







One hour with a local chef, four mochi styles from red bean to mitarashi dango, and the lowest starting price of the three.



107Book a mochi making class in Tokyo and lift the mallet yourself. Join travelers who pound, shape and taste warm fresh mochi in Asakusa and Shibuya studios, with English-speaking hosts, private sessions for your group, and vegan-friendly options. Reserve a one-hour spot that fits your sightseeing day.

Every mochi making class in Tokyo is hands-on; there is no watch-from-the-sidewalk version here. The choice comes down to setting and style: a private ritual studio near Asakusa's temples, a small chef-led class making several sweet types, or a plant-based session in Shibuya. All three end the same way, with warm mochi you pounded yourself.



If you have a severe soy or sesame allergy, tell the host when you book and ask whether a safe tasting set is possible before you go.








One hour with a local chef, four mochi styles from red bean to mitarashi dango, and the lowest starting price of the three.








Rated 4.9 by 88 reviewers: a private Asakusa session with ten flavors, souvenirs and a wish shouted into every strike.



Every topping is plant-based, with wheat-free tamari, host-taken photos and matcha or hojicha to finish the hour.
The pounding starts within minutes. You pull on a happi coat, take the wooden mallet and knead steamed glutinous rice in a stone mortar, then pound it while shouting yoisho with every strike.
The shop runs this as a wish-granting ritual: you shout a wish or a personal goal into each swing, and the rice turns into smooth, sticky mochi under the mallet.
Afterwards you cut the fresh rice cake yourself, split it between what you eat now and what goes home as a souvenir, and try ten flavors from kinako and green tea to black sugar syrup, grated radish and spicy pollack roe mayonnaise. Reserved seats upstairs and a cup of matcha close out the hour.














My daughters (5, 17) loved it, especially watching me pound the rice.

Making mochi was so much fun and our guide Shin was super friendly and funny. We made it together, then got to eat it.

Talented, personable instructor. We both pounded mochi, rolled balls, and tasted it with 10 toppings. Very warm instructors who helped my daughter with her class assignment.

Really nice experience. Shin gives a perfect presentation. Totally recommended.

Fun and instructional. Pounding the mochi is genuinely tough work!

Loved learning mochi's history and its role in Japanese celebrations. Making it was fun and it tasted great. Shin was friendly and knowledgeable. Recommend to any mochi lover or culture enthusiast!

Super nice employees who encouraged us to really get into the pounding. Tasted our mochi with various toppings and matcha tea. Bonus: an adorable LOVOT robot upstairs that interacts with you while you eat.
Most travelers call the guides warm and attentive, explaining every step so the whole family can join in.
Several travelers are surprised how hard pounding the rice is, and how rewarding the warm mochi tastes after.
A few families wish for more sweet flavor options for kids, since savory toppings dominate the tasting.
Choose a date and a mid-morning start. Weekday rush hour runs from about 7:30 am to 9:30 am, so anything after 9:30 am gets you a calmer ride across the city and leaves your afternoon free.
Three Tokyo workshops cover the search: an Asakusa session a five-minute walk from the Ginza Line station, a traditional class with matcha and several mochi types, and a vegan-friendly Shibuya workshop. Pick by neighborhood and diet first.
Book online and you can cancel up to 24 hours in advance for a full refund on all three tours. Confirmation arrives by email with the meeting point details, so check your inbox before you close the tab.
Wear loose clothes you don't mind getting dusty and flat slip-on shoes, since you take outdoor shoes off at the entrance. A happi coat is provided, hosts take photos for you, and the pounding itself counts as light exercise.
Show up a few minutes early with your voucher on your phone. Every guest pounds and tastes; entry is never observation only, so expect to hold the mallet and shout yoisho with the group.
Plan on about one hour from orientation through pounding, shaping and tasting. Mid-morning works best: the weekday subway rush runs roughly 7:30 am to 9:30 am, so travelling after 9:30 am is quieter. A mid-morning session still leaves room for lunch and afternoon sightseeing.
Come hungry. Tastings run from sweet kinako roasted soybean flour and anko red bean paste to savory soy sauce and grated daikon, and the Asakusa session includes ten different flavors with your mochi and a matcha finish.
The Shibuya workshop prepares ingredients without wheat, dairy or eggs and serves wheat-free tamari and plant-based toppings. It contains soy and may contain sesame, and the shared kitchen is not a dedicated allergen-free facility. Tell the host about any restriction before the session date.
All three workshops run in English, with hosts who explain each step clearly. No prior cooking experience is needed; beginners knead the steamed rice before they ever lift the mallet.
Every Tokyo workshop here is a reserved, participatory session, so book ahead and turn up ready to pound. Observation-only entry is not permitted at the Asakusa studio, for hygiene reasons. Everyone who enters counts as a participant.
All three Tokyo workshops let you cancel up to 24 hours in advance for a full refund. That makes it easy to hold a slot while you finalise the rest of your Tokyo itinerary.
Minimum ages differ by workshop, so check before booking with children. The Shibuya session does not accept children under 5, and other Tokyo classes list starting ages that vary between younger kids and teens. Adults can always book solo.
One Tokyo experience lists pregnant women, and people with back or heart problems, as not suitable for the pounding session. Pounding is active physical work with a heavy wooden mallet. If any of that applies to you, choose a session that fits, and mention conditions when you book.
There is no formal dress code, but wear comfortable clothes and shoes you do not mind getting dusty with starch. Outdoor shoes come off at the entrance, so slip-ons and clean dark socks help. Studios provide a traditional happi coat to wear over your clothes.
The Asakusa studio sits a five-minute walk from Asakusa Station on the Ginza Line, so you can pair it with the temple district around it. The Shibuya and other central sessions are also reached easily by subway. Allow the walk time plus ten minutes to arrive early.
Bring your phone for pictures of your group taking turns at the mortar. In Shibuya the host takes photos for you and sends them after the session, and happi coats make for good pictures everywhere.
Fresh mochi is soft, warm and very sticky, so cut it into small bites and chew thoroughly, with tea at hand. Take leftovers back to your hotel the same day and keep them at room temperature, never in the refrigerator, where cold hardens the starch.
The viral high-speed mochi pounding videos were shot in Nara. Tokyo answers with studio classes where you pound, shape and eat the mochi yourself; booking ahead, dressing for the starch and eating safely are what decide the hour.

