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Strawberry Daifuku is a classic wagashi—a delicate Japanese sweet made of chewy mochi rice dough wrapped around sweet red bean paste and a fresh strawberry. This treat perfectly balances subtle sweetness with refreshing fruitiness and a soft, chewy texture. It’s an easy-to-make dessert that captures the essence of seasonal Japanese confections and pairs wonderfully with a cup of green tea.
Ingredients
- 6 fresh strawberries washed and dried
- 100 g sweet red bean paste anko
- 100 g glutinous rice flour mochiko
- 50 g sugar
- 120 ml water
- Potato starch or cornstarch for dusting
Instructions
- Wrap each strawberry with a small amount of sweet red bean paste (anko). Set aside.
- In a microwave-safe bowl, mix mochiko, sugar, and water until smooth.
- Microwave the mixture for 1 minute, stir, then microwave in 30-second bursts until it becomes a thick, sticky dough (about 2–3 minutes total).
- Generously dust a clean surface with starch. Turn the mochi dough onto the surface and let it cool just enough to handle.
- Divide the dough into 6 equal portions. Flatten each portion into a round shape.
- Place one anko-wrapped strawberry in the center of each flattened dough. Carefully wrap the mochi around the strawberry and pinch to seal the edges.
- Lightly dust the finished daifuku with starch to prevent sticking. Serve fresh on the same day for the best taste and texture.
Notes
🥮 Wagashi – how I fell in love with Japan’s secret desserts
Okay, this might sound dramatic—but wagashi changed the way I look at sweets forever.
🏮 First encounter
Picture this: I’m wandering through a Kyoto alley on a rainy spring day. Pretty cliché, I know—but it actually happened! The air smelled like wet stones and fresh green tea. Then, through a wooden shop window, I spotted tiny sweets shaped like cherry blossoms and maple leaves. I was like, “What on earth?” They looked more like art than food. I walked in.🎎 Why they’re surprising
I expected something super sweet. Instead, wagashi are subtly sweet—delicate. It’s not a sugar bomb. It’s more like a gentle whisper. And the texture? Incredible. One moment it’s soft, the next it’s chewy, then firm. It hit me like, “This is dessert… but different.”🍁 Seasons, stories, and shapes
Here’s what blew me away: wagashi change with the seasons. Cherry blossom-shaped in spring, chestnut-inspired in autumn. There’s this Japanese word “shun”, meaning “in season.” Wagashi totally nails that idea. One evening, I shared a sweet shaped like a red leaf with a friend as we watched fall leaves drifting down. We both went quiet. That moment sticks with me.🍵 Tea + snack = Moment of zen
Wagashi often come with matcha. Bitter green tea paired with these mellow sweets—balance in a bite. It’s practice, really. You take a little, sip tea. Pause. Reflect. I once sat in a tea house in Uji, holding a tiny wagashi, feeling that calming quiet. I was hooked.🥢 Simple ingredients, bold experience
But here’s the kicker: ingredients are basic—rice, beans, sugar, maybe seaweed. Yet they taste complex. It’s like someone turned everyday pantry stuff into mindfulness.- Mochi – chewy rice dough
- Anko – sweet red bean paste
- Kanten – plant-based jelly
- Kinako – roasted soybean flour
- Seasonal extras – chestnuts, pumpkin, matcha
🗾 Where to find wagashi in Japan
- Small, family-run wagashi shops (tiny, charming, seasonal)
- Tea houses during actual tea ceremonies
- Department store food floors (even Tokyo’s biggest have dreamy sweets underground!)
- Convenience stores—yes, even cheap daifuku and dorayaki can be legit
