Aya Usagi White Bean Cakes

One of the big differences between my blogging in Japan about Japanese food as compared to doing so in the U.S. is that it costs me at least 50% more. This sucks, but, as someone accustomed to paying at least 50% more for imported food when I lived in Japan, it's something I'm quite accustomed to.

The other difference is that I feel more like I have to ration my treats because I can't get them as cheaply or easily as I once did. This is one of the reasons that I haven't hoovered up my stack of manju from Nippon-ya like an anteater that has a mental health disorder. I imagine that, for anteaters, having a vacuum cleaner complex is probably similar to having a Napoleon complex among humans. I am all powerful! All ants will be consumed through my magnificence protuberance like Dorothy during a Kansas tornado!

I'm sure nobody comes to my blog to hear me inhabit the reality of anteaters with mental health challenges - well, maybe a few bodies do - so I will get on with talking about bean cakes. I waited until well past the point of reason to eat the last one and savored every little morsel. Unfortunately, though these were quite fresh when I opened the box, holding out on the last one until after the box had been opened for nearly a month meant the last one was a bit stale. This isn't any sort of indictment of the cakes because they held out for a long, long time. However, I do recommend you eat them within three weeks of opening the box. The oxygen absorber can only do so much.

This was, by far, my very favorite of my haul from Nippon-ya. The cakes themselves (when not well-aged)  have a soft, thin, cake covering a good portion of white beans that are generously sweetened, but not cloying. They have a lovely flavor which brings to mind butter, vanilla, and yellow cake, but doesn't really fit any of those descriptions. Sometimes, these types of cakes are a bit bland and mushy, but this definitely has a flavor profile. It's not incredibly deep as it tends to be just that indescribable flavor and sugar, but it's very satisfying.

The beans in these have a slightly fudgey texture to them, especially when they're fresher and moister than my antiquated final cake. I'm guessing this is delivered courtesy of the white adzuki and kidney beans as well as the multiple sugars (as sugar adds moisture)

Where I bought it: Nippon-ya (San Francisco)

Weight: 11.6 oz.

Price: I don't recall exactly, but I think it was $12.95.

Osaka Sikasen Mochi Assort

Nippon-ya did a survey and this box of sweets was their most popular. I can see why that is the case if only based on the packaging. It has beautiful wrapping and wrappers. The fact that I even think about things like that shows just how much I became affected by the culture of style over substance while living in Japan. I was once like you, dear reader, and felt that this sort of business that makes things look pretty was wasteful. What really matters is what is inside, right? Right?

I don't know if Japan changed me or if age did, but I really was excited to try these based on the variety of content as well as the packaging. The main difference between what I bought in Japan and these are that they are very, very small. In fact, I was stunned at how tiny they are as they are about half the size of what I'd get in Japan.

If nothing else, the packages are fairly descriptive of the contents so you don't have the same problem you have when deciding which chocolates have whatever filling in a box of candy in the U.S.

Anko (red bean paste):

This is the most old-fashioned of options for mochi so I didn't expect it to have an aroma, and it did not.  It's a classic pairing of flavorless, chewy mochi with red bean paste in the middle. Since these are small sweets, it's a little hard to know for sure, but I think this has tsubu an or coarse ("pebbly") bean paste in the middle. The mochi is nice and chewy and the powder on the outside makes it sweet before you taste the filling. The filling is earthy and slightly grainy. I noticed the "chew" on the mochi on this one was a bit tougher, but not in a bad way. It is just a bit thicker and less fine than in some other sweets. I liked this in the way that I like Reese's peanut butter cups. It's a classic, old-fashioned combo that hits familiar notes.

Shiro an (white bean paste):

This one was very similar to the anko one except the filling is finer, slightly sweeter, and less earthy. The "beany" nature just whispers at you rather than announces itself firmly and definitively. This is more of a textural pleasure than anything else. I love the feeling of the bean paste on my tongue and the chew of the mochi. However, this was definitely the least impressive flavor-wise of the bunch.

