Malt and Hops – The Gold

Japanese: 麦とホップ（ザ・ゴールド） (mugi to HOPPU [ZA GOORUDO])

Brewery: Sapporo

Style: Happoushu

ABV: 5%

Price: 134円

Strapline: “Rich taste is produced by carefully-selected high quality barley and hops.”

I hope this doesn’t ruin my enjoyment of the usual Sapporo Draught. The hint of extra bitterness which set that one apart from the other beers is quite clearly also present in this happoushu. Unlike the Sapporo Draught, this bitterness is dreadfully balanced against the amber water it’s been mixed with. The intial taste tastes like a bad aftertaste. The aftertaste tastes like the taste in your mouth after a night of boozing.

This is why I’m worried about it spoiling my enjoyment of Sapporo Draught, which I quite like. I don’t want to be reminded of this every time I open a can of the normal stuff. I shan’t be buying this again.

It’s still better than the Asahi Clear though.

Kirin Lager Beer

Japanese: キリンラガービール (KIRIN RAGAA BIIRU)

Brewery: Kirin

Style: Lager beer

ABV: 5%

Price: 207円

Strapline: “The legendary KIRIN is a symbol of “Good Luck.” Open up KIRIN today, and you’ll see what it is all about”

I need to apologise for misleading you in my entry on Kirin Classic. It seems that the standard, everyday Kirin product is not that one, but this one – Kirin Lager Beer. Hence the explanation of what a Kirin (or ‘KIRIN’) actually is. The can promised that opening it up would allow me to ‘see what it is all about’. Amazingly enough this turned out to be true. I flicked the ring pull up and instead of the hiss of carbon dioxide escaping, I was treated to the unmistakable whistle of flutes and the banging of taiko drums. The ground beneath me began to shake and a crack appeared in the floor at my feet. I heard the deepest, loudest rumble I have ever heard. It grew and grew, drowning out the music, until all of a sudden the walls of my house collapsed inwards, consumed by the fissure that had now become a vast abyss, swallowing the street and distant buildings. Out of the depths a mountain emerged, thrust upwards with the abrupt violence of a treacherous knife to the belly. I was thrown to the ground as the world behind me dropped away. I was at the top of the mountain. Lying face-down I felt the cold caress of snowflakes landing in my hair. The rumbling had stopped and the flutes had returned. I rolled over and sat up. Below me, all the way to the horizon, rippled a white ocean. I shivered in the cold. A tiny movement in the distance caught my eye. It seemed to move very slowly upwards, growing in size. It slowed and began descending in an arc – at least a mile long – down towards me. I saw a magnificent grin, a single horn, a scaly hide and a shaggy mane. The creature was twice my size and bellowed a laugh which echoed around the rocks above the precipice. As its hoofed feet touched the ground there was a terrible fluttering commotion by my left ear. I caught sight of a hawk diving out of my peripheral vision. I suddenly realised that I was holding an aubergine in my right hand. The kirin (for that was the only thing the monstrous creature could have been) continued laughing and then shouted the word “HATSUYUME!” in a booming voice, causing avalanches on distant slopes. It flicked its tail, bent its forelegs in a deep bow and then offered me a single wish for the new year.

And all I could think of was “I wish this was as good as the Kirin Classic.”

Rich Malt

Japanese: 金麦 (kinmugi)

Brewery: Suntory

Style: Happoushu

ABV: 5%

Price: 134円

Strapline: “Enjoy rich taste in relaxing time.”

Back to happoushu. After my last experience I was very, very wary. This appears to be Suntory’s major offering. To my surprise I saw it being sold in packs of six – something usually reserved for the popular, mainstay beers. I felt a bit more optimistic – surely there must be some sort of demand for this stuff if they’re willing to go to that effort, I thought.

And – maybe there is. It’s certainly an upgrade from the Clear Asahi. In fact I would say that if I didn’t know that this was happoushu, it could possibly pass for poor-to-average corporate beer. True, it has a slightly sour aftertaste, but the rest of the flavour really isn’t that offensive. The malts are upper-middle class at best, but they do at least know what quinoa is and are considering double-barrelling their names when they get married.

I came away feeling pretty positive. So much so in fact that, as I got further into the month – and much further into my bank balance – the cheap pack of six looked ever more appealling. Eventually I cracked and swallowed my pride in big, satisfying gulps on a Friday in front of the television; all six in a row and no regrets.

