At the Ohtani Temple

Every year in late July, Berkeley’s Ohtani Temple (also called the Higashi Honganji Temple) holds a summer bazaar. Satoko Davidson, who has been practicing the culinary art of mochi-making for over 50 years, works with two other mochi masters, Joey Ouye and Naomi Yamada, plus numerous volunteers, to make more than 2,000 pieces of mochi to be sold over two days at the bazaar. Each mochi is artfully and painstakingly crafted by hand and features a filling like strawberry with shiroan (sweet white bean paste), anko (sweet red bean paste), peanut butter, or a novelty like blueberry cheesecake.

Naomi Yamada, Joey Ouye, and Satoko Davidson (from left) are the mochi masters for Ohtani Temple in Berkeley. Each summer, they get to the temple early on bazaar days to work in the mochi house with a large group of volunteers to make thousands of pieces of mochi for the bazaar.

As the oldest member of the Ohtani Temple mochi-making team, Satoko remembers back to the 1960s, when, at age 14, her mother first recruited her for mochi-making at the temple. Nine Japanese women were in charge back then, and they continued to prepare mochi for the bazaar for the next 40 years. They strove to make their mochi perfect, which requires both practice and attention to detail.

“Ohtani was known for its food,” says Satoko, “so everything had to be as perfect as possible. The anko [red bean paste] could not show through the top, the mochi had to be shaped properly, and all had to be approximately the same size. Most importantly, there could not be too much starch, and the bottom should be sealed and look as good as the top.”

Next to the Ohtani Temple is a tiny structure called the “mochi house.” It has a small gas stove where batter for the 2,000 pieces of mochi gets mixed, steamed, and kneaded. There’s also a back room where the mochi cools. Joey Ouye, who today is in charge of the mixing, steaming, and kneading, says that the mochi house becomes a sweathouse because any cool air allowed in will cause the mochi to firm up too quickly.

Work on the mochi for the bazaar starts at the crack of dawn, since mochi made the same day it’s sold is wonderfully pillowy and soft to the touch. When bitten into, the mochi is sticky and chewy, holding firm, yet still giving way to the sweet and earthy bean paste. The process for making it that Satoko learned 60 years ago is still followed today:

First the water, then the corn syrup, food coloring, and finally the mochiko were placed in the bowl. Stirring was done with a wooden spoon, but today we use a mixer for this step.

The mixed dough was placed on a small table and then in steamers on the stove. These ladies kneaded the hot dough with their hands. They would carry the hot dough to a table with a wooden cutting board that had the correct amount of katakuriko on it. Then it was carefully folded in half, making certain that no starch was in the dough. Then the dough was pinched off by hand and placed on the table with the pinched-part up and the dough shaped like a small round ball.

Making the mochi required that you have the correct amount of katakuriko on your hands. Too much would mean that it would be difficult to seal the mochi and there would be too much on the finished product. Too little and the hot mochi would stick and burn your hand.

The anko needed to be placed on the ball of dough without flattening it. If you flattened the dough, the filling would show through the top because the top was too thin. The dough would be massaged up for sealing.

The bazaar opens at four in the afternoon, and within the first hour, the day’s 1,000 pieces of fresh mochi completely sell out. It is the most popular item for sale, and people come from all over the Bay Area for it. Mochi-making is a labor of love that Satoko Davidson, Joey Ouye, and Naomi Yamada continue every year, but there is concern over who will carry on the tradition.