Springtime in Japan: mochi is my sensei
Mochi is my sensei (teacher).
I love that food for the Japanese is more than food. It is an integral part of life and living.
Everything the Japanese do, where ever they go, whether it be a special occasion or in their daily lives, food is right there, as sure as the inexpensive and easy-to-grab onigiri rice ball you’ll find in Seven-Eleven or Lawson convenience stores, or konbinis as they are called in Japan.
Springtime is approaching in Japan, and you can see that by the different blossoms slowly popping up. I said I saw “sakura” to a man I was talking to and he answered with a definite “no”. He added, “it’s too early, perhaps ume (plum)?” Don’t mess with the Japanese, they know their blossoms around here, in particular, plum, peach, and cherry.
Back home, we have foods that signify the arrival of spring like asparagus and rhubarb, and I love that.
But here it seems like the whole country is in a collective conspiracy to celebrate spring even before the first blossoms appear outside.
The first sign that spring was approaching here was the displays in stores. Almost overnight, everything has changed to beautiful displays with spring pastel colours, carefully arranged branches with blossoms made of paper and other materials, and ornate Japanese ceremonial dolls.
First, there is Hinamatsuri or Girl’s Day, which is celebrated on March 3, to pray for the health and happiness of young girls in Japan. Soon after arrives “hanami” (cherry blossom viewing) at the end of March to early May, with the exact timing depending on your region and news forecasts on when the blossoms are arriving! This is a much-anticipated time for gathering with family and friends to view the blossoms and have picnics.
As with almost all holidays in Japan, there is special food to match!
One of my favourite things to look at and taste are the special spring-themed wagashi. Wagashi are traditional Japanese confections that are often served with tea, especially the types made of mochi (rice cake), sweetened azuki bean paste, and fruits, and are typically made with plant ingredients.
Japanese spring sweets include:
• Chi chi dango (don’t you love the name, it reminds me of “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang” for those who remember the movie), small soft and chewy pink mochi dumplings, served for Girl’s Day
• Sakura mochi, a pink-coloured mochi with an azuki paste centre, wrapped in a pickled sakura leaf
• Ichigo daifuku, a combination of fresh mochi, azuki paste, and a fresh strawberry
• Hanami dango, traditional tri-color dumplings, made with sweetened rice flour and served on a skewer
• Spring colourings of yokan, a red or white bean-based dessert with agar and sugar
• Beautiful transparent kanten (agar) jelly molds are filled with spring-type arrangements and fruit
• Rakugan, traditional candy made by pressing Japanese sugar, soybean flour and other fine powders in wooden molds, change to blossom shapes and spring colours.
Vendors showcasing these sweets are for me like the storefront windows back home at Christmas in the large department stores with so much to see and marvel at, especially as a child. Here it is more the adults that come to admire and leave home with sweets to share.
A Canadian friend of mine who is living in Tokyo now said he didn’t have a sweet tooth before coming to Japan, but once here, he loves the Japanese desserts, with interesting shapes and textures, and often sweet and salty combinations. I agree!
My Japanese ancestry is confirmed when I go past the booths with freshly made mochi anything, usually with sweetened red bean paste in various textures, and I must stop. There is a strong pull for me to buy something to eat. Even as I write this article, I am getting a strong craving for mochi!
While the Japanese may seem conservative and reserved on the outside, there is an endearing focus on children and the wonder of childhood that is kept alive everywhere, with cute or “kawaii” prominent in all things, in particular food.
There are many French bakeries and cafes in Tokyo, selling beautiful cakes and pastries, many with typical French elegance. Mont Blanc is a favourite dessert of puréed, sweetened chestnuts in a spaghetti-like consistency for the mountain, topped with whipped cream to resemble the snow-cap. There are also desserts in the form of pandas, pigs, rabbits, cats, and dogs (it is the year of the dog after all so they have an excuse) competing in the other popular “kawaii” category.
Even the beloved Japanese cartoon characters are desserts or love a certain dessert.
Take Anpanman, your classic superhero who wears a cap, fights for truth, justice, and the Japanese way. And oh yeah, no biggie, but he happens to be a bread roll with sweet bean paste inside. Or take Doraemon, the famous blue cartoon cat from a Japanese manga series who has a special pouch for his favourite food, dorayaki, a dessert with small pancake-like patties wrapped around a filling of azuki paste.