Book ahead: the Asakusa studio asks for reservations at least two days in advance, and nobody is admitted to watch only.
Plan on about 1 hour from arrival to the last piece of warm mochi, so it slots between temples and lunch.
Cut fresh mochi into small bites and chew slowly with tea nearby; it is sticky enough to be a real choking hazard.
The storefront with the giant mallet and the cheering crowd is real, but it stands in Nara. In Tokyo there is no permanent street-side pounding spectacle to stumble into, and travelers who go looking for one come back with the same advice: stop searching the pavements and book a workshop instead.
That is how the city does it. Hands-on studio classes are the primary way to experience mochi pounding in Tokyo, in neighborhoods like Asakusa and Shibuya.
A few one-off performances do exist: mochi is pounded on a stage at Zojoji Temple during the Setsubun ceremony, at Sumoland in Ryogoku sumo wrestlers demonstrate it, and a restaurant at Tokyo Tower includes pounding in its show if seats are free. Some hotel performances run on January 1 only.
For an actual class, book ahead. The traditional mochi-making experience at the Asakusa studio asks for reservations at least two days in advance, and for hygiene reasons nobody can enter just to watch. You pound or you do not come in.
That shop is Nakatanidou in Nara, a 40-minute train ride from Kyoto
Tokyo's mochi pounding happens in booked studio classes; a few ticketed one-off performances run at temples and hotels
The Asakusa studio asks for reservations two days ahead, and walk-ins are not admitted to observe
So the plan is simple: book a studio class in Asakusa or Shibuya, and the mallet is yours.

Three formats cover the city, and they suit different trips. The private Tokyo Asakusa: Mochi Pounding and Tasting Experience is the full ritual: knead steamed rice, pound it with a wooden mallet in a stone mortar, shout yoisho with every strike, then cut your mochi and split it between a plate and a souvenir box.
It runs as a private session, and each group keeps its own mortar, mallet and rice, so nothing is shared between groups.
The Tokyo: Traditional Mochi Pounding Experience & Tasting works from a friendly local chef's kitchen. You still pound, but the hour also takes in several types: red bean mochi, mochi ice cream, grilled mitarashi dango and shaped wagashi. It is the friendliest format for mixed groups and solo travelers, and it is not wheelchair accessible.
In Shibuya, the Tokyo: Shibuya Vegan-Friendly Mochi Pounding Experience runs a plant-based tasting set with wheat-free tamari, in a shared kitchen that contains soy and may contain sesame.
All three are one-hour experiences. Pick by base and appetite: Asakusa for the ritual, the chef's class for variety, Shibuya for the plant-based set.
| Asakusa private ritual | Local chef's class | Shibuya vegan session | |
|---|---|---|---|
| Format | Private pounding ritual with ten toppings | Small class with several mochi types | Guided group workshop |
| What you do | Knead, pound, shout yoisho, cut and shape | Pound, shape and fill red bean, ice cream, mitarashi and wagashi | Pound in a stone usu mortar |
| Dietary fit | Wide range of flavors, sweet and savory | Tell the host your restrictions before the date | Plant-based, wheat-free tamari, contains soy |
| Setting | Five minutes from Asakusa Station on the Ginza Line | Local chef's kitchen; not wheelchair accessible | Shibuya studio |
Read down the rows and two things settle the choice: where your hotel sits, and what you eat. The neighborhood picks the studio as often as the format does.


