I headed to Kamiya Bar in Asakusa, reliving sweet memories from 20 years ago.

I first visited Kamiya Bar in my early twenties. My memory is hazy, and all I remember is that the famous drink there was incredibly sweet. Twenty years have passed since then. As you get older, the taste of alcohol changes. To relive the scene of the bar that writers loved, I headed to Asakusa for the first time in a long time.

"It's a place you go when you're fed up with the bars in Shinjuku, and the bars in Ginza have become too Parisian, and the berets and katakana-infused speech of the people who frequent them have become unbearably pretentious"—this is how the American Japanologist Seidensticker described the psychology of people heading to Asakusa.

For renowned writers such as Nagai Kafu, Takami Jun, and Irokawa Takehiro, Asakusa was a refuge from the oppressive atmosphere of the Yamanote district. Standing at its entrance since 1880 is Japan's first bar, "Kamiya Bar."

Inseparable from the history of Kamiya Bar is "Denki Bran" (current product name: Denki Bran), which was created in 1882 (Meiji 15). This amber-colored liquid was created to offer affordable Western liquor to the masses at a time when it was still expensive. It is a blend of brandy, gin, wine, curaçao, and herbs. In the Meiji Restoration era, when electricity was still a novelty, there was a trend to name cutting-edge things "Electric ○○," which shows just how much this drink was met with astonishment.

Kamiya Bar: A miraculous example of modern architecture, preserving the charm of the Taisho Romantic era.

Online information says it's just a one-minute walk from the Tokyo Metro Ginza Line station, but I was skeptical as I emerged above ground, wondering if it was really that close. After walking about 10 meters, I stood at the intersection in front of the station and the sign for "Kamiya Bar" caught my eye.

This modern commercial building, constructed of reinforced concrete and rebuilt in 1921, miraculously survived two major disasters: the Great Kanto Earthquake of 1923 and the Tokyo air raids of 1945. In 2011, it was designated a Registered Tangible Cultural Property of Japan. The exterior features bright tile cladding typical of the Taisho period, and the second floor boasts a beautiful row of three arched windows.

Stepping inside, I entered the restaurant, passing through a retro sign using traditional Chinese characters. It evoked a nostalgic feeling, like a department store restaurant from my elementary school days—which, come to think of it, is only natural since it's been around for much longer—and while maintaining that retro atmosphere, it never felt old-fashioned.

At 6 PM on a weekday, the bar is 80-90% full. Some foreigners are excitedly enjoying Denki Bran and beer side-by-side, while an elderly man is pouring himself a bottle of beer, and another older gentleman is quietly sipping his drink alone. At a table in the corner, a group of young people, who have likely come to take photos of the atmospheric drinking scene, are laughing together. Regulars seeking the lingering scent of the Showa era, tourists and young people who find the retro atmosphere refreshing—this bar has that unique Asakusa vibe that embraces all kinds of people across generations.

The tingling sensation of Denki Bran and the Asakusa way

After looking around the store, I bought a meal ticket in person at the register by the entrance. The idea of ​​a meal ticket system might sound a bit troublesome, but surprisingly, lining up in front of the register felt refreshing in a way. There was no room for hesitation about what to drink. Of course, I ordered "Denki Bran".

Currently, there are two types available: 30% alcohol for 400 yen and 40% alcohol "Denki Bran <Old>" for 500 yen. Apparently, the original version had an even stronger alcohol content of 45%, so I ordered the stronger one to experience a taste of its former glory. For snacks, I chose the classic "stew" (650 yen) and "crab croquettes" (1000 yen).

As I sat down, a glass filled to the brim with an amber-colored liquid was brought to me. I gently took a sip. A subtle sweetness spread across my tongue, but immediately afterward, a sharp bitterness from the gin and herbs, along with the strong alcoholic kick, burned my throat. It truly lived up to its name, "Electric."

...Although I wrote that, this is merely a description for a food review, and you can't really taste it so calmly. Most people will probably think "Wow, that's strong alcohol!!!" the moment they put it in their mouths. In reality, the moment you take a sip, it hits you so hard that it feels like Denki Bran is going to shoot out of your nose. However, the sweetness makes you gradually get used to it, which is both why this drink is easy to drink despite its alcohol content and why it's dangerous.

