
Japanese Desserts
Japanese desserts draw on two broad traditions. Wagashi are traditional confections, often made with rice and sweetened beans, with close ties to seasonal celebrations and tea. Yogashi are Western-style sweets that have become part of everyday life here, from sponge cakes layered with whipped cream to custards and cheesecakes.
This collection includes both. Whether you fell for mochi and taiyaki on a trip to Japan or have only seen them online, you can make them in your own kitchen. I find it fascinating how the same rice and beans can become so many different wagashi, and I love how familiar desserts take on a new character in Japan: matcha brings a pleasantly bitter edge to a creamy cheesecake, and coffee jelly pairs black coffee with a cool pour of cream.
Wagashi
When strawberry season comes around, wagashi shops in Japan fill with people looking for ichigo daifuku, a whole strawberry wrapped in sweet bean paste and soft, milky mochi. If you're new to wagashi, Akita's butter mochi comes together in the microwave, and a batch of anko, always a treat when my mom made it, is the start of daifuku, ohagi and a winter bowl of red bean soup.
Street Food Sweets
These are the sweets of Japan's festival stalls and street vendors, like fish-shaped taiyaki loaded with red bean paste and daigaku imo, chunks of sweet potato in a crisp sesame candy shell. If Demon Slayer got you curious about mitarashi dango, I tasted the original at the Kyoto tea house credited with creating its sweet soy glaze, which has been open beside Shimogamo Shrine since 1922.
Cakes and Café Sweets
Japan takes its strawberries so seriously that prized berries can sell for $20 apiece, and in the ichigo sando they're tucked between soft milk bread and fluffy whipped cream. They're also the star of Japan's strawberry shortcake, which swaps the American biscuit for a light sponge layered with whipped cream, and it's the cake that shows up on Christmas Eve, too.
Matcha Desserts
Basque cheesecake has been such a hit in Japan that even 7-Eleven has sold it, and my matcha version has a caramelized top over a barely set, vivid green center. The ice cream turns out velvety with nothing more than a bowl and a whisk, and the crinkle cookies hide a soft, bittersweet middle under a crackled sugar shell.

