The hour at the Tokyo Asakusa: Mochi Pounding and Tasting Experience follows the traditional sequence, and you do every part of it. You start by kneading the steamed glutinous rice with your hands, feeling where the grains end and the dough begins. Then comes the mallet.
Before the pounding starts, your host teaches the calls. The pounder shouts yoisho on the strike; the turner answers hai when their hands are clear of the mortar.
Strike, pause, the turner reaches in with wet hands to fold the dough, strike again. That rhythm is what keeps the turner's hands safe, and you feel the point of it the first time you swing the kine.
Cutting comes next, and it is yours alone: a pinch-and-twist motion, not a pull, so no fresh sticky surfaces form. Then you sit, taste warm mochi under ten different toppings, and finish with matcha upstairs.
Instructors explain every step in English, and the session is built for people who have never cooked Japanese food.
Come a few minutes early to settle in
This is where the texture first makes sense
The rhythm protects the turner's hands
Keep the mallet flat so it lands inside the mortar
The generous part, so come hungry
One hour, one stone mortar, ten toppings: the session compresses the full mochitsuki sequence into a slot that fits any Tokyo morning.


Yes, and the reason is the mochi itself. Freshly pounded mochi is soft, pliable and sticky while it is warm, with the natural sweetness of the rice showing.
Packaged daifuku from a shop chiller can never quite match it, because supermarket versions are made with a softer dough so they survive the shelf, and refrigeration turns fresh mochi firm and slightly dry within a night.
The classes know their audience. Instruction runs in English, the hands-on part is structured for beginners with no prior cooking experience, and in the Tokyo: Traditional Mochi Pounding Experience & Tasting the chef walks you from pounding through shaping and filling several types yourself, ending with green tea and your own creations.
Solo travelers join the same sessions as friends and families.
The class you get in Tokyo is also smaller than the demonstration you would get elsewhere: small groups mean the instructor has time to guide each person individually.
Super nice employees who encouraged us to really get into the pounding. Tasted our mochi with various toppings and matcha tea. Bonus: an adorable LOVOT robot upstairs that interacts with you while you eat.
If kitchen confidence is the only thing holding you back, the classes are built to absorb it: the chef guides every hand, and nobody is expected to arrive with skill.


Pick mid-morning. The weekday subway crush runs from about 7:30 am to 9:30 am, and traveling after 9:30 am is noticeably calmer. A late-morning class leaves you time for a long sightseeing lunch nearby and an afternoon of temples or shopping before the evening crowds build again.
Book earlier than you think. The Asakusa studio wants reservations at least two days ahead, and observation-only entry is not an option at any price of effort: you either take part or you do not get in.
Demand rises around mochitsuki season, late December through early January, when the tradition is at its most visible and the New Year events appear across the city. Summer brings a second bump in interest. If your trip falls in that window, book as soon as your dates are fixed, before you arrive.
August: mochitsuki reading interest 240 readers a month. Mochitsuki article readership is 240 readers; this does not show how busy the workshops are.
Tap a month to read it.
The picture is clear: August and January are the peaks for mochitsuki interest, and November is the quietest month. A mid-morning class booked early beats any walk-up hope.

Both studios sit on subway lines, which is half the reason to book one. The Asakusa workshop is a five-minute walk from Asakusa Station on the Ginza Line, so you can pair it with the temple and the old sweet district in the same morning.
That district has form. Edo street craftsmen sculpted amezaiku candy in front of crowds, and watching the sweets being made was part of the treat. Modern Asakusa keeps the habit: you can try an amezaiku workshop led by a craftsperson, or make taiyaki, the fish-shaped filled griddle cakes, after your mochi session.
Shibuya puts you in the middle of everything, which makes the studio easy to reach and the surrounding streets the busiest of the two. The Asakusa option is the calmer walk and the deeper story.
Whichever line you pick, leave the hotel with time to spare: the Ginza Line studio is the easy walk, and Shibuya's crowds reward an early start.

