your breath, and oysters so big you have to eat them in two bites. It may be a while before I make it back up there, but for the moment, it doesn’t feel so far away.
Words by Melinda JoePhotos by David Woo