Sakura:

It's hard to believe that the Japanese don't use artificial colors when you see something like this sakura mochi. It's a bordering on radioactive pink. It's the kind of thing that even the most twee princess might find a bit much for her tastes. Nonetheless, I hear you can do marvelous things with beet juice, and perhaps that, rather than fallout from Fukushima, is responsible for the coloration.

The first thing I did was give this a whiff expecting it to smell heavily of "cherry blossom". It didn't smell like anything, surprisingly. The flavor, on the other hand, was very intense. It was quite sweet and very floral. In fact, the taste bordered on "soapy." I'm betting it wasn't even all that sweet, but that cloying flavor upped the sense of it being more sugary than it was. Sakura isn't generally my favorite, but I did enjoy the Sakura Harajuku mochi. This was okay, but definitely hit more of the notes that make sakura something I tend not to seek out.

Sesame:

This was the only mochi with a scent. In fact, as soon as I cut open the package, I smelled the sesame seeds. It smells awesome and the seeds lend a wonderful nutty flavor to the sweet. It also gives it a nice crunchy exterior. The first bite was completely overwhelmed by the sesame flavor, but the second brought out the beans. This was far and away my favorite of the group, though I can't say that I disliked any of them.

In terms of this assortment, the main point that I noticed is that the Harajuku Mochi was softer and fresher in feel, or made differently. These had a more elastic chew. I'm inclined to believe that they are just a differently made mochi because they seemed quite fresh. Mochi that is going stale tends to get a bit hard and these were in no way hard, though one of them had a few cracks in the side (not from drying out, but from torsion).

I liked this, and I do not regret buying it at all. It's a solid group of old-fashioned flavor combinations, but I probably wouldn't order it again for several years. One of the things that I heard time and again while binge-watching "The Great British Bake-off" was that, if you do a classic, it has to be superb and perfect. These are solid, but they are not superb and perfect. That being said, since I hadn't had these types of sweets for a long time, I was really grateful to have them on hand for the duration of the box. It'll just take awhile for nostalgia to enter the equation again. I also think that these are close to ideal if you want to give someone a box of manju as a souvenir or gift.

Where I bought it: Nippon-ya (San Francisco)

Weight: 14.5 oz.

Price: I don't recall exactly, but I think it was $14.95

Random Picture #212

My husband and I recently attended a festival in Japantown in San Jose (as I mentioned in last week's random picture). When I got to these festivals, I'm interested in both what sort of Japanese things are on offer and how those things differ from what I experienced in Japan. I'm not a purist about such things, mind you. I'm not going to poo-poo something that is inauthentic. I experienced enough "American" things which has been adapted for Japanese tastes in Japan to know that what sells in one place in one form doesn't sell in other places. Changes are necessary.

The picture above is manju (Japanese sweets with sweet bean fillings and mochi - pounded rice cake - exteriors). I noted that the manju on offer at the festival was jewel-toned and much darker in color than that in Japan. It also included flavors I didn't tend to see there like peanut butter and coconut. The color coding on these was, at least in part, to help people separate the flavors. My guess is that it was also to stop them from all looking like greyish blobs as sometimes that is how they look when not coated in some sort of powder or having a strong, colorful flavor element mixed in. I also noted that these were bigger than Japanese sweets, but that's no shock either.

The truth is that, though I don't judge the American alternations negatively and I understand where they come from, I suffer as much from the tendency to like what I know better than variations. Since I experienced Japanese food in Japan, I don't tend to like the American (or other) variations as much or feel drawn to them. They don't taste "right" to me, but I know this isn't that they're "wrong", but just a reflection of what I grew accustomed to.

Usapyon Manju

There's this thing in America where the kids like this singer named Justin Bieber. I'm not sure what the appeal is because he looks like just another pretty boy teen idol to me, but his face is all over school supplies and he gets mentioned a lot here on the web. It's one of those things which I'll never really "get" because it's a corner of pop culture that I have no interest in exploring.

