wagashi

Kumiko Jitsukawa

Minazuki – Seasonal Sweets for June by Kumiko Jitsukawa

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

Hydrangeas in the Rain by Kumiko Jitsukawa

It is already the end of June, and every year in June, it reminds me of blue-purple hydrangeas blooming in the rain. Hydrangea has a long history in Japan, and the flowers are mentioned in Japan's oldest collection of waka poems, "Manyoshu (万葉集)", which is said to have been compiled in the latter half of the 8th century.

"Shichihenge" (Hydrangea) / 「七変化」by Phoebe Ogawa

When hydrangeas get wet with rain, they become more glossy and stand out, appearing beautiful even in gloomy weather. They glisten with raindrops throughout the rainy season. When I imagine hydrangeas in the rain, I can almost hear the soothing sound of rain, which makes me feel calm and peaceful. For me, hydrangeas and rain always go hand in hand.

Usually, I definitely prefer the dry air, but at this time of year,  I miss a bit the humid air of the rainy season in Japan when thinking of hydrangeas.

Recently, I've been asked a lot about Japanese sweets, so I want to introduce traditional Japanese sweets made by Phoebe Ogawa, a former wagashi chef at the Japanese fine dining restaurant Kajitsu and its cafe, Kokage. Unfortunately, the restaurants closed last year, but her traditional Japanese sweets are now sold at Mogmog, a small Japanese supermarket in Long Island City. So I went there to buy some. It's a little far for me, but it's worth it to buy these specific Japanese sweets and travel a distance. Her sweets are so pretty that while I was heading back home on the subway, I was thinking of the hydrangeas that were drenched in the rain at Meigetsu-in Temple (明月院) in Kamakura City. It is so famous for hydrangeas that it is called a temple of hydrangeas.

Perhaps because I went all the way to buy these Japanese sweets, the bowl of matcha I had with the sweet tasted exceptionally delicious. The taste of food and drink may feel even more delicious in proportion to my thoughts.

It has been a little cooler this year, so the hydrangeas in our garden in CT are taking longer to bloom. It is not like Japan, but I am eagerly anticipating the sight of beautiful hydrangeas in our garden even after June passes.

Hydrangea buds in our garden

The long-awaited seasonal sweet, Minazuki by Kumiko Jitsukawa

Dear friends,

Every June I have a strong desire to make a traditional sweet called "Minazuki (水無月)," a triangular mochi dessert topped with red beans.

"Minazuki," is also another name for June in the Japanese calendar; consequently, this sweet can only be eaten in June. This is the reason for my strong desire to make and eat.

Traditionally, it is eaten on June 30th.  On that day, there is a ritual called "Nagoshi no Harae" to purify the bad luck spirits of the first half of the year and pray for good health for the second half of the year. A white mochi part represents ice. The red bean has the meaning of chasing away evil spirits and bad lucks.

It is a simple recipe, but last year I could not make it successfully, so since last July, I have been waiting for this June to make Minazuki. 

I recently made Minazuki using Azuki cooked over two days in advance the night before my tea ceremony class. I put it into a square-shaped Japanese traditional wooden container, and I wrapped it with furoshiki, a square-shaped Japanese wrapping cloth, and took it to the tea class.

In my tea class, everyone looked so pleased with the homemade Minazuki, which really made me happy. It was worth waiting a year to make it. A little happiness fills my everyday life, in fact, I'm looking forward to making it again next year.

Wishing all of you good health in the second half of the year.

All the best,

Kumiko