Mont Blanc (chestnut cream cake)

Updated: September 7, 2025 | Marc Matsumoto | 106 Comments

4.34 from 3 votes

One of the things that makes Japanese food culture so interesting is that unless you’re eating grilled or simmered seafood, it probably originated outside of Japan. Tempura (Portuguese), Ramen (Chinese), and Karei Raisu (Indian) are just a few examples of borrowed food. For such a tradition oriented country, it amazes me how quickly they assimilate

Recipe

One of the things that makes Japanese food culture so interesting is that, unless you're eating grilled or simmered seafood, it probably originated outside of Japan. Tempura (Portuguese), Ramen (Chinese), and Karei Raisu (Indian) are just a few examples of borrowed food. For such a tradition oriented country, it amazes me how quickly they assimilate food into the national repertoire. As food migrates there, it undergoes a transformation and takes on a new life as a different dish unto itself. Purists may argue it's not authentic, but I call it the journey of food.

Baked goods, with the exception of Casutela (of Portuguese origin), come almost exclusively from France. Heck, the Japanese word for bread is "pahn" ("pain" spelled in French). Shoe Kureamu (Choux à la Crème), Kuroasan (Croissant), and Monburan (Mont Blanc) are all staples of any Japanese bakery and Kureipu (Crêpe) is a common snack on the streets of Tokyo; and if you can get past the ridiculous spelling, they're all good. Kureipu for example aren't soft and tender like a proper French one; they're sweet and crisp, shaped like a cone and filled with fruit, cream, chocolate and even cheesecake.

But this post is about Mont Blanc. No, not the tall mountain in the Alps. I'm talking about the cake. Well, actually the original is made with meringues, but like all the other dishes, this too went through some changes. While each bakery makes it slightly differently, at its heart, Monburan is a soft layer of cake with a pillowy mound of chestnut cream, all topped with strands of sweet nutty chestnut puree. It's creamy, sweet and earthy with 3 different textures in each bite. Hands down my favorite cake.

I think I've mentioned before that I'm not much of a baker, and there's a good reason for that. I hate measuring things, I'm impatient, and I like to take shortcuts. That's a classic recipe for disaster in the realm of baking, but for this cake, I made an exception. Since I've never actually made a genoise before (and have heard horror stories akin to those told about soufflés), I followed Tartelette's recipe to the letter for the cake. This was also the first time I've picked up a pastry bag since I was 10 or 11, so apologies for the shameful piping, but they taste just like the ones you'd get in a depachika bakery.

I know passing something as viscous as chestnut puree through a double mesh strainer sounds like a real pain (believe me it is), but don't skip this, and don't substitute a single mesh strainer or food mill. To get the smooth velvety consistency, it has to be passed through a very fine mesh. I found that working with small amounts and using the blade of a rubber spatula (with the handle removed) to force it through worked the best.

special equipment:

pastry bag medium round tip and a large round tip

jellyroll pan (18" X 13")

double mesh strainer (very small holes)

food processor

stand mixer

📖 Recipe