Akkeshi Keichitsu Single Malt
Where Peat Meets Plum Blossom

The Keichitsu expression continues the distillery's ambitious "24 Sekki" series, each release aligned with a moment in the natural calendar. It's not just poetic branding - it's philosophical. These whiskies are meant to embody a mood, a microseason, and in Keichitsu, we find a liquid landscape of renewal.

The nose opens with an elegant contradiction - peat smoke and ume plum, charred driftwood and fresh pear skin. There's a whisper of white flowers - not heady, but pale and wind-blown - and beneath it, a subtle earthiness, like wet soil after thaw. The smoke is not aggressive here; it's woven in, like incense in a spring breeze.

On the palate, the first impression is texture - a light oiliness, almost silky, carrying notes of yuzu marmalade, salted caramel, and a trace of rosemary ash. The peat rises slowly, herbal and coastal, not medicinal. Imagine grilled grapefruit, smoked black tea, and a thread of miso - savoury but never heavy. There's a clear minerality too, like river stones warmed by sun, giving structure to the soft fruits and spice.

The finish is long and articulate: white pepper, seaweed, and a cooling note of menthol or eucalyptus, receding like the tide at dusk. It doesn't vanish - it lingers, in that peculiarly Akkeshi way, as if the distillery has bottled not just flavour but atmosphere.

Akkeshi's Language: Delicate Power
Where so many peated whiskies lean into the brute force of phenol, Akkeshi Keichitsu whispers smoke rather than shouts it. This is peat used with restraint, to shape, not dominate. The distillery's use of both bourbon and sherry casks, often with native Japanese oak (mizunara) in the mix, adds dimensionality without clutter.

This is whisky that rewards attention - the kind you sip with the window cracked open on a rainy morning, or during a slow conversation with someone who appreciates the space between words.

Final Thought
Akkeshi Keichitsu is not a whisky of performance. It is a whisky of presence. A spirit of seasonal awakening, captured in malt and mist, smoke and stone. It reminds us that the boldest whiskies don't always roar - some simply breathe.

It's not just a single malt.
It's the turning of a season, in a glass.