Perhaps my expectations of happoushu are set too low, but I confess I enjoyed this drink. The 75p a can barely registers as a toll on the road to ruin and I doubt that many Brits would even realise that it’s only kind-of-sort-of-nearly-beer, given the paint-thinner they normally drink.

If the rest of the happoushu is like this then my budget adventures won’t be too traumatic, but I daren’t be naive, especially from what I’ve seen of some of the labels. At least I know that my eventual destitution will be mitigated by a soft, welcoming, six-pack pillow of Rich Malt.

Wednesday’s Cat

Japanese: 水曜日のネコ (suiyoubi no neko)

Brewery: Yo-Ho Brewing Company

Style: Wheat beer

ABV: 5%

Price: 267円

Strapline: “BELGIAN WHITE BEER STYLE”

Now for something completely different. It’s a treat to help us through the dark days of happoushu. Yo-Ho is an American-inspired craft brewery which has managed to get its produce into the convenience store refrigerators. The can is instantly appealing, even if the charming chap on the front seems to have a rather serpentine body. The beer itself is only slightly opaque compared to a European wheat beer, but the aroma is very inviting. And the taste is confirmation – this is good beer.

Compared to the gallons of bitter and lager that have passed through my system, I am a relative amateur when it comes to wheat beers. They’re not difficult to find in the UK, but it just doesn’t occur to most Brits to order them, except as a slight novelty. My old workplace was unusual in having Hoegaarden, Erdinger and Franziskaner on draught, but most of those carefully-poured glasses were purchased by German, Dutch and Belgian students, rather than the locals. Compared to these beers, the Cat is quite mild in flavour. I suspect the recipe is designed to appeal to Japanese lager-drinkers.

It’s hugely encouraging to me that I was able to buy beer from a non-Big-Four brewery at all. Not only that, but the style is interesting and the flavour is very pleasant. Of course, it costs almost exactly twice as much as a can of happoushu, but it’s totally worth it. If the trendy, overpriced Japanese restaurants in London don’t have a few cases of this in for the beer fanatics then they’re missing an opportunity. The appeal of unsual, foreign beers combined with the aesthetics of the packaging would easily negate any criticisms that this beer is “not quite as good” as its European cousins. It comfortably makes it onto my list of regular drinks in Japan.

Clear Asahi

Japanese: クリアアサヒ (KURIA ASAHI)

Brewery: Asahi

Style: Happoushu lager

ABV: 5%

Price: 134円

Strapline: “Brewed from quality ingredients by using our pure cultured yeast and our advanced brewing techniques.”

So we begin. Note the price difference. I don’t know how they make this, so I have no choice but to speculate. I’m reminded of the whiff you get from cold rice that’s become a starchy mess in the bottom of a cooking pot when you’ve forgotten to wash up the night before. Perhaps resourceful Asahi has found a use for this waste product – tipping some yeast in, replacing the lid and forgetting about it again.

I suspect the reality is worse.

It’s not undrinkable. It’s just that it doesn’t really taste of anything. And since I’m not Heidegger, I am incapable of writing book-length discussions of Nothing. It’s better than bleach but not as good as old tea. Look elsewhere.

An Introduction to Happoushu

Before we continue, I need to give you a brief explanation of Japanese alcohol law. I have hinted that we were focusing on standard, mid-priced beer to begin with and that there were other, premium varieties available. Happily this is true, and I look forward to sampling some of the finer things as we go up in the world.

Equally there is a steep drop in price with the budget options available to us. Japanese law only classes a product as beer if it is at least half fermented malt. Products containing less than this are classed as happoushu and are taxed less as a result. On the lowest level are those which use a complete substitute, often being subsequently fortified with a malt spirit. Essentially for all these non-beers, the breweries come up with ever-more elaborate ways get round the tax rules while still producing something drinkable. They end up costing so much less than ‘real’ beer, that even the purist starts to get curious and learns to ignore the ingredients (pea protein, anyone?), so we can’t ignore them.

If it weren’t for the arbitrary classification of alcohol in Japanese law, none of these bizarre drinks would exist. Maybe none of them should. Fortunately for the Japanese brewers, the current isolationist policies of CAMRA make overseas operations unlikely in the foreseeable future. In any event, common ground and eventually a truce could probably be made based solely on the fact that Japanese law also does not class plenty of American import ‘beers’ as ‘beer’ at all.

