The Japanese custom of snack time led to regular Japanese creating a unique culture around sweets. Since late 1800s, the mixture of western culture and Japanese sensibilities has led to an incredible variety of treats. Today, flavor, form and packaging all reflect deeply original designs, and many items are popular abroad. Dagashi stores that offer cheap sweets are much loved places for children to gather. Explore Japan's wonderful world of snack-time designs!
I heard there's a very nostalgic shop in this temple...
It's supposed to be somewhere here.
There it is.
Wow. This is something.
Hello? Excuse me.
Hi, thanks for coming.
Yes this is... yeah, this is... oh wow, everything is coming back.
So all the nostalgic days when I was a kid... yeah.
I haven't seen these traditional snacks for a long time.
Wow, look at this.
Oh, this is it!
This is the classic one. Oh, wow.
This is what's called a "dagashi" store.
It sells a variety of small sweets and snacks at astonishingly low prices.
These unusual shops flourished in the post-war period, around 70 years ago,
but they're back in the cultural spotlight thanks to foreign tourism and Japanese nostalgia.
You can open?
First, 2 push.
No, no, no. Two push.
- Two push.
- Okay.
Once more again. Okay!
This takes me back!
- Enjoy!
- I will!
You know, on a hot summer day, or even at night, we as kids used to always drink this thing called "Ramune."
It's like a cider. It's refreshing.
Gosh yeah, I love it. And as you see, there's a marble in here.
Which after we all finished drinking, we would take out this marble and all the kids would play on the ground, right?
So this time on Design Stories we're turning the spotlight to Japanese snacks.
Now, they're packed with fun and unusual designs.
Design Stories.
Our topic today is 'Snack Time'!
It's long been a custom here in Japan to indulge at 3PM every day in sweet or savory snacks we call "oyatsu."
Oyatsu are a bit different to the refined, elegant Japanese sweets served at a tea ceremony.
They cover everything from cheap treats for children, or dagashi...
...to the incredible variety of snacks available at convenience stores.
Design plays an integral role in Japanese oyatsu.
Let's explore this daring and delicious world.
I've come to the Tokyo neighborhood of Kameari to meet a researcher who's in love with dagashi culture.
- Dobashi-san? I'm Andy, hello.
- Hello! Great to meet you.
Dobashi Makoto.
Dagashi stores are his passion - he says he's visited over 500 of them since 2011.
He's something of a researcher, and he writes about his experiences on his blog.
- Is this it?
- It is, yes.
Oh, just look at it.
I love this retro look.
You're a fan of this place?
Local kids call it Zebra.
Zebra? That's unique.
Check out this facade.
- I love the packed earth floor.
- So nostalgic.
The store is here, and the owner
lives up the stairs, which I love.
Wow! Look at them all.
I remember looking down at them
like this as a kid.
The display is designed so that kids can peruse to their heart's content.
Check out the cute, kitschy designs of these snacks!
Each one costs about ten or twenty cents. So cheap!
Oh! Wow, it's a carrot...
This peculiar package is a popular dagashi snack which contains a simple treat of popped rice.
I've always been fascinated by the packaging because the snack itself contains no carrot at all.
Why a carrot?
Nobody has any idea!
It's a useful shape for packing boxes
if you alternate them up and down.
Maybe it was that shape
that inspired the carrot.
Other theories say it's easier
to fill this conical shape.
Again, the shape inspired the carrot.
A lot of theories but no confirmation.
- We don't know?
- We don't.
- The manufacturer?
- Doesn't know either.
Oh this! Look!
It's like yogurt for a doll's house.
It's a perfect size.
A fluffy candy that looks like yogurt.
You eat it with a wooden
spoon, like we did with yogurt.
People associate yogurt with Greece
or Bulgaria. This says 'Morocco.'
I think people back then associated yogurt
with Morocco for some reason!
Fair enough!
The elephant on the lid is another peculiar choice.
Apparently, it represents a wish for children who eat it to grow up big and strong.
It's time to enjoy our haul!
It's good. Nostalgic.
Sour and sweet.
Reminiscent of yogurt.
I'm sure kids love it.
A miniature ramune bottle with
sherbet inside you suck with a straw.
That's it.
It's good! Oh wow.
Right? Not sweet but you can choke
if you're not careful!
That's dangerous!
How do you eat it?
Like this.
Oh, I see.
Whoa! You're okay?
I've never choked.
These chewy dagashi are eaten slowly and carefully with toothpicks.
I love these seemingly arbitrary customs.
What have these two girls picked out today?
- Did you know what you wanted?
- We had an idea.
You've got quite a lot.
- Less than US $2!
- It's cheap!
Do people gather here?
- We all meet at the shop.
- You do?
- Once a week, always.
- Every week?
Always!
Did your parents grow up here too?
- Yeah, everyone here knows it.
- Everybody knows this shop.
What's this interesting sign?
It looks like rules.
"No yelling