トントンマン
My family roots are said to be in the traditional Japanese confectionery business, a fact that I have been hearing about since I was a child. Originally, it seems that we were official merchants since the Edo period, but the business was closed before the war, and the shop curtain was burned down during the war. Furthermore, my grandmother, who was a living encyclopedia, passed away about 30 years ago, so now there is no evidence or witnesses, just stories being passed down. However, due to this heritage, our family temple is located in Azabu, so since starting using Tabelog, I have consciously visited and reviewed traditional Japanese confectionery shops in the Azabu-Akasaka-Roppongi area. I enjoyed asking the shop owners about their history and trying to see if there were any discoveries that could be made by following my DNA. Although I didn't come across any significant information, I still hope that one day my DNA will guide me to a discovery while exploring traditional Japanese confectionery shops, not limited to the same area. On this day, during my Tabelog activities in the Kanda area, I took the opportunity to visit this shop located in front of Kanda Station. Kanda Sambondou was founded in Taisho 11 by the first generation, Mr. Iwasaki Nishitaro, who received a branch from the main store of Sambondou in Ningyocho (used and reviewed in December of Heisei 29). The current location is where they started their business. Kanda Station opened in Taisho 8, just three years before that. The current owner seems to be Mrs. Nozomi Akiko, the third generation of the shop, who was previously Ms. Iwasaki. I visited the shop around half past twelve, after completing my Tabelog activities. It was lunchtime, but it seemed like there were fewer people around, perhaps because it was close to the Obon holiday. Normally, it's a place where it's quite difficult to take a photo of the exterior (right in front of the east exit of Kanda Station), but on this day, I was able to take a photo easily. I entered the shop. The storefront is narrow, and the inside of the shop is also quite small. The workshop seems to be on the second floor, but the site itself seems small. Still, considering this prime location, it must have considerable asset value... I digress, but the shop was managed by two female staff members, one of whom seemed to be the owner. The showcase mainly displayed baked sweets such as dorayaki, manju, and chestnut manju, as well as senbei. I couldn't see the daifuku that I was looking for, so I asked, and I was told that they don't sell daifuku during the summer. It was a shame, but there were several summer sweets available, so I purchased a wheat gluten manju for 240 yen. However, the price was quite high. By the way, dorayaki is also priced at 250 yen, so it's expensive. I took it home and enjoyed it as a snack with my wife. Our daughters were at work and school. The wheat gluten manju is individually wrapped in a large bamboo leaf. When you open the package, the scent of the bamboo leaf fills the air. When you spread the bamboo leaf, the scent spreads even more, and inside, small-sized wheat gluten manju sits. I put it in the refrigerator immediately after returning home, but maybe carrying it around in the extreme heat for about an hour wasn't good, as the wheat gluten stuck to the bamboo leaf and was not easy to remove. We managed to peel it off slowly and enjoyed it. Although it's called manju, the surface is made of raw wheat gluten instead of the typical wheat flour skin, and it is filled with sweet bean paste. The sticking was probably due to the raw wheat gluten. The sweet bean paste has a gentle sweetness with a good balance of saltiness, and the cool and refreshing texture when chilled is very delicious. The natural flavor of the wheat gluten also pairs well with it. It truly tasted like the traditional flavor of a long-established shop, but due to its small size, we quickly finished it. At 240 yen, is this it? That's honestly how I felt. When I looked it up, wheat gluten manju is...