In Japan, similarly, there was a large swath of the pop culture that I knew nothing about and that was in anime. Had I followed it, I would have known what "usapyon" meant. I knew that "usagi" meant "rabbit". "Pyon", apparently, is the sound a rabbit makes in Japan. Animals make the same sounds in every country, but the way humans hear them varies. I looked this word up and there's a character in a cartoon that translates to something like "pretty cure" that is called "Usapyon". It's a stuffed bunny toy that comes to life for some reason every once in awhile. So, now, I understand why these bunny-shaped cakes are named "usapyon" instead of something like "usagi-ju" or the Japanese equivalent of "bunny bun".

I found these cakes at Mitsuwa Japanese market for $4.99. That is actually on the cheap side for bean cakes. They were on sale, which may mean that they won't be around for long or simply that I got a good deal the day that I was there. This brand of bean cake was one that I never encountered in Japan, but that's no shocker. There are myriads of little manufacturers and bakers who have limited market penetration and the chances that you'll encounter all of them or any particular one is pretty small. The same goes for the U.S., and I'm sure other countries.

I chose these not only because they were reduced in price, but also because they have white beans in them. It's actually somewhat challenging to find something which doesn't have red beans. The main difference is that the white ones are milder in flavor and lack the earthiness of the red ones. These carry more of the flavors of the other ingredients.

The bunny "ears" and "eyes" that you see are only on the plastic package. Once they are removed, the "bunny" is represented by bumps alone. Inside is somewhat soft, tender mashed bean that has been mixed with sugar and other flavors. One of the ingredients is condensed milk powder, which may be lending sweetness and richness. They have more of a sweet, floury, baked good sense to them. They remind me a bit of vanilla pancakes without the syrup. Though sweeter than a red bean cake, they are not as sweet as most cakes and cookies.

I really enjoyed these and would definitely buy them again. They brought back very positive memories of my time in Japan both in terms of the adorable form factor and the taste.

Random Picture #160

Sometimes, a picture speaks for itself. 

If you can't hear, then I'll have it speak a little louder:

Of course, it's hard for us to know exactly what it is trying to say when it says things like this.

However, if you listen very carefully, I think that this is what it is saying: "We need a better translator."

Random Picture #156

Note the cool sample on the right which shows plastic versions so they don't get all gross and rotted while on display. 

One of the first images of Japanese food that was burned into my memory was of a bean cake that looked like a chick. There is a famous manju that used to be advertised on television quite frequently so I have the entire thing along with the inane music that accompanied it burned into my brain. I'm sure it's filed in the same spot as the "Meow Mix" commercials in which cats sing a tune by uttering nothing more than "meow". And don't blame me if you watch the linked commercial and want to drink until you kill all of the involved neurons.

The version shown in this picture, P-chan, is not the one in the commercial I used to see. This is a cheaper variety sold at a discount snack shop in Omotesando, though it looks pretty much exactly the same as every other chick-shaped bean cake. They have white bean in them instead of red. I think most foreign folks find the white ones more palatable than the red. Incidentally, I like to think of these as the Japanese version of "Peeps". ;-)

Tochinomi Daifuku (chestnut and red bean)

People have been telling me about various "Japan Towns" since I returned to the U.S. I'm not sure what I expected when I heard about such areas, but it really was not what I experienced. I guess that I expect "Japan Town" to feel like, well, Japan. That doesn't mean I expect that Japanese people will be milling about, staring at their phones like zombies and gawking at the white girl with piles of red-blonde hair. The truth is that, I am not sure what was missing, but I think that the atmosphere created by the crowds, cramped spaces, the frenetic activity of employees trying to look like they're performing their tasks perfectly, the constant cleaning and tidying, and the conversations in Japanese.

I've been to two "Japan Towns" since coming back home. The first was in San Jose, and I had the misfortune to go there on a Monday when, apparently, it is mainly shut down. This was a big disappointment because one of the reasons I went there was to visit their traditional sweets shop, Shuei-do. I'm not sure, but they appear to have vanished from the Japan Town web site and may have gone out of business. All I know is that the Japan Town in San Jose was so tiny that I haven't been motivated to go back on another day.

