Snow, it turns out, suits a brewery. The winter days are short and the light is poor and it is cold, but it is rarely bitterly cold; the snow cover holds the temperature down and, more importantly, holds it steady. The koji mould and the yeast both prefer steadiness to any particular number.

The water arrives down the Shinano and the Agano and a great many smaller rivers, in quantity, and it is on the whole soft. Soft water ferments slowly. A slow fermentation does not produce sharp edges, and the absence of sharp edges is the point of everything that follows.

What comes out is described as tanrei, which means something like clean and light. Little in the way of off-flavour, nothing muddy, and very little left behind in the mouth after you swallow. In some regions that would be counted as a lack. Here it is the standard people are aiming at.

In February 2022 the name of the prefecture was registered as a protected origin for sake. The snow falls every year regardless. What is worth noticing is that a place buried under it for four months of the year has arranged its principal industry so that the snow counts as an advantage rather than as something to be endured.