Sapporo Draught

Japanese: サッポロ生ビール黒ラベル (SAPPORO nama BIIRU kuro RABERU – Sapporo draught beer black label)

Brewery: Sapporo

Style: Lager

ABV: 5%

Price: 207円

Strapline: “The taste you will always enjoy,Sapporo draft beer gives you the relaxing and refreshing quality malt and hops. This is the beer that’s great for your good times.” [sic]

There is something distinctly Other about Sapporo. It starts with the can, which is decorated in brutalist, almost Cold War style iconography. A golden star on a black roundel, the single word “SAPPORO” with the kanji for ‘fresh’ (‘draught’ in the context of beer) looming underneath, also in gold – all on a field of white.

It’s a lager – true enough – but it is noticeably more bitter than the flagship beers of the other breweries. I am transported by the flavour to the mysterious northern city of the same name in the beautiful frozen waste of Hokkaido. I soar over the ocean and see the mountains emerge from the deep. In the summer they will erupt in green, red and purple. But it’s winter now and the snow is their lord. Below me, in the distance, I can begin to pick out the shimmering lights of Sapporo, resisting the dominion of ice. I glide closer and can see houses and people, hear the music. It beckons, and I drop further, ready to enter. I’m coming home. But as my feet are about to touch the ground the doorbell rings, my eyes open and I am back in Osaka. And it’s the bloody NHK man at the door demanding I cough up 2,000円 for my TV licence fee.

Of course, I’ve never actually been to Hokkaido, so all of the above is sheer speculation. Apart from the NHK man. That’s true. Persistent buggers too. Then again, I suppose it’s a good price for the sheer volume of bizarre that you get pumped into your living-room every evening.

To return to the point, the flavour is pretty good, especially if you are a fan of a more bitter style. For some strange reason I have consistently failed to get a good head to form and stay formed when I pour this beer, but I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt and take responsibility for my inept pouring. It was a good way to conclude my survey of the main products of each brewery. It may be my favourite of the four (though the race is closely run), but perhaps that’s just because when I drink it I close my eyes and imagine Hokkaido.

The Premium Malts

Japanese: ザ・プレミアム・モルツ (ZA PUREMIAMU MORUTSU)

Brewery: Suntory

Style: Pilsener

ABV: 5.5%

Price: 227円

Strapline: “A premium pilsener beer, brewed with selected ingredients and pride.”

I wanted to start this blog with the flagship products of each of the major breweries in Japan for the sake of a useful comparison. There is no doubt that I would have got round to this one sooner rather than later since the name is drilled into my skull daily on the television. The advert annoyingly (and cleverly) repeats “ZA PUREMIAMU MORUTSU” over and over. In a Japanese accent it is a reasonable approximation of the name in English, but luckily I am immune to such advertising tricks.

On the other hand I nearly left it, expecting there to be a more obvious “SUNTORY NUMBER ONE” or something. Actually ZA PUREMIAMU MORUTSU seems to be their classic beer – it is certainly the most widespread. ZA PUREMIAMU MORUTSU is another beer originating in Osaka (notice the pattern) but it is very different from it’s equivalents elsewhere. For a start, ZA PUREMIAMU MORUTSU costs a little more, which might reflect a higher – or extant – barley content, as opposed to a rice-based beer. This is turn leads to a richer flavour. A can of ZA PUREMIAMU MORUTSU is clearly designed to suggest 20円 worth of opulent extravagance with its gold and blue colour scheme and ZA PUREMIAMU MORUTSU obviously occupies a different niche in the market, being more expensive than other standard offerings but cheaper than the usual “premium” products, in spite of the name ZA PUREMIAMU MORUTSU.

To check whether I was being drawn in by the marketing of ZA PUREMIAMU MORUTSU I conducted extra side-by-side tastings (all for you, dear reader) but had to conclude that the taste is indeed actually better than the other, cheaper beers. Does this mean you should drink ZA PUREMIAMU MORUTSU instead? Not necessarily. If you’re on a budget, 20円 each time does add up after a while. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves – there are still so many more beers to try besides ZA PUREMIAMU MORUTSU before we can reach any kind of conclusion about the best or worst.

Asahi Super Dry

Japanese: アサヒスーパードライ　（辛口） (ASAHI SUUPAA DORAI [ karakuchi (“dry taste”) ] )

Brewery: Asahi

Style: Dry lager

ABV: 5%

Price: 207円

Strapline: “Asahi Super Dry is brewed using carefully selected yeast and ingredients utilising advanced brewing techniques. Enjoy the taste and silky smoothness of Asahi Super Dry!”