There is no dress code, but there is starch. Loose, washable clothes with sleeves that roll up, and flexible trousers for the wide pounding stance, are what work.
Flat, closed-toe slip-on shoes make the entrance simple, because indoor venues follow Japanese footwear etiquette and you take outdoor shoes off at the door. Clean, dark socks under them.
The studio hands you a happi coat, the short traditional jacket, to wear over your clothes, and hosts take photos of your group pounding and send them afterwards. Even with the coat on, fine potato starch and soybean flour drift onto sleeves and hems, so leave the dry-clean-only fabrics at the hotel.
Two things to know before you lift the mallet. Land it flat inside the mortar, never at an angle, so it does not chip the wooden rim and throw splinters.
And never reach into the mortar between strikes: the turner's job needs practice and trust, because a mistimed hand meets the mallet. In class, the host calls that part.

The warm mochi that comes off your mallet is the best thing you will eat all day, and it is also the stickiest.
Freshly pounded glutinous mochi is a severe choking hazard unless it is cut into small bites and eaten with tea. Every workshop enforces this, and hosts say it plainly: chew thoroughly, take small bites.
The mechanics matter less than the habit. Cut the pieces small, sip tea beforehand to moisten the throat, chew slowly and mix each mouthful well before swallowing. Sit still while you eat, no talking with a full mouth, and keep children seated and focused rather than wandering with a mouthful.
Children are welcome at the table and often join the pounding with smaller mallets, but the youngest guests need the pieces cut smallest, since cooler mochi hardens and becomes harder to chew. Grandparents should take the same care. The rule is one rule, and it is easy once the tea is poured.
Freshly pounded mochi is a severe choking hazard unless cut into small bites and eaten slowly with tea Cut the pieces small, sip tea before and while eating, chew thoroughly and stay seated while you eat
Keep the alert in mind and the tasting stays pure pleasure: small bites and hot tea are the whole rule.

The rice itself is on your side. Mochigome glutinous rice contains no wheat gluten at all; the word glutinous describes its glue-like stickiness, and its stretch comes from a starch profile of almost pure branched-chain amylopectin, not from the gluten protein.
Plain mochi and plain anko sweet red bean paste are therefore naturally gluten-free, which is why celiac travelers in Tokyo are generally offered them, with the usual caution about what else is in the room.
That room matters. In Shibuya, the Tokyo: Shibuya Vegan-Friendly Mochi Pounding Experience prepares its ingredients without wheat, dairy or eggs and serves a plant-based tasting set with wheat-free tamari, sweet anko and kinako.
But it runs in a shared kitchen, not a dedicated allergen-free facility: soy is present and sesame may be. If your allergy is severe, that is the detail that decides your booking.
Toppings hide the usual suspects: kinako carries soy, some carry peanut or almond. Travelers who check ingredients learn one word early: the Japanese for egg is tamago.
Tell your host about restrictions before the session, and they will tell you which pieces to skip.


Here is the arithmetic that decides your takeaway plans. Fresh mochi hardens within a few hours at room temperature as its starch recrystallizes, which is why anything you carry home must be eaten the same day.
Kept covered in an airtight container at room temperature, away from heat and direct sunlight, it stays soft for a few hours. Left out uncovered, it goes dry and tough.
The hotel fridge makes it worse, not better. Cold between about 2 and 5 degrees is exactly where rice starch hardens fastest, and a single night in the fridge strips the moistness out of fresh mochi. Leave it out past a day or two and mold moves in.
So plan the day around it. Buy the souvenir box at the Asakusa studio and eat it that evening, or plan for the tasting to be the generous part of the session, which it is: visitors say the spread of several pieces and ten toppings leaves nobody hungry.
The mochi you pound warm is the best version, and it does not keep.

Between strikes, the host tells you why any of this happens, and the story is worth hearing. Steaming the rice is the first lesson: boiled mochigome goes gummy on the outside before the inside cooks, while steam gelatinizes the grains gently and keeps them intact for pounding, which is where mochi's chew comes from.
The chant is the second. Yoisho and the turner's hai are not for show; the calls keep the pounder and the turner in time so the mallet never lands on a hand.
The rice itself is sacred ground. By the Heian period, aristocrats used mochi as food for the gods in Shinto rituals, because deities were believed to dwell in the rice.
Mochitsuki has marked New Year, marriage and childbirth for centuries, and each pounded grain is read as a stretched-out soul in a communal act of purification. In Edo, the pounding was a working trade: professional pounders went door to door in winter with portable stoves and steaming baskets.
The call and answer between pounder and turner coordinates the timing, so hands are never in the mortar when the mallet falls
Gentle steaming keeps the grains whole, while boiling makes the outside gummy and ruins the pounding
By the Heian period it was used as an offering in Shinto rituals, because deities were believed to live in the rice
The history is not decoration: it explains the chant, the steam and the mortar you just used, and it is what you retell at dinner.

