KOMASA RUM -Aged-: How a Shochu Brewery Made a 6-Year-Old Japanese Rum — Hioki Distillery, Kagoshima
2026.10.05
In short: KOMASA RUM -Aged- is a Japanese rum made by Komasa Brewery, a shochu maker, at its Hioki Distillery in Kagoshima, released nationwide in Japan on 10 September 2026. Made from molasses “out of respect for the very first traditional rum,” fermented for 8 days with brown-sugar shochu yeast, distilled in the same still as Kanosuke HIOKI POT STILL whisky, and aged 6 years in recharred rice-shochu casks and sherry casks. By Mika Tanimoto, owner of Bar Little Happiness, a rum and whisky bar in Hiroshima.
“Why is this rum aged?”
That was the first thing I wanted to ask when I visited Komasa Brewery’s Hioki Distillery.
Hiyoshi-cho, Hioki City, Kagoshima Prefecture.
About 2 km from here is Kanosuke Distillery.
Visitors probably talk about whisky most of the time.
But that day, what I wanted to hear about was rum.
KOMASA RUM -Aged-, released nationwide by Komasa Brewery on 10 September 2026.
I had always assumed this rum would come out under the Kanosuke name.
But when I looked at the release, it said “KOMASA.”
And after that, “Aged.”
The more I researched, the more I wanted to know about Komasa Brewery.
This time, I visited Hioki Distillery and spoke with President Norihisa Komasa of Komasa Brewery and Kikuchi-san from the marketing division.
On site, the two of them told me so much: about making things as a shochu brewery, the background to making rum, and the actual equipment.
Along the way, I was also able to ask Matsumoto-san, who is in charge of rum production, a little about distillation.
I had come to hear about “rum,” but before I knew it, the talk had turned to shochu, then casks, then stills.
Why does a shochu brewery make rum?
Why is it “Aged” from the very first release?
And why six years?

KOMASA RUM -Aged- specs: a 6-year-old Japanese rum
- Release date: 10 September 2026 (nationwide in Japan)
- ABV: 40%
- Raw material: molasses
- Maturation: 6 years (distilled in 2020)
- Casks: recharred rice-shochu storage casks + sherry casks
Official tasting notes
Nose: sea breeze, apple compote, vanilla
Body: kanro-ame (Japanese soy-sugar candy), fukure-gashi (Kagoshima brown-sugar steamed cake)
Finish: oak, cinnamon, a hint of smoke
What surprised me first was the six years.
Six years.
Most Japanese craft rums release freshly distilled spirit as white rum.
That’s exactly why six years from the very start stood out.
What’s more, the label doesn’t say “6 years.”
When I asked why: they don’t yet know how many people will pay attention to it.
If they print an age now, they can’t go up or down.
Depending on stock, the age may increase in future.
I see.
It isn’t a way of thinking that says “it’s 6 years old, so let’s sell it.”
What they had happened to be 6 years old.
And they made sure not to be tied to an age from here on.
Why molasses? Respect for the very first rum
The other thing I was curious about was the raw material of this rum.
Molasses.
“Why molasses?!”
From here, a story about the history of rum began.
When people hear “rum,” many think of sugar cane.
Looking at recent Japanese craft rums, many try to bring out the character of the raw material itself, using fresh cane juice or cane syrup.
Among them, Komasa Brewery chose molasses.
It is what remains in the process of making sugar.
Trace the history of rum and you cannot separate it from the history of sugar.
From the Age of Discovery onward, European countries grew sugar cane in the Caribbean and elsewhere and produced sugar.
Behind that is the history of many people brought from Africa as slaves.
And spirits came to be made from the molasses left over from making sugar.
Behind the spirit we call rum lies that sad history.
My blog post about the slave trade (please read the second half; in Japanese)
It was Kikuchi-san who told me this story in detail.
In making rum, Kikuchi-san had researched its history.
And when choosing the raw material, the idea that came up was:
“Respect for the very first traditional rum.”
Here, the meaning of “traditional” changed for me.
It doesn’t simply mean “the old-fashioned method.”
It means knowing where rum came from, and paying respect to its very first form.
That is where Komasa Brewery began its rum.
2020: the yeast never arrived — a rum fermented with brown-sugar shochu yeast
The raw material was decided.
Next, fermentation.
Here, too, things didn’t go as planned.
2020.
Just as production was about to begin, because of the pandemic, the yeast they planned to import from Australia didn’t arrive at the last minute.
Now what?
They hurriedly searched Kagoshima for something they could use.
What turned up was the yeast used for kokuto (brown-sugar) shochu.
The yeast meant to be brought from overseas for rum never came, and in the end, the rum was made with a yeast used for Kagoshima shochu.
They set out to make rum, and shochu showed up.
Fermentation time also took trial and error.
For rum overseas, it can be as short as 24 hours.
48 to 72 hours is a common guideline.
Shochu, on the other hand, takes around 8 to 10 days.
So what about this rum?
The result was 8 days.
They brought the fermentation thinking built up in shochu into rum.
Bartenders tasted it too, and they were told this long fermentation produces fruity ester aromas.
The freshness I felt when I actually drank it.
Part of it may come from here.


