In the bottle: The moment the bottle is opened, an inviting wave of toasted barley pours out, layered with a warm, earthy sweetness. Delving a bit deeper reveals notes of slightly overripe honeydew melon, banana candy, and a gentle, rounded grain character. Rich yet remarkably fresh, the aroma is beautifully balanced and instantly appealing—enough to challenge any long-held prejudice against mugi shōchū that I have had for quite some time.  

On the rocks: Kyōya Jidaizō Mugibue truly blossoms with a little chilling and dilution from the melting ice. The first sip delivers a lush, sweet barley character that coats the palate, quickly unfolding into layers of vanilla, toasted grain, and subtle syrupy fruit. Barley remains the undisputed star, threading through every note with elegance. As the ice melts a bit more, the sweetness recedes slightly, allowing crisper, more structured edges to emerge—adding complexity without ever becoming harsh. Highly drinkable and rewarding. 

Straight: Surprisingly refined when served straight. The barley takes center stage with a pronounced yet smooth cereal note, supported by persistent, honey-like sweetness that carries through to a clean finish. There is a mild alcohol presence of alcohol toward the back, but it remains well-integrated and never intrusive. An excellent and convincing introduction (or re-introduction) to the category.

Paired with Chocolate: An interesting but subdued pairing. Unlike the dramatic synergy often seen with imo or kome shōchū, the dark chocolate tends to retreat into the background, leaving the barley flavors largely unaffected. The combination is pleasant and harmonious rather than transformative—neither element clashes, yet neither significantly elevates the other.