There are certain customs for regulars at Kamiya Bar. I think you should drink alcohol however you like, but since it's a part of food reviews, I'll introduce it. You gulp down Denki Bran straight and drink cold draft beer as a chaser—it sounds cool to write, "This endless loop is the Kamiya Bar style and accelerates the night in Asakusa," but it's really just a continuous intake of alcohol.

The "stew" and "crab croquettes" served as appetizers are literally old-fashioned stew and crab croquettes, without any strange modifications or unusual flavors. There are few appetizers these days that live up to expectations so well. The unpretentious, down-to-earth flavors gently envelop the complex flavors of Denki Bran.

The "genuine mass appeal" of Denki Bran, beloved by writers.

Why did so many literary giants love Denki Bran so much?

In "No Longer Human," Osamu Dazai wrote, "I can guarantee that nothing beats Denki Bran for getting drunk quickly..." For him, burdened by the frustrations and anxieties of his youth, this drink, which quickly and intensely induces intoxication and forcibly detaches his consciousness from reality, must have been his greatest salvation. The critic Hideo Kobayashi also reminisced in a magazine interview in 1951, "I was fond of that 'Denki Bran.' It was cheap and quite tasty."

The poet Sakutaro Hagiwara wrote in Asakusa, "What is the pitiful man next to me, drinking alone, thinking?" Quietly contemplating the loneliness of a stranger amidst the hustle and bustle—that perspective suits Asakusa perfectly.

Asakusa possesses an inclusive spirit that intoxicates both the rich and the poor equally, allowing people to drink inexpensive alcohol unpretentiously among the crowd. That's precisely why it was an ideal place for writers to observe people and confront their own inner selves. Kamiya Bar and Denki Bran likely served as devices that translated and offered "sophisticated Western culture" to the "common people of downtown Asakusa."

Even in the post-war era, when resources were scarce and everything was in short supply, Kamiya Bar refused to compromise. They continued to uphold the quality of the liquor poured into the glasses. It is because of this sincere attitude that, even more than 100 years later, Denki Bran continues to warm our hearts and bodies with a certain indescribable nostalgia. The reason why writers loved it may not have been simply because it got them drunk, but because of the genuine, unpretentious popular appeal that permeated the liquor and the atmosphere.

The bar closes at 8 PM. The night ends early at "Kamiya Bar."

Whether it's the magic of Denki Bran or something else, as I keep drinking, I find myself spinning and unsteady on my feet. I can almost see the shadows of the writers who once drank from this very table flickering at the bottom of the amber glass—and wanting to say something a little cool like that is surely a sign of being drunk. To begin with, this kind of expression is usually a cliché I force myself to write when I have nothing else to write. I'm well aware of that, so when I write something like that, I must be drunk. Or maybe it's the alcohol, or myself.

The closing time is early, at 8 PM (last order at 7:30 PM). Even if you head to a second bar feeling slightly tipsy, the night is still long. Asakusa is always like that.

Today's recommendation

Denki Bran (Old) (500 yen)
Small draft beer (435ml) (750 yen)
Stew (650 yen)
Crab croquette (1000 yen)

Shop information

Kamiya Bar

Address: 1-1-1 Asakusa, Taito-ku
Business hours: 11: 00 ~ 20: 00
Closed on Tuesdays and two Mondays each month.

Access: Get off at Asakusa Station on the Tokyo Metro Ginza Line, Exit 3, 1-2 minute walk.
Get off at Asakusa Station on the Toei Asakusa Line, and walk 1-2 minutes from Exit A5.
Get off at Asakusa Station on the Tobu Skytree Line, take the main exit, and walk for 1-2 minutes.

Naoya Kurishita

Born in 1980 in Tokyo, he is a writer and book reviewer. After completing his studies in business administration at the Graduate School of International Social Sciences, Yokohama National University, he worked for a specialist magazine before becoming independent. Although he started out as an economic journalist, he somehow writes a lot about alcohol. His books include "What I Learned About Life from Getting Drunk" (Sayusha), "How Great People Survive: Side Hustles, Job Changes, Financial Strategies, and Begging" (ibid.), "The Drinking Habits of Politicians: The Drinkers Who Moved the World" (Heibonsha Shinsho), and "Profit and Virtue" (CE Media House).