This is a product which has made it all the way to the UK, where it can often be seen on supermarket shelves alongside the Tsingtao, Cobra and Tiger – its value (and absurd price) deriving from the association with its exotic country of origin. Having said that, it is not a beer which should be dismissed as a gimmick. In Japan (and in Osaka particularly) it is totally ubiquitous. One of the easiest ways for a foreigner, who can’t read kanji, to identify a bar at a distance is the inevitable poster outside advertising that their Asahi Super Dry is only 500円. Like Carlsberg or Fosters in the UK, no-one goes out of their way to seek the rare flavour of Asahi – it’s everywhere. Unlike Carlsberg and Fosters, it’s not a terrible beer.

The taste certainly is dry. Not bone dry, but noticeably different from the Kirin Classic. UK residents may notice in the name a strange similarity with a popular clothing brand. SuperDry clothes are, of course, British. The nonsensical Japanese they are adorned with is apparently a clever joke at the expense of the Engrish you see on Japanese clothes. Though it pains me to say it of a large corporation – especially one in the fashion industry – it’s a pretty good joke. Well done. Even better considering that most people wearing it don’t realise that the language is mangled, or if they do they don’t understand why. Everyone has seen the pictures (if not, just google ‘engrish’) so the only example I’ll give is that on my very first day in Japan I saw a lady wearing a T-shirt urging people to “SAVE MORE FOODS.” SuperDry simply parodies this.

Nevertheless, in spite of the Japanese-style branding, SuperDry clothes have nothing to do with Asahi, other than what I believe is an ongoing legal dispute over that very name (hint: the beer is older). To return to the point: it’s a dry lager with a pleasant colour and a reasonable, if rather typical flavour. If you like lager then buy one when it’s on offer in your local supermarket. Don’t expect new worlds of taste to be revealed though.

Please also note the Hanshin Tigers sponsorship emblem. There was no bias in this entry.

フレ！！フレ！フレ！フレー！Go! Go go go!

Kirin Classic

Japanese: キリンクラシックラガー　(KIRIN KURASIKKU RAGER)

Brewery: Kirin

Style: Lager

ABV: 4.5%

Price: 207円

Strapline: “A time-honored recipe that delivers a rich, full-bodied lager”

Sometimes, in Japan, archetypal products are valued beyond the properties they possess in themselves. There is a gentleman who runs a new, but very excellent British pub in the centre of Osaka. He told me that the variety on the menu is mostly for the benefit of expats, since the Japanese who come in will inevitably order Fish and Chips. Of course it could be that the humble fillet of battered white fish and its accompaniment of chips, peas and palpitations fulfills some unrecognized longing in the Japanese psyche – except that it’s not just fish and chips that this applies to. It’s pictures, routines, turns of phrase – a mountain of trivial things.

Of course Brits (and probably people in every country) do this too –

“A British pub? Well I’ve just got to have fish and chips!”

“A curry house? Well I’ve just got to have a chicken tikka masala!” (Alternatively: “Well I’ve just got to have a phall”)

And thus we begin, Japanese style, with the archetypal Kirin Classic. The dirty, off-white colour scheme of the can and the style of the writing suggest a long history. Somewhat surprisingly this does turn out to be the case – Kirin is over a hundred years old. The handsome fellow at the top is in fact a kirin, a creature of East Asian mythology. Imagine a magical, scaly dog-unicorn. Yep.

Just as I can’t dispute “time-honored”, it’s also fair to call this a “rich, full bodied lager”. It’s not too malty, but also not too sweet or gassy. Given the American influence on Japanese culture since the war, one almost expects to be buying Budweiser-with-a-dragon-on-the-front, but in fact the taste has more in common with true German lagers.

I’d like to believe that the recipe really hasn’t changed since 1888. It’s really not a bad beer. In fact, part of the reason for beginning with it is that it stands (alongside its Sapporo, Suntory and Asahi counterparts) as a good yardstick against which to measure the other convenience store offerings. Good head retention and a pleasing flavour. Strangely for a lager, it tastes like it ought to cause a terrible blocked-neurone hangover – but of course it doesn’t. I will drink this again, though perhaps it won’t be my regular beer.