Among the marvels of Japan—cherry blossoms, anime, bullet trains—is the vending machine highball. You can find these dispensed canned whisky cocktails in train stations, hotel lobbies, and elsewhere, making it almost as easy to get an adult refreshment as a can of cola.
The highball is a low-alcohol cocktail (on par with beer), and since World War II it has ingrained itself as a fixture in Japanese drinking culture. Technically, a highball is any sort of spirit mixed with a form of fizzy water (a gin and tonic fits in this category, as does a rum and Coke). But in Japan it’s typically whisky (the spelling there) and soda water. And in Japan’s better bars, this simple drink gets as much care lavished upon it as any elaborate craft cocktail.
Some dismiss the highball as a whisky drink for those who don’t really like whisky, since it basically involves taking a good spirit and diluting it with bubbly water. But when every element of the drink—whisky, soda, ice, glass—is granted high respect, as it is in Japan, the highball, or haibōru, as it’s called, can be ethereal and delightful. Add an extra element, and it takes on unexpected depth.
The Japanese whisky industry was established in the 1920s with the idea of re-creating the whisky of Scotland, then making it better. In pursuit of that goal, producers built distilleries in different regions of Japan to reap the benefits of flavors that arise from varying climates in their whiskies, which are then blended to create distinctive profiles.
For your highball, you needn’t use one of the pricey cult whiskies. Any good whisky from Japan will do. Suntory Toki has light citrus notes that seem to dance with the soda; a bourbon drinker would probably prefer Nikka Whisky from the Barrel, with its heavier caramel and oak notes providing firmer anchorage for the bubbles.
The soda water is equally important. If you’re dubious—it’s just water!—seek out one of the rare U.S. bars with a Suntory Toki highball dispenser. These devices began arriving here in 2016 and produce a carbonated water that’s said to be five times as bubbly as run-of-the-mill soda, with finely compressed bubbles that last until the last sip. Think: tiny Champagne bubbles. (OK YAKI in Atlanta has one such machine, as does China Chilcano in Washington, D.C.) If you’re using store-bought soda water, opt for versions with the most enviable bubble dissolution rates, including Topo Chico, Mineragua, and Mountain Valley.
Glassware should be well chilled beforehand to preserve the sparkle. A collins glass works well, but frosted schooners are also popular in Tokyo bars. Use larger ice cubes, preferably so cold they’re coated with frost when they go into the glass. Add the whisky, then gently pour in the chilled bubbly water. For springtime radiance, I like to add a touch of a raspberry liqueur, such as Chambord, with the whisky. And don’t stir the drink as if you’re trying to reverse the tides. Japanese bartenders reverently “lift” the ice cubes with a bar spoon then lower them down, so the ingredients mingle discreetly, preserving the effervescence.
Finish off with a lemon twist for citrusy brightness. Then sit back and sip, imagining you’re on a speedy but silent bullet train off to enjoy Kyoto’s cherry blossoms in the sun.