The other Japan Town that I went to recently was in San Francisco, and it has more to offer, but is still largely just a shopping arcade plus a few other shops located near the Peace Pagoda. It is definitely more interesting than the San Jose equivalent, but not as much as I'd hoped. I think I simply expect too much. As an oasis of "Japan-ness" in the U.S., it's actually pretty good. There are a lot of Japanese restaurants, several Japanese stores including a bigger, nicer Daiso than the one I frequent, a gaming arcade, and some sweets and grocery stores. However, it's all pretty streamlined. You don't get much of a real ethnic feel from it. There aren't little grubby mom and pop shops for the most part (as I hear you may experience in China Town). Of course, the Japanese aren't exactly known for doing "grubby". 

The best part for me was Benkyodo, a place selling hand-made Japanese sweets, and Nippon-ya. Nippon-ya is where I procured today's snack for review. The latter offers boxed sweets which are pretty much the same as those sold in train stations, the airport, and souvenir shops around Tokyo. It is the sort of thing I thought I'd never encounter after leaving Japan. I was a kid in a Japanese candy store when I say stacks of gift-wrapped boxes of sweets topped by the usual plastic display of samples with cutaways to show you what was inside.

There were so many options and I wanted to buy them all, but I can't really justify doing so when I am the only one who is likely to consume the contents. The prices were in the $9-$10 range for boxes with 16-24 pieces. This is incredibly reasonable and in line with the average prices in Japan. Most of the time, these cost about 1000 yen ($11.21) per box in Japan, often more than that. Someone on Yelp said that they felt these were "expensive", and they may appear to be so by U.S. standards, but I was more than happy to fork over $9.25 for a box of 20 small daifuku.

I agonized about what flavor to buy since there were many that looked appealing, but ultimately went for chestnut since it is one of my seasonal favorite. I figure the fruit flavors are likely to stick around until spring or summer, and this will vanish with the cold weather. The display promised chestnut bits in red bean paste with a hint of caramel. As you can see from the cutaway above, there aren't any chestnut bits to speak of in the one that is shown here. This was the third one I ate, and I haven't found any pieces in any of them. 

The flavor balance is definitely heavy on the mochi and red bean side and there is absolutely a hint of caramel. The chestnut flavor is very subtle, and you actually have to be looking for it. Overall, the flavor profile is not intense, but tends to settle in slowly. These are sweet enough without going overboard. I only wish there was a stronger chestnut component. The ingredients list starts with "sugar", followed by rice, and red bean and only then does it get to chestnut followed by emulsifiers and caramel. You can see what it's not so big with the chestnut. 

The main reason for selecting daifuku in my opinion is the interplay of textures, not so much the strength of the flavors. The soft chewy pillow of mochi contrasts with the smooth paste inside. This is light on the filling, but the mochi is fresh and soft. It's definitely very much on par with relatively shelf stable mochi in Tokyo. When I say "relatively shelf stable", I mean that there's an expiration date in a few months, not next year. This one expires on March 2, 2013. 

I like these, but I can't say that I adore them. I have no regrets about buying them and will enjoy eating them slowly but surely. They absolutely remind me of some of the Japanese sweets I purchased in Japan in that not every one was exactly what I wanted it to be, but they all tended to be decent enough. The main failing in these is not enough filling and not enough chestnut. They're good, but they could have, in my estimation, "should have", been better.

Random Picture #134

There's a huge snack shop in the Ameyokocho shopping district in Ueno, Tokyo that is so dizzying in its vastness (both because it has two stores and two floors) that I couldn't drink it all in when I went there. It not only carries a plethora of imports, but also about every sort of Japanese manju (traditional sweet) that one might imagine. The shop is called "Niki no Kashi" and is well worth a visit if you find yourself visiting Tokyo.

On the occasion that my husband and I visited, the big challenge was always to choose from among the huge variety of options at hand such that we could actually consume what we purchased before said foods acquired house guests (of the bacterial or insect variety). Since things are relatively cheap there, it's that much harder to walk away. The banana manju pictured above was a tricky one because my husband likes all things banana and it has a dopey saying on the box. "It finished only using the delicious banana selected carefully. Please enjoy momentary tea time." I guess you wouldn't want your tea time to drag on too terribly long.