(The mashing water at Hioki Distillery — hardness 40)
Walking through Hioki Distillery: “We made the rum in these tanks, too”
They also showed me the actual production floor.
It was just before the sweet potato season began.
The grounds are large, divided into several buildings.
Step outside, and
the UV is intense.
We walked along a road with no shade to the next building.
On the way, I noticed stacked bags of sweet potatoes.
“Each bag is 500 kilograms.”
500 kilograms.

And looking closely, each bag is printed with the name of a contract farmer.
If there are many damaged potatoes, they can give feedback to that farmer.
The people sorting them also know whose potatoes they are handling right now.
By around 2006, they had reached a point where 100% of the farmers’ faces were visible.
I came to see rum, and this has turned completely into a shochu story.
But from here, it got even more interesting.
Farmers who eat soil
Farmers who put effort into building good soil eat the soil, I was told.
They put a little soil in their mouth.
Then they can tell what is missing.
“They eat soil?”
I couldn’t help asking again.
But if what you make is alcohol, you look all the way down to the soil where its raw materials grow.
Listening to stories like this, I gradually learned where shochu begins.

Even the inside of your nose turns black
Next, I heard about koji.
Shochu uses yellow, black or white koji.
In Kagoshima’s warm climate, black koji — the same as for awamori — has traditionally been used.
Because it makes it harder for unwanted bacteria to grow.
But black koji has its hardships.
The brewery turns black.
And
even the inside of the workers’ noses turns pitch black.
Some people even get high fevers from allergic reactions.
Then, by mutation, a pure white koji appeared.
Propagating that is how white koji came about.
“If you look at other breweries’ flagship brands, many are white-koji shochu. That’s the reason.”
This story stayed with me.
Because a new koji was born, the way shochu was made changed, too.
Koji changed for the sake of the workers’ health.
It was the first time I had learned that history.
In front of the primary fermentation tanks, we came back to rum.
Rice koji, water and yeast go in to multiply the yeast.
Equipment made for shochu.
Standing in front of those tanks,
“We made the rum in these tanks, too,”
I was told.
Rum is made in the same place where shochu is made.
Something I felt again and again that day.

Seven stills at Hioki Distillery — including one with four outlets
Including a wooden one, there are seven stills.
A horizontal one.
One for vacuum distillation.
Each has a different purpose.
What surprised me most was a still with four outlets.

Vaporised compounds can be collected at different points.
In other words, they can aim for and pick up specific aromatic characters.
And one more.
A wooden still.

Only one person in Japan can make these, I was told.
Here, partway through, I also spoke a little with Matsumoto-san, who is in charge of rum production.
“Because I love stills”
Matsumoto-san is in charge of rum production.
When a sugar company on Tanegashima wanted to make rum, Matsumoto-san went there to provide technical guidance for the launch.
Commuting to Tanegashima in roughly two-week cycles.
I asked a slightly mean question:
“Don’t you mind teaching your techniques?”
The answer:
“It changes completely depending on that distillery’s stills and how they make it, so you can’t easily make the same taste.”
I see.
And when I asked why go that far,
“Because I love stills,”
came the reply, with a laugh.
What? (lol)
The reason is way too simple.
But hearing it, I was strangely convinced.

(Anyway, this brewery has such a lovely atmosphere. Time flows slowly, and everyone is smiling!)
“Which one is the Hioki pot still?”
In the still room, there was one more thing I wanted to ask.
“Kanosuke HIOKI POT STILL,” released by Kanosuke Distillery.
This “HIOKI” refers to this place, Hioki.
The spirit is made here.
So which still makes the spirit for that whisky?
I asked.
The answer:
“The same still as the rum.”
That whisky’s spirit, and this rum.
Born from the same still.

My head got a little confused.
All along, I had
Kanosuke = whisky.
Komasa = shochu.
neatly separated like that in my mind.
But walking through the brewery, I found it isn’t divided so cleanly.
I asked one more thing.
They are also trying whisky in that wooden still.
“We hope to be able to unveil it somewhere.”
Hearing that,
“I absolutely want to drink that!”
is what I said.
Aren’t you doing too many things?
Hioki Distillery makes shochu.
It makes whisky.
It makes rum.
It makes gin.
Liqueurs, umeshu, even non-alcoholic shochu.
“Aren’t you doing too many things?”
I asked (lol).
In fact, there is a sense within the company that it’s “a bit too much.”
But listening to them, it isn’t just spreading themselves thin.
The more spirits they handle, the more options a blender has.
What you learn with one spirit can be used when making another.
What they learn with rum connects to whisky.
Knowledge of casks built up through shochu can be used for rum.
Things that look like detours at first become weapons later.
This is what I find fascinating about running a business.
At the time, you can’t know if it’s the right answer.
Years later,
“I’m glad we did that”
can happen.
I think the 6-year-old KOMASA RUM, too, comes from that kind of accumulation.

