KOKUBU

A potato extinct for a century has awakened.
In Kirishima, Kagoshima, the “Tsuranashi Genji” was once a beloved variety of the Taisho era. As modernization swept through, it vanished, forgotten in a preservation vault—a botanical coffin where only ten seedlings slept.
One farmer, Hidetsugu Taniyama, opened that coffin. He remains the sole guardian capable of raising this fragile, ancient vine in today’s changed climate. Every planting is a dialogue with the past; a letter exchanged with farmers of a hundred years ago.
At the distillery, Master Brewer Nobuhisa Yasuda—recognized as a “Modern Master Craftsman”—awaited. He chose a path that refuses rice koji as an interpreter. Instead, he coats steamed potatoes directly with spores. The potato ferments itself. Nothing stands between ingredient and technique. A liquid is born that carries only the maker’s signature.
Bring the glass close. The map is rewritten. The concept of “sweet potato shochu” vanishes, replaced by lychee blossoms, morning dew on muscat grapes, and fine white wine. The compound citronellol breaks a century of silence with an aromatic cry. On the palate, sweetness blooms, then turns to vivid dryness. Like a butterfly opening and closing its wings, it reveals a different shape with every breath.
Ten seedlings. One farmer. One master. If any one of these is missing, this spirit ceases to exist. It is a rope of three threads, unraveled by a single cut. That fragility is its rarity.
Reviving the lost is not nostalgia. It is drawing a sound no one has ever heard from an ancient instrument. Kokubu Distillery has achieved this within a single drop.