Minazuki – Seasonal Sweets for June

Time flies—we’re already halfway through the year. Every June, I return to a quiet ritual that helps me slow down: making Minazuki, a traditional Japanese sweet that invites me to pause, reflect, and reconnect with the season.

Minazuki is also the traditional name for June in Japan, meaning “the month of water.” It reflects the rainy season when rice fields are nourished and full.

Minazuki (水無月), a traditional Japanese sweet in June

In Kyoto, a Shinto ritual called Nagoshi no Harae is held at shrines on June 30th. This purification ceremony is meant to wash away the “sins and impurities” accumulated in the first half of the year. On that day, people eat the sweet called Minazuki and pray for good health and fortune. The triangular shape of the sweet symbolizes ice, once precious for staying cool in summer. The red azuki beans are believed to ward off evil spirits.

Made from white Uiro-mochi topped with sweet red beans and cut into triangles, Minazuki may look simple, but it takes several days to prepare. I always make sure to carve out time for it in my calendar.

The red beans are simmered gently in water and sugar, then dried overnight. The next day, the process is repeated: simmering, drying, and repeating. It’s time-consuming and, to be honest, a little tedious. But it’s a sweet that can only be enjoyed during this season, and I find myself looking forward to it each year.

One of the quiet joys of June is wrapping the finished Minazuki in a hydrangea-patterned furoshiki, a nod to the flower of the season. I carry it to class and share it with my tea teachers and fellow students.

Minazuki, wrapped in a hydrangea-patterned furoshiki

Japan is rich in ancient customs deeply tied to the rhythms of nature. These preparations take time and care, and in our fast-paced lives, they can feel like a burden. But I’ve come to believe that doing something slowly and with intention is a form of quiet luxury.

Wearing a kimono, sitting silently in a tea room, and sharing seasonal sweets with a bowl of matcha. These are simple moments, but they warm the heart and calm the spirit.

These rituals, passed down for generations, follow the cycles of the sun and moon. They remind me of where I am in the rush of modern life. We now live in a world where it’s hard to imagine life without computers or smartphones. I don’t know how far technology will go, but I do know this: I want to stay grounded. I want to focus on what’s meaningful, right in front of me, and savor it fully.

Wishing you health, peace, and joy in the second half of the year.

Hydrangea (紫陽花)-June flower

Winter's Pleasure - The Warmth of a Winter Tea Bowl

This winter in New York has been relatively warm, and it seems like today will be even warmer. However, it's only the end of February, so it's still cold, sometimes below freezing. Lately, I've been enjoying matcha in a winter bowl, which is cylindrical shape and typically used during the coldest month of the year, February.

Winter tea bowl (Tsutsu Chawan) and Bamboo tea whisk (Chasen)

The small opening in the tea bowl is designed to keep the matcha warm and prevent it from cooling down quickly. As you carefully pour in the hot water, place the bamboo tea whisk, and fold the linen cloth, simply watching the steam slowly rising from the tea bowl warms your heart. And now, you begin to make matcha.

The Way of Tea known as the tea ceremony always reminds us of the importance of savoring the present moment. It seems like a simple concept, but it reflects the depth and spiritual richness of the Japanese people in the past.

 I believe that life today is much richer than it was in the past. However, I feel that this is different from whether the human spirit has become richer.

While I can't wait for the arrival of warm spring weather, I've also realized that some pleasures can only be enjoyed during the cold season. Perhaps one of the greatest joys of a cold winter is seeing steam rise from a tea bowl or cup, feeling its soothing warmth wrap around your hands, and enjoying a hot beverage. Even if it's snowing outside, our bodies and hearts are filled with warmth. Let's enjoy the beauty of the cold season and the simple pleasures it brings for a bit while.

February Snow in Kent, CT

The Sunken Hearth Opening, and Matcha

The beginning of November a very important season for those of us who learn of the way of tea, known as the tea ceremony.

Around this time, we have a special tea gathering to celebrate the opening of the sunken hearth, known as Robiraki in Japanese. ‘Ro (炉)’ refers to the sunken hearth, a square pit set beneath the flooring, flush with the tatami. ‘Biraki'(開き)’means to open, so Robiraki literally marks the opening of the sunken hearth.

Ukiyo-e print (浮世絵) depicting the art of the tea ceremony by Toshitaka Mizuno (水野年方 1866-1903) 

During winter, we use the sunken hearth instead of the floor brazier. The sunken hearth is an essential feature of a tea room and located almost centrally in the tea room, creating a warm atmosphere as everyone gathers around it. The Robiraki tea gathering signifies the initiation of a new cycle in the tea ceremony year. Almost two weeks ago, I attended a Robiraki tea gathering at our school, Urasenke Chanoyu Center, a delightful occasion where 25 people at each seat wore kimonos to celebrate and enjoy a bowl of matcha together.

