如月 来夏
This chilled mitarashi (sweet soy sauce) is famous for selling out within seconds once reservation slots are opened. It has yet to win a single battle. It is only available for purchase through reservation, with no direct sales at the storefront. It used to be available for purchase at the store, but due to its overwhelming popularity, production couldn't keep up and it became reservation-only. Alongside "Shiono," it is a staple of Akasaka's traditional sweets, known for being beloved by the likes of Steve Jobs. As an Apple enthusiast, it's almost like a sacred place. Located on a grand street descending from Akasaka towards Nogizaka, the impressive appearance of the venerable store, made of granite, makes one straighten their collar. The friendly and elegant service of the owner warms the heart, and each traditional sweet can be purchased individually. With one customer ahead of me, I browsed the store while waiting. There were books about the connection with Jobs placed near the waiting chairs, so I flipped through them. I purchased Akasaka Mochi @220 x 2, Azuki Bean Daifuku @250, Lemon Daifuku @250, Mizumanju (water cake) @250, and Mizu Daifuku (water daifuku) @250. Despite buying only these items, I was impressed by the careful packaging. The Akasaka Mochi wrapped in a furoshiki cloth. This shape may remind many of the "Kikyo-ya" Shingen Mochi, but it was actually originated here. The correct way to eat it is to spread out the cloth, open it to reveal the Akasaka Mochi, sprinkle it generously with kinako (toasted soybean flour), and enjoy. Searching for how to eat Shingen Mochi on YouTube may show similar methods, but it was quite shocking the first time I saw it, like the Columbus egg. The point is that the mochi is already flavored without the need for additional black syrup. The Azuki Bean Daifuku is more like a bean-filled daifuku. It's not common to see such large pieces of red beans in daifuku. The "manju" that Jobs desired is this Lemon Daifuku. In Western countries, all traditional sweets are called "manju," causing some frustration for us Japanese when trying to explain. The Lemon Daifuku has a playful touch for a long-established store. The Mizu Daifuku, resembling a wheat gluten manju, and the Mizumanju, like agar, are both summer sweets. A new genre called "Top 100 Traditional Sweets Stores" has been established, and this store has been honored with inclusion. When exploring various stores, one can somewhat understand that the evaluation is not just based on taste and service, but also on the history, background, and anecdotes of the store. In that sense, the traditional sweets category seems to be well-targeted.