If I was a superhero, my dessert would be yomogi daifuku, which is mochi flavoured and coloured with mugwort leaves, which are common in Japan, and filled with sweetened azuki paste. Though if I had a special pouch for it, it would always be empty.
The Japanese love their sweets but not in the same way that we do back home. It’s not so much that they have a sweet tooth or have it at the end of the meal. Actually, I have found many prefer salty than sweet, but like everything else that they eat, they like small amounts to eat, to share, and to give away as omiyage.
Omiyage, or gift-giving, is an important part of the culture in Japan and sweets are one of the main things people give as omiyage so it is a big business here.
I was in a department store basement, where all the wonderful food is hidden and a must visit when in Japan, and bought a manju, a small pastry usually filled with azuki paste, from a vendor. It was 100 yen or about $1.19 CDN/.94 USD. The young woman greeted me warmly, repeated my order, and asked me to wait while she got it ready. Before she did this, she served me a warm Japanese tea and a small sweet on a tray while I waited and told me to enjoy it.
I watched her as she carefully placed my manju in a special box, wrapped the box in beautiful paper, sealed it with a special sticker, tied it with ribbon, and put it in a bag. There was no rushing, impatience or irritation that I had just bought one. She did her job carefully and cheerfully. I gave her the money. She said thank you as she bowed deeply to me and presented me with my receipt and package. I felt good about my experience and was excited to try the manju when I got home.
As much as I will remember the delicious food here, I will remember the kindness of friends, strangers, and staff that are happy to have the honour of serving you.
As the famous American writer, poet, and civil rights activist, Maya Angelou said,
“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”
Looking at the Japanese celebration of cherry blossom viewing provides a glimpse into Japanese culture. The Japanese unite with friends and family to enjoy special food under the beauty of the blossoming sakura that is spectacular but short-lived for about two weeks.
Sakura season signifies the beginning of spring and a time of renewal and optimism as it coincides with the beginning of the Japanese fiscal and school year. It also symbolizes a major theme in Buddhism, the impermanence of life, and therefore the importance of being mindful and living in the present.
I watched a Japanese TV program taking place in Tokyo, where a young worker was starving so she grabbed a manju from the box of the store owner. The beautiful box of individually wrapped manju was sent to the owner from a friend in Kyoto. The owner scolded the worker and said it is not the way to appreciate expensive manju. “Let’s make some tea and enjoy it together,” she said. She carefully cut one small manju into six pieces, put out small forks and napkins, and they enjoyed together that one manju with tea and conversation. That is the Japanese way.
It is admirable though I do admit to being so hungry that I have to buy an onigiri or yomogi daifuku on the way home and hide out as I eat it. You rarely see people eating or drinking on the run here. In the several months I have been here and seeing thousands of people in passing, I have only seen a handful of people eating or drinking while in public and it’s usually at certain locations. It is considered rude to not stop while eating, in order to appreciate the food properly and give it the attention and respect it deserves.
Therefore, I try to stop myself when I’m hungry to wait to eat until I get home. This is where I think the Japanese develop their patience and perseverance because it’s tough, and I don’t succeed sometimes.
But when I wait until I come home to make some Japanese tea, carefully unwrap the mochi and eat it mindfully, appreciating its beauty and deliciousness with each bite, I am grateful for the experience, and I come home, truly.
Food is much more than food here. It’s a spiritual experience. And mochi is my teacher. There is the opportunity for mindfulness and gratitude with every encounter with food, whether giving or receiving
I am becoming Japanese with every mochi I eat, and I’m only counting those I eat mindfully. The other ones I count as mistakes. As I say in my cooking classes, the good thing about food is that you can eat your mistakes!
Happy springtime of renewal and optimism where ever you are.
Love, Caroline xo
A Japanese-Canadian chef, author and speaker, I am in Japan finishing my book on “Canadian Vegan Recipes” for Kirasienne publishing in Tokyo, blogging about my taste and other experiences, and eating lots of mochi! The book will be released in Japanese to the Japan marketplace in March 2018.
Originally published at Caroline Ishii.
