Though ‘Jikon’ is often translated to carpe diem the term in fact intends, as was explained to me recently, the preciser seizing of each passing moment. 'Jikon' aims at radical self-presence absent any mental distraction: be here now.
Brewmaster Tada Onishi muttered this one-word mantra to himself incessantly in the first years after taking over his family business in 2003. He couldn’t afford employees (as in any) and quickly surmised that financial and aesthetic survival relied upon moment-to-moment intentionality. These years later, many of them post superstardom, precision remains the Jikon watchword.
There are simply never enough bottles to go around. Burgundy lovers among us know how often ‘peak artisanality' and ‘minuscule quantities’ follow one another and the same is true here. Jikon’s top sakes smell and feel handmade, and they are.
Soft water from the Nabari River, a little discussed stylistic input, imprints permanently across the range. True enough that Onishi purposes much of the River's texture toward refined ends, though an essential suppleness remains. You note this in the round, chestnut generosity of ‘Hattan Nishiki.’ And even ‘Omachi,’ which lives at the limit of sake elegance, too retains a plump and deliciously apricot-y middle.
Cheers,
Jason
