Ugo no Tsuki(A Nigori Umeshu That Melts Into the Heart)

While preparing dinner, I suddenly found myself craving something sweet.

My eyes landed on a bottle of Ugo no Tsuki (After the Rain, the Moon) Nigori Umeshu — a cloudy plum liqueur that had been recommended to me at a small, family-run sake shop in Miyajima, Hiroshima.

It didn’t feel like the time for snacks, but I thought,
“Why not?” and poured myself a little glass before dinner.

And wow — what a lovely little moment of happiness that turned out to be.

Because it’s a nigori (cloudy) sake, I gently shook the bottle before pouring.
The texture was thick, rich with crushed plum pulp, full of that “whole-fruit” kind of presence.

The taste? A deep, unfiltered richness beautifully balanced with a clear, gentle sweetness.
I couldn’t help but whisper, “This… this is what plum should taste like.”

And just like that — I was in a good mood.♡

For some reason, it reminded me of peach nectar.
Do they still make that stuff?
That soft, comforting sweetness that made everything feel okay back in my student days…
and the smiling face of a friend who used to love it.

Yes, this umeshu is just like that nectar from those years — but gentler, more refined.
Like nectar, all grown up.

Then another memory bubbled up —
Of the plum wine my family used to make at home when I was a child.
Of course, it wasn’t made with fancy plums or pure rice sake like Ugo no Tsuki,
and yet… the nostalgia was overwhelming.
My grandmother’s smile. My mother’s smile.

You’re wondering how a kid knew what umeshu tasted like?
Well… because I didn’t know it was alcohol and snuck some of the plums from the jar.
They were sweet, delicious — I had two or three.

I still remember my mom and grandma rushing over in a panic,
worried I had a fever because my face was bright red and I was giggling nonstop.

It’s strange, isn’t it — how one taste can make you cry a little.
The senses are such a mystery.
Just one sip, and the air, the sound, the light from long ago… it all comes rushing back.
Like a video that replays not just images, but feelings.

This taste is the taste of nostalgia.
Of friends.
Of family.
Of the soft, gentle memories from childhood.
It’s the kind of flavor that makes me say to myself,
“You did well today. Let’s do our best again tomorrow.”

To Aihara Shuzō, the brewery behind this umeshu —
Thank you, truly, for such thoughtful craftsmanship.
And thank you as well to the lovely sake shop owner who pointed me toward this bottle.

This… this is what I imagine a “professional of food” looks like.