Japanese desserts operate on a completely different wavelength from their Western counterparts. Where Western pastry tends toward richness — butter, cream, sugar, chocolate layered in pursuit of decadence — Japanese sweets (wagashi) favour restraint, texture, and subtlety. The sweetness is gentle rather than aggressive. The textures are often soft and yielding. The flavours are earthy and botanical rather than fruity and caramelised.

This difference trips up some Western palates. If you are expecting a chocolate brownie and you get a mochi filled with red bean paste, the initial reaction might be confusion. But approach Japanese desserts on their own terms and they reveal a sophistication that is, I think, unmatched in any other dessert tradition.

Mochi

Mochi is a rice cake made from mochigome, a short-grain glutinous rice that is steamed, pounded, and shaped into a smooth, elastic dough. The traditional pounding process — mochitsuki — involves a large wooden mortar and mallet, with one person pounding and another turning and wetting the dough between strikes. It is vigorous, rhythmic work that is still performed at festivals and celebrations.

The texture of fresh mochi is unique: soft, chewy, and slightly sticky, with an elastic quality that pulls and stretches. It is not quite like any Western food. The closest comparison might be a very soft, unsweetened marshmallow, but that does not fully capture it.

Mochi appears in countless forms:

Daifuku. A ball of mochi wrapped around a sweet filling, most commonly anko (sweet red bean paste). Ichigo daifuku — with a whole strawberry inside — is a spring favourite that balances the sweetness of the bean paste with the tartness of the fruit.

Warabi mochi. Not actually made from mochi rice but from bracken starch. It has a softer, more jelly-like texture and is typically dusted with kinako (roasted soybean flour) and drizzled with kuromitsu (black sugar syrup). It is a summer dessert, served chilled.

Dango. Small balls of mochi served on skewers, often glazed with sweet soy sauce (mitarashi) or coated in sweet red bean paste. These are a standard festival food and one of the most ancient forms of Japanese confectionery.

Mochi ice cream. A modern invention where a ball of ice cream is wrapped in a thin layer of mochi. This has become hugely popular outside Japan and is now widely available in Australian supermarkets. The combination of the cold, creamy ice cream and the soft, chewy mochi works remarkably well.

Matcha

Matcha — finely ground green tea powder — has moved from Japanese tea ceremonies to global mainstream in the space of a decade. Its popularity as a flavouring in desserts is enormous, and for good reason: it provides a distinctive, slightly bitter, vegetal flavour that balances sweetness in a way that nothing else quite replicates.

In desserts, matcha appears in:

Matcha ice cream. Perhaps the most accessible introduction to matcha flavour. Good matcha ice cream should have a noticeable bitterness alongside the sweetness — if it tastes purely sweet, the matcha quality is low.

Matcha tiramisu and cheesecake. Fusion applications where matcha replaces or complements coffee or vanilla. These work better than they have any right to, because matcha’s bitterness functions similarly to espresso in providing a counterpoint to the richness of cream and mascarpone.

Matcha with wagashi. In the traditional context, matcha is whisked into a thick, frothy tea and served alongside a small sweet. The pairing is deliberate: the bitterness of the tea and the sweetness of the wagashi balance each other perfectly.

The quality of matcha varies enormously. Ceremonial-grade matcha is vibrant green, smooth, and sweet with only a mild bitterness. Cooking-grade matcha is duller in colour and more astringent. For desserts, a mid-range culinary matcha works well — it has enough flavour intensity to hold its own against sugar and cream without breaking the bank.

Anko (Sweet Red Bean Paste)

Anko is to Japanese desserts what chocolate is to Western ones: the foundational flavour that appears in everything. It is made by simmering azuki beans with sugar until they break down into a paste. There are two main textures: tsubuan (chunky, with visible bean pieces) and koshian (smooth, strained).

The flavour is earthy, mildly sweet, and slightly nutty — nothing like what most Westerners expect from a “sweet bean.” It is an acquired taste for some, but one that rewards persistence. Good anko has a complexity that processed sugar-based fillings lack.

Anko fills daifuku, dorayaki (small pancakes), taiyaki (fish-shaped cakes), and anpan (sweet bread rolls). It is also served on its own with mochi, shaved ice, and as a topping for toast in Japanese cafes.

Other Japanese Desserts Worth Knowing

Dorayaki. Two small, honey-sweetened pancakes sandwiching a generous layer of anko. Made famous outside Japan by the anime character Doraemon, whose obsession with them is a running plot point. They are soft, sweet, and immensely comforting.

Yokan. A firm jelly made from anko, agar, and sugar. It has a smooth, dense texture and comes in blocks that are sliced to serve. Traditional yokan is a tea ceremony accompaniment, and artisanal versions from Kyoto and Tokyo confectioners are exquisitely crafted.

Castella (kasutera). A sponge cake introduced by Portuguese traders in the 16th century and adopted by Japan, where it evolved into its own distinctive form. Japanese castella is moist, fine-textured, and evenly golden, with a sweetness that is moderate by Western standards.

Purin (pudding). Japanese custard pudding, similar to creme caramel but typically lighter and silkier. It is one of the most popular convenience store desserts in Japan, and the best versions have a barely-set wobble that borders on liquid.

Finding Japanese Desserts in Sydney

Sydney’s Japanese dessert offerings have expanded significantly. Dedicated Japanese bakeries and patisseries in the CBD and inner suburbs produce excellent matcha and anko-based sweets. Several mochi specialists have opened, offering fresh daifuku and mochi ice cream. And the better Japanese restaurants now include thoughtful dessert courses rather than defaulting to green tea ice cream.

The key, as with all Japanese food, is freshness. Mochi that is made that day is a world apart from mochi that has been sitting in a display case for a week. Seek out the places that make small batches and turn them over quickly. The difference is worth the effort.