
Chef Takumi
Awamori Mizuwari (泡盛水割り, awamori with water)
Awamori mizuwari is not a trick of the bar. It is three parts awamori, seven parts cold water, and enough patience to let the black-kōji aroma open.
A cooking platform built around craft, culture, and the stories behind what we eat.

Created by
A Kaku highball is not a bartender's trick. Pack the glass with ice, keep every part cold, add one measured pour of whisky, and stir only enough.
The ice is half the drink. That sounds like a small claim until you taste a highball made with tired ice, warm soda, and a busy spoon. Then the glass tells on you at once.
Kaku Highball, or Kaku-hai, is weeknight whisky in its cleanest Japanese form: Suntory Kakubin, hard ice, very cold soda, and almost no handling. The point isn't to show off the whisky. It's to stretch its grain sweetness and light smoke into something tall, dry, and brisk enough to sit beside yakitori, karaage, grilled corn, or whatever is coming off the fire. We make it plain because plainness is where the standard shows.
The one detail that decides it is temperature. Fill the glass with ice and stir the whisky over it first, because cold whisky grips the soda without flattening it. Pour the soda down the side, then stir once from the bottom. Once. A highball is not soup, though I have seen it treated with less mercy. Keep the bubbles alive and the drink stays sharp to the last sip.
There is no season when a Kaku-hai is wrong, but it makes most sense when the food is hot, salty, and direct. At an izakaya table it works like a pause between bites, washing the mouth clean without asking for attention. Honmono here is modest: the right bottle, the coldest soda you can manage, and enough restraint to leave the glass alone.
The Kakubin whisky bottle, named for its square, tortoiseshell-like glass, was introduced by Suntory in 1937 and became one of Japan's best-known everyday whiskies. The whisky highball grew strongly in postwar bar culture, then surged again in the 2000s when Suntory promoted the Kaku-hai as an izakaya drink served tall, cold, and food-friendly. Its standard pour, one part Kakubin to about four parts soda, reflects that modern izakaya style rather than a heavy cocktail-bar build.
Quantity
1 1/2 ounces
well chilled
Quantity
6 ounces
very cold
Quantity
enough to pack the glass
Quantity
1
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| Suntory Kakubin whiskywell chilled | 1 1/2 ounces |
| soda watervery cold | 6 ounces |
| large hard ice cubes | enough to pack the glass |
| lemon peel or wedge (optional) | 1 |
Set a tall highball glass in the freezer for a few minutes, or fill it with ice water while you gather the bottle and soda. A cold glass slows melting, and melting is what turns a clean highball into sweet, tired water.
Discard the ice water if you used it, then fill the glass to the rim with large, hard ice cubes. Don't be shy here. A full glass of good ice keeps the drink colder and dilutes it more slowly than a few lonely cubes floating at the top.
Pour the chilled Suntory Kakubin over the ice. Stir the whisky and ice about ten times, until the outside of the glass feels sharply cold. This chills the whisky before the soda arrives, so you don't have to punish the bubbles with extra stirring later.
Tilt the glass slightly and pour the very cold soda water slowly down the inside wall, aiming for about four parts soda to one part whisky. Pouring gently protects the carbonation, and carbonation is the lift of the drink.
Slide a bar spoon to the bottom of the glass, lift once, and stop. The whisky will rise through the soda and settle evenly enough. Stir more and you spend the bubbles you just protected.
Add a small lemon peel or wedge if you like it the izakaya way, but don't squeeze heavily unless the whisky is rougher than it should be. Serve at once, while the glass is cold and the bubbles still snap against the tongue.
1 serving (about 220g)
Culinary guides, cultural storytelling, and the editorial depth that makes cooking meaningful.
Discover Culinary Explorer
Chef Takumi
Awamori mizuwari is not a trick of the bar. It is three parts awamori, seven parts cold water, and enough patience to let the black-kōji aroma open.

Chef Takumi
Hot awamori asks for one small discipline: pour the hot water first, then the spirit. Do that, and the glass turns round, fragrant, and calmer than its strength suggests.

Chef Takumi
Bancha is the honest daily cup: late-season leaves, hot water, a short steep, and a clean amber-green liquor that asks for no ceremony to be good.

Chef Takumi
Whole black soybeans, roasted until their skins split, make a clear amber tea with a roasted sweetness and no caffeine. Drink it plain, then eat the softened beans while they still hold their warmth.