We didn't end up buying this because I'm not a huge fan of banana snacks, even if they are crafted with delicious and carefully selected fruit.

Random Picture #86

Click to see a larger image with more detail.

Halloween quietly passed Japan by, which is reasonable considering they don't actually celebrate it. However, they do know how to take advantage of a marketing opportunity and every year I see more and more items designed to get the Japanese into the Halloween spirit. Well, that's not exactly true. I don't think they know what the spirit of All Hallow's Eve is and I'm pretty sure that, if they did, it wouldn't really suit Japanese sensibilities. I'm not only talking about how knocking on strangers' doors for free candy would rub them the wrong way, but the "tricks" aspect would be viewed as troubling others in a thoroughly unacceptable manner. Besides, in a country that goes for the toilet paper in a crisis, I'm pretty sure they wouldn't feel great about wasting it TP'ing.

Among the plethora of cute Halloween-themed treats, I was especially enchanted by these pumpkin-shaped manju (traditional Japanese sweets). I even considered buying them, but three are more than I can eat in a short time and this is the type of thing best consumed fresh. 

Random Picture #78

You can tell that the end of the summer is at hand when the Japanese sweets change over to autumnal vegetables and fruit. The moment I'm waiting for is for marron (chestnut) to start showing up everywhere. Though they aren't quite at the critical mass stage, sweet potato is making a strong showing already. This basket was on the floor of Seiyu supermarket in preparation for adding them to the shelves. At the top center are three types of sweet potato manju. I would have bought them, but I didn't feel right snapping them out of the basket. It wouldn't feel exactly like "stealing", but it seemed like improper snacking protocol.

Random Picture 45

The Ryoma Sakamoto (a political revolutionary in the mid-1800's) theming of foods has not disappeared yet, despite having been around for most of the previous year. I saw this display of regional Japanese sweets and cookies at a local supermarket. One of the great benefits of using the image of someone long-dead with no family to claim rights to his image is that you can splatter his face anywhere and everywhere without offering a slice of the profit pie to anyone else.

I think that we're bound to see this fad finally run out of steam in 2011 as the documentary on Japanese T.V. that inspired it is certain to be fading in memory and I'm sure people feel less inspired to buy snacks by his stern-looking face than they once did.

Marukyo Seika Manjuu Variety Pack

Japanese food has a reputation for freshness and Japanese people value it, yet you do find that there are a fair number of foods that are prepared and sold in a state which is anything but. I'd been eyeballing this variety pack of manjuu (various bean cakes) for quite some time, but I'd been resisting it because I knew they were going to be dry. These were relatively cheap for the number of very small cakes (18 for 250 yen/$2.78), so I figured I'd take the plunge and give them a try. I'm trying to branch out into snack areas that I haven't covered much and manjuu has been rather neglected.

I'm not sure what the target demographic is supposed to be for this product or how people are supposed to regard them. Do you keep them on hand for guests who pop in for tea? Do you keep them around for your kids or grandma to have as a snack with tea? I can say that they aren't high quality enough to serve formally or to give as gifts. That doesn't mean they are bad, but it does mean that they are second-rate, consumer-level manjuu.

The manufacturer, Marukyo Seika, makes a variety of bean-filled treats including selling all of the components of this variety pack in single flavor packs. If one of these is a hit, I can then buy a whole bag of them if I like. One of the appealing points of these cakes is supposed to be the appearance. You'll note that 3 of them have fairly nice designs and the ones which are ugly lumps stay hidden from view on the package cover.

Red bean mix:


This is the biggest of the cakes at a little over 5 cm (about 2 in.) in diameter. There are only 2 of them in the package and each is 100 calories. After you get to the inside, it smells of red beans. Yes, that's quite a surprise. The beans are very dense and moist and have a pleasant taste. The cake is appreciably, but not overly, sweet and the exterior cake has almost no flavor of its own and its texture is indistinguishable from the moist bean filling. The beans are very finely mashed and densely packed so this would be good for someone who doesn't like the texture of beans but enjoys the flavor.

