Sakuraya is just a mochi shop in Gardena City, if you listen to the owners Mas and Yuki Fujita.
Maas, 74, insists what they do is no different than other stores. The place. They made the steamed buns without referring to the main text of Japanese confectionery. Since 1960, the brothers have followed the teachings of their father, Masayasu, and nothing more.
But if you listen to longtime Gardena residents like Stony Furutani, Sakuraya is special. For 64 years, Sakuraya’s sweets have been a staple at weddings, funerals and baby showers, a flavor that marks moments worth remembering. Buying mochi or wheat flour-based steamed buns is one thing, Furuya said, but going to Sakuraya is a way to show another kind of care.
“To me, it’s the taste of home. It’s tradition. It’s culture. The fact that you went to that little store and talked to Mas shows you made the extra effort,” said Furuya, who A short film was made about the store for the class.
“This is definitely something you want to bring to a potluck,” said his daughter, Emily Furutani. “The care and attention they put into their mochi and steamed buns, there are really only a handful of places like this these days.”
Sakuraya was the only business to see crowds in the town’s quiet strip mall. The windows are covered and if the doors don’t open the place looks like it’s been closed for decades. Inside, statues of woodland animals line shelves where locally made Japanese rice crackers once stood for sale (the company closed decades ago). A small glass display case holds mochi and steamed buns, and all the signs and prices are handwritten in black marker.
There’s never a line, but they’re almost always sold out. They never do advertising, even free advertising. Decades ago, they even turned down a spot on Huell Howser’s TV show “California’s Gold.” More attention means more customers, which means more work, which means more pressure on Mas’ back and Yuki’s hips.
Sakuraya’s candies are soft in texture and filled with sweet bean paste. Each piece is neatly rounded but slightly irregular, with no two pieces alike. Mas makes all the mochi and bean mixes in the shop by hand—on the busiest days, he might start at 4 a.m. in a shift making 1,000 pieces. Beans take the most time, several hours to cook, and then longer to cool.
Mochi is usually made by pounding rice, and the pastry hardens in a day or so. But Sakuraya uses a mixture of rice flour and other starches to make rice cakes that are easy to chew. The resulting mochi retains its soft texture for several days, which suits their customers, who often take the mochi on long plane trips as gifts for out-of-town family members.
The brothers’ departure from tradition is their own Maruyaki, a red bean-filled toast often studded with peanuts. Yuki, who is in charge of baking, uses chocolate chips instead of peanuts to better cater to the sugar-loving taste of Americans.
Last weekend, at a festival fundraiser organized by the Gardena Valley Japanese Cultural Institute, everyone I spoke to seemed to have sentimental memories of Sakuraya.
I polled people at the bingo table, beer garden, and lunch table, and the unanimous favorite was the pink lima bean mochi.
Designer Alvin Takamori, who worked on the plant sales register, remembers Sakuraya as a special treat to enjoy with his family. But as the youngest boy in the family, he always seemed to miss the color pink. Now 62, he likes to buy as many pink mochi as he wants.
Sakuraya is a traditional steamed bun shop, but what they’re really after is not authentic. Maas last visited Japan in the 1980s, and he’s not sure what technology is popular there now. Mas and Yuki use the same tools, techniques and ingredients as their father. The main goal is to make their candies taste like their customers remember them.
We may never again see a place like Sakuraya open in this city, a place that is stubbornly human and low-tech but made special through a huge investment of time and care. The economics of strip malls change too quickly for businesses funded by personal or family income. In a competitive market, there is no room for the inefficiencies and quirks that exist at places like Sakuraya.
But that’s how their father taught them the business, Maas said. Back in the 1950s, after Masayasu completed training at a mochi shop in San Jose, he decided to move his family to Gardena so the shop owner who trained him wouldn’t lose business.
Chikara Mochi is another historic Gardena institution located across the street from Sakuraya. Maas said the Fujitas and the owners were close friends and they discussed how to avoid undermining each other’s businesses.
Maas worked at the store after graduating from college. Yuki previously worked as a police officer, limousine driver, and United States Postal Service manager in search of a better work-life balance.
Both brothers have lived in Gardena their entire lives. Neither man has plans to resign or retire, but there is no succession plan either. Our goal has never been to get rich, live forever, or expand. Just to honor their father, a Hiroshima survivor and prisoner of war who rebuilt his life in the United States.
Additionally, too many loyal customers will be disappointed if they close.
And so, as long as their bodies last, they will continue, the quiet housekeepers of flavor forever tied to memories of a happy childhood in Gardena.