There is another important thing in November. While the new season for green tea is in May, matcha's new season is in November. After harvesting fresh tea leaves, they age for half a year in a jar. In November, the jar is opened, and the aged tea leaves are ground using a stone mortar to make matcha powder. This marks the beginning of drinking new matcha for the season. When I visit Japan during this time, I always buy matcha for Robiraki at a small tea shop in Kyoto.

Speaking of matcha, a charming tea shop, Sorate opened in Soho just last month. The wonderful owner, Silvia, an Italian woman I met at a charity event for Ukraine last year, provided absolutely delicious matcha sourced from Uji, Kyoto.

 On Sorate’s website, Silvia shares in her "A LOVE LETTER TO JAPAN": 

“AND ITALY, MY HOME COUNTRY.

The idea for starting Sorate came to mind after a period when I felt physically and emotionally depleted by the pressures of life. 

I decided to take a solo road trip through Japan to decompress. Making my way across the Japanese countryside, I discovered that the best way to keep my feet on the ground was to practice simple daily rituals. ….”

I knew she was learning the tea ceremony, but I was deeply moved when I saw a photo of her wearing a kimono and participating in a tea gathering held at Daitoku-ji Temple in Kyoto in the hot summer. I could feel her passion for Japanese culture and matcha.

Sorate, 13 Sullivan St. Soho, NYC

Sorate has a very cozy and relaxing atmosphere, especially in the morning. I enjoy delicious matcha accompanied by the pleasant sounds of jazz and Italian language. I feel the vibrant essence of New York City, a cosmopolitan city, a true melting pot. Each person has their own roots, but one can embrace and love any culture. At our school, Urasenke Chanoyu Center, there is an American instructor who has been teaching for a very long time and is highly respected by all students, not only as a teacher but also as a person.

These days, I feel that the way of Japanese tea is not only for the Japanese people but that this spirit will be passed down to the next generation by those who truly love Japanese culture.

June "Minazuki"

Dear friends,

Early in June my friends and I had a picnic in Central Park. We were all looking forward to trying a sushi bento box that we would purchase from a new sushi market adjacent to a high-end sushi restaurant in Manhattan. One of my friends stated she would bring Japanese sweets and matcha and she said "let’s have sweets after we have sushi." I thought what a great idea we could have an open-air tea ceremony. We hadn't seen each other for almost a year and a half, so we were looking forward to the day.

The day arrived and she brought a homemade Japanese sweet called "Minazuki," which is another name for June in Japanese. Since last June I craved this delicacy so much, so the minute I saw it I expressed my happiness by saying very loud "Minazuki."

Minazuki originally came from Kyoto, and it is eaten on June 30th to pray for good health for the second half of the year. I enjoyed this sweet the first time in my early twenties, however, I wasn't impressed at all because I felt it wasn't visually appealing. After I moved to NY I missed traditional Japanese sweets, so I started making my own. The recipe for Minazuki is simple but I was not successful, consequently, I have been looking forward to this June after failing last June. 

While talking about such things, we really enjoyed having sweets, making matcha for each other, and being surrounded by beautiful green trees and grass.   Children were laughing and running around while young people were playing games. It was a very peaceful day, so much different from a year ago.   I find the taste and appearance of food are important, but the memories associated with the food make me more fond of it. This picnic made "Minazuki" even more memorable Japanese sweets for me. I wish you good health for the rest of 2021.

All the best,

Kumiko

Edited by Janice Ensminger

Every Day a Good Day!

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Dear Friends,

We tend to feel gloomy these days because it is an uncertain time for everybody. So I would like to share an interesting book. I hope it cheers you up a bit.

“Every Day a Good Day” - This book, originally written in Japanese, was very popular in Japan a few years ago. It became even more recognizable after it was adapted into a movie. I had heard of the book but hadn’t had a chance to read it until last year when I received the book as a Christmas gift.

I have been studying tea ceremonies for a while so when I saw the English subtitle, “Fifteen lessons I learned about happiness from Japanese tea culture”, I became even more intrigued.

The book says, “…. in essence, tea is nothing more than making a single bowl of tea”. That’s true. Can you imagine people spending years learning how to make a single bowl of tea? But that is the truth! I go to class to learn how to serve a bowl of matcha. But the more I learn about the Japanese tea ceremony and its depth, I realize how much more there is to study. Even so, I always feel good after my tea ceremony class.

The popularity of matcha in NYC still surprises me. It started out as a new flavor for beverages.  However, people seem to sense that matcha is not just a drink, but something more profound. This book is translated into English as well as many other languages so that people around the world might begin to feel the mystery of tea. If you are interested, please check it out. There may be different nuances in each language, but this English translation is great. You will find that learning one thing teaches you a lot. Everything is within.  We may not need many things to feel happiness. Please don’t forget to wash your mind as well as your hands!!  Every Day is a Good Day!

Best,

Kumiko

Edited by Mika Sumida