Chestnut:


This is designed to resemble a chestnut with a top that has been brushed with egg or some other wash to make the top brown more heavily and tiny seeds across the bottom. There were only two of these in the package as they were some of the larger cakes. The smell you get, even when it is cut open, is most of the cake exterior which is thin, pliable and flavorless. The interior is very dry. It's almost like densely packed powder with some somewhat firmer bits of chestnut in it. The flavor was very good, modestly sweet chestnut flavor, but the texture too dry. This was 74 calories and 5 cm (1.9) wide at the longest points.

Milk Chestnut:


This variety had a more cake-like exterior with a better texture and it seemed to also carry some classic flavors like butter (or margarine). It was slightly sweeter than the aforementioned chestnut one, but had a somewhat less dry interior. For those who are squeamish about bean cake flavors and texture, this might be a better bet. This is blandly nice. There were 4 of these and each is a mere 43 calories. They are 5 cm x 3 cm (1.9 in. x 1.1 in.).

Soba manju:


This doesn't smell like anything in particular. It has a cake-like smell and the texture is moist and almost doughy. It's quite sweet with a subtle bean flavor. These are only 40 calories because they're so tiny, about 3 cm (1.2 in.) in diameter.

Green Tea:


This looks, smells, and is the same size as the soba manju. It's also only 40 calories. The main difference is the very subtle green tea flavor which tends to come across mainly as a roasted flavor. It's actually pretty good. It's a green tea manju for those who don't like strong green tea flavors. Like the soba version, it's also quite moist and has a doughy texture.

I had the highest hopes for the chestnut one, but it actually was one of the least appealing due to its parched interior and somewhat leathery exterior shell. The one I liked best was the soba manju because it was moistest and had a pleasant flavor. The second best one was the red bean mix, again, because of the moister interior.

This was a nice enough mix, though definitely not the best bean cake experience one can have. You can get better off of the same shelves in the market that these are sold on, but you can't necessarily get the same low price, longevity and variety. The two types of bean cakes that I reviewed previously were much better than these, but they also cost a lot more and are not built to last. I probably wouldn't buy these again, but that's only because I have a lot of other better options. It's not that these are bad in any way. They simply aren't great.

Halloween Manju (Pumpkin and Sweet Potato)

I usually don't post on Saturday, but this is a special extra for Halloween. A few weeks ago, my husband and I picked up some fresh manju (cake filled with sweetened bean or other traditional fillings) at a shop near the local train station. They were cute, and we both like manju. The orange one is kaboucha or Japanese pumpkin and the brown one is sweet potato.

These sorts of sweets are made exclusively by one shop and cannot be bought just anywhere. They are, essentially, like the product of a bakery. That is why this is a special post rather than a real review. Not only can my readers not buy these unless they happen to visit the same shop as us (or the same chain), but the chance that this exact same treat will be around at this time next year is pretty low. Mainly, this is just a one-off for some pictures of the type of cute seasonal fare you can get in Japan.


The pumpkin one has a bean/pumpkin mixture. I thought it tasted strongly and pleasantly of Japanese pumpkin (like a butternut squash), but my husband couldn't taste the pumpkin element at all. He said it was pleasant and nicely sweet, but couldn't really pick out the pumpkin. I ended up eating half of his as well as all of mine (the sweet potato one).


The sweet potato one has a chocolate exterior and sweet potato mix interior. You can see little bits of mashed sweet potato in it. The outside coating was surprisingly intense in cocoa flavor and overwhelmed the sweet potato flavor at first, but it was revealed a bit more fully after the first bite.

Both of these were fresh, moist, and really tasty. I think the cake exterior, which is very moist and a bit gummy (which sounds bad, but isn't), is made from yam flour. If you visit Japan, this is exactly the sort of thing you want to try from local shops and eat while it's absolutely fresh. You really can't beat this sort of experience, and it's the type of thing that isn't nearly as good the next day.

Happy Halloween to all of my kind readers!