The class feeds you, and Tokyo has more mochi within an afternoon. In Asakusa, the Nakamise stalls sell daifuku filled with red bean paste, and one shop closes once the day's stock sells out, which tells you how fresh it is.
Elsewhere in the city, three famous houses reward a detour: a celebrated daifuku maker in Bunkyo-ku a minute from Gokokuji Station on the Yurakucho Line, a mame daifuku specialist in Aoyama five minutes from Gaienmae on the Ginza Line, and a warabi mochi master near Myogadani on the Marunouchi Line.
Watch the payment at the small shops: some of the best-known wagashi houses take cash only, no credit cards, no IC cards. Carry yen.
If you want variety without the shopkeeping, the basement food hall of a big department store gathers a wide choice of Japanese sweets in one pass, including sealed warabi mochi that can travel if you check the date. Expect choice rather than scarcity; the shelves move fast because everything on them was made that morning.

A mochi making class in Tokyo is one of the most physical hours you can spend sightseeing, and it ends with warm mochi under ten toppings.
Go for the Asakusa ritual if you want the tradition, the chef's class for variety, Shibuya if you eat plant-based. Book at least two days out, arrive early, and cut your mochi small.

Quick answers on booking, language, safety and what a Tokyo workshop actually involves.
Tokyo2026You can do the full thing in Tokyo. A workshop in Asakusa takes you through kneading steamed rice, pounding with a wooden mallet and mortar, then cutting and shaping the mochi yourself. What Tokyo lacks is a permanent street-front pounding show like the one in Nara, so book a class in advance.
Hands-on classes run in Asakusa and Shibuya. The Asakusa venue sits a five-minute walk from Asakusa Station on the Ginza Line, so you can slot a session into a morning of temple sightseeing. Seasonal demonstrations also pop up at places like Zojoji Temple during Setsubun and the Tokyo Tower sumo performances.
Yes. Every Tokyo class on this page runs with English instruction or an English-speaking host, and the steps are explained for beginners with no cooking experience. You will not need any Japanese cooking terms to follow along.
At most Tokyo studios, no. The Asakusa pounding-and-tasting experience requires every guest to book as a participant, because watching only is not permitted for hygiene reasons. If someone in your group wants to just watch, a temple or hotel demonstration in January is a better bet.
Plan on about an hour from getting started through pounding, shaping and tasting the result. That leaves room for a late-morning lunch nearby and afternoon sightseeing before the evening subway crowds build.
Instructors start you with rice that is already steamed. At the Asakusa studio you knead the hot glutinous rice by hand or with the mallet before the real pounding begins, which is the messiest and most satisfying part of the traditional process.
One Tokyo pounding class is not suitable for pregnant women, so read the class notes before booking. Plain rice mochi itself is fine during pregnancy; the care is with fillings, so avoid anything with raw egg or unpasteurized dairy and stick to sweet red bean or sesame paste.
Yes. A Shibuya workshop runs a 60-minute pounding session in English with a plant-based tasting set: kinako roasted soybean flour, sweet anko, grated daikon and wheat-free tamari instead of ordinary soy sauce. It contains soy, and sesame may be present since the kitchen is shared.
Plenty, both sweet and savory. The Asakusa experience serves ten flavors, from kinako and green tea to black sugar syrup, grated radish and spicy pollack roe mayonnaise. Other tastings pair kinako and anko with matcha tea.
Solo travelers are welcome. The Asakusa pounding-and-tasting experience is offered as a private tour, and in shared studios each group gets its own mortar, mallet and rice, with no ingredients or tools passed between groups.
Never reach into the mortar while the mallet is moving. The person who turns the rice by hand between strikes works to a shouted rhythm, calling and answering before each blow, and mistiming it can badly hurt hands. As a beginner, stick to pounding and let your instructor handle the turning.
Yes, bring your phone. Happi coats are provided for photos, and hosts are usually happy to take pictures of your group mid-pounding and send them after the session.

Pound steamed rice with a wooden mallet in Asakusa, taste ten flavors, and cancel up to 24 hours ahead free.