“Put in a Kanosuke cask and it’d be easier to sell, right?”
Here, I asked another mean question.
“If you used the Kanosuke name, it would be so much easier to sell.”
They could use Kanosuke casks for some of the rum’s component spirits, and say,
“This is rum aged in Kanosuke casks.”
That’s all.
Whisky fans would surely get it.
If it were me, I’d sell it that way.
No —
I’d want to (lol).
But that’s not the kind of answer I got.
Each brand has its own position.
Not “put it in because it sells.”
I felt the will of KOMASA RUM here.
Not borrowing the Kanosuke name, but releasing it as KOMASA RUM.

“Komasa, the masters of maturation”: recharred rice-shochu storage casks
And so, back to my first question.
Why six years from the start?
For Japanese craft rum, the first release is almost always white rum.
That’s exactly why these six years caught my attention.
Komasa Brewery has a history of cask maturation.
1957.
Kanosuke Komasa, the second generation, aged rice shochu in casks for the first time in Japan.
What came of it was Mellow Kozuru.
Sixty-nine years have passed since.
Cask maturation, carried on since 1957.
Komasa Brewery, I was told, had been patiently watching for the right moment when it could release something cask-aged.
Light, even at 6 years old: tasting KOMASA RUM -Aged-
Then they let me taste it.
Above all, fresh.
When you hear “6 years old,” you imagine something rounder and heavier, right?
So did I.
But the moment it hits your mouth, its outline is light.
Sea breeze.
Apple compote.
Vanilla.
Kanro-ame, fukure-gashi.
And oak, cinnamon, a hint of smoke.
You feel the six years, but it doesn’t get too heavy.
It’s not a rum with strong sweetness up front, so it looks great for all kinds of drinks and cocktails!
And the label is so cute!
I came to see rum — the future of Japanese rum
This time, writing this blog took many times longer than usual.
That day, I came to see rum.
Shochu is outside my area.
So after I got back, there was so much to look up.
I visited to write about rum, but I couldn’t write the article without researching shochu.
It took a huge amount of time.
But partway through, I realised:
this, too, is what Komasa Brewery is trying to do.
Everything starts from shochu.
People who get interested through whisky or rum come all the way to Hioki Distillery.
And there, they get to know shochu too.
They completely got me.
But it’s rare to be “got” in such a pleasant way.

I have almost no photos from that day.
Wherever we went, they explained everything so carefully.
So carefully that I never found the moment to raise my camera.
While I was thinking, “Would it be rude to press the shutter now?”, the next story began.
And I got absorbed in listening again.
Before I knew it, the time for my next appointment was approaching.
— As an interviewer, I was completely defeated (lol).
But after I got back, I thought again:
each drink seems to exist separately, but in fact, it doesn’t.
The time spent making one drink is handed on to the next.
What this brewery has built up over a long time changes shape and becomes the next drink.
Thinking that way, KOMASA RUM -Aged- doesn’t feel like a rum that suddenly appeared here.
A bottle that lies beyond everything this brewery has built up.
So when it’s released, I want to serve it at my counter in Hiroshima while telling this story.
“This is a rum made by a shochu brewery.”
Then talk about the casks.
Then talk about the stills.
“Actually, this rum’s still is the same one as Kanosuke HIOKI POT STILL.”
Talking like that.
We were supposed to be talking about rum, and before you know it, we’re talking about whisky.
I love those moments, when a story spreads out from a single bottle.
KOMASA RUM -Aged- goes on sale nationwide in Japan on 10 September 2026.
Whisky and rum taste even better when you touch the hearts of the people who make them.
Every encounter is meant to be. Welcome to the world of Rum&Whisky.
[A note from Tanimoto] This article about Komasa Brewery is based on my own visit, but it also includes some of my personal thoughts and interpretations. Please enjoy it as the musings of one rum lover.
Other articles from this day
→ “You should go and do your best somewhere else” — President Norihisa Komasa of Komasa Brewery on the road to taking over the family business
→ Kanosuke Distillery Report: The Secret of “Mellow” Whisky
[About the author]
Mika Tanimoto
CEO, Little.m Inc. / Owner-bartender
Since 2006, I have run Bar Little Happiness, a whisky and rum bar in Nagarekawa, Hiroshima. I visit distilleries in Japan and around the world and write about the people who make the spirits. Recipient of the Hiroshima City Excellent Skilled Worker Award.
“Whisky and rum taste even better when you know the hearts of the people who make them.”
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