Inside the Kura: My First Day Working in a Sake Brewery
- Jul 12
- 4 min read
Before I became a sake educator and brewer, I wrote a short diary after my first day working in a sake brewery in Shimane.
Reading it now, I can still feel the cold air of the kura, the warmth of the koji room, and the pressure of trying not to get in anyone’s way. My mind is filled with sweet memories, so I decided to share it almost as it was when I wrote it years ago.
My first day was as exciting as it was hard.
I woke up at 4 a.m. and left home at 5. There’s nothing like a hot shower to wake you up in the morning. And a cup of coffee, of course.
It was snowing a lot, and inside the brewery it was cold. Very cold. It has to be, to create the best conditions for the rice to work its magic.
I had read in sake study books about the importance of the kojimuro, the room where the rice is inoculated with kojikin, or koji mould, and that more often than not, only the kurabito have access to it.
Maybe I got it wrong, or maybe because Itakura Shuzo is a small brewery with only a handful of people, but that was the first place I entered that morning.
The first thing I saw was koji. I will never forget that scent.
The koji room is hot and requires a very clean environment, so before going in, we took our jackets off and washed our hands thoroughly. Everyone got in line to use the little sink next to the koji room, soaping and brushing their hands. Yes, brushing them. With a stiff-bristled brush.
Then gloves, alcohol spray, and we were ready to go in.
The brewery was as cold as outside, if not colder, so I was happy to enter a warm room. The kojimuro was around 35°C and humid, and after a few minutes inside, the air became quite thick. The first thing I did was mix the koji rice, making sure there were no lumps.
Then, out again. The temperature difference was huge, and now I understood why everyone was wearing multiple layers.
I tried to be as helpful as I could be, I think. Everyone ran up and down the brewery, and each person knew exactly what to do independently. Even for me, there was hardly any time to stop. In the few moments when I could catch my breath, I was mesmerised by this incredible system.
No one spoke unless it was strictly necessary, and everyone moved at a fast pace. It was like a dance.
A choreography where everyone was dancing on their own, while also making sure to support and complete the steps of the person next to them. Support was the unspoken rule. Maybe the most important one.
Not only was the pace fast, but everything was strictly related to the rice. Every single step was monitored and had to be precise down to the second. Even something that might sound simple, like washing rice, can be complex.
My senpai and I washed the rice together, and I must say, I had never felt so much pressure before.
Every batch of rice had to be washed for a very specific amount of time, measured in seconds, and I needed to stare at the big clock on the main wall of the brewery to make sure I was being extremely precise. Even one second makes a huge difference. There is no re-do, no second chance, and no possibility to make mistakes.
Even during breaks, time is of the essence. The first break ends at 8 a.m., and at 7:50 everyone gathers in the break room to enjoy a cup of tea.
Everyone stares at the TV. It doesn’t matter what is on. What everyone is really staring at is the digital clock in the corner of the screen.
7:58. 7:59. As soon as the time changes to 8:00, everyone stands up as if they are one person. Synchronized. And back to work.
I felt clumsy and slow. I hoped I wasn’t too much of a distraction for them. Every time I completed a task, I asked what I could help with next. There was no time to stop and explain things, so I learned by doing, peeking at what everyone else was doing. If I did something wrong, they simply came and fixed it.
Then, back to the kojimuro again. It was time to sprinkle the kojikin, or koji spores, onto the rice. This step felt like a ritual, and at Itakura Shuzo, it was the toji, the head brewer, who did it.
After the hand-washing ritual, everyone entered the room. We all gathered around the table where the rice was. The kojikin was already in the room, in a container on the table.
The sake gods were waiting.
The toji entered. We all stepped back as he grabbed the kojikin and slowly, but firmly, sprinkled it onto the rice. The tension was palpable, at least mine. Everyone watched the powder gently fall onto the rice. Another dance. So majestic that everyone almost held their breath as it covered the rice.
Pause. For a few seconds, no one moved. We had to make sure every tiny grain of kojikin touched the surface of the rice before doing anything.
Then, once again, everyone moved as one to mix the rice. We mixed it and covered it with a blanket. We would be back to mix it again later. We opened the door, the gods left the room, and we were out.
Everyone was kind and patient with me, but really, there was no time for pleasantries.
Precision, dedication, perseverance, support. I took home a little bit of these incredible qualities that these people had.
This is way harder on the body than I thought. My back hurts a little, and my arms are sore. I guess I am just not used to all this yet. I think today I’ll stay with my friends’ cats and sleep, so I can give my best again tomorrow.
Have a nice sake!
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Are you a hospitality professional looking to elevate your sake service? From staff training for hotels to curated sake lists for restaurants, Jijisake provides industry-leading consulting based on her experience as a brewer, Sake Educator and Event organizer.
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