I’ll never forget the day I walked into a Japanese restaurant
And saw people fighting over a bottle of nihonshu
It was carnage
Middle-aged women tossed cutlery at each other
While young bloods tussled around on the floor
Kicking, biting and squirming to get a taste
One diner even used her pearl necklace as a garotte
And when she’d stepped over the competition
She tried to lift the bottle until the veins popped in her head
(I don’t think she read the label)
Is there such a thing as sake in the stone?
I’m not sure
But it didn’t stop other contenders from trying
Each person crawled through the war zone
Determined to prove their worthiness
But the bottle refused to budge
In the wake of such overwhelming chaos
Where was I?
I was enjoying a sip of cold futsushu
Some drinks don’t have to be premium
Some drinks are worthy enough
4 thoughts on “Ginjo To Die For”
Ah yes… a bottle of junmai daiginjo nigori will do that to me. I think that’s why the ex-Empress favors Tori Kai… easier not having to walk on loose pearls everywhere.
I’d feel the same way about a bowl of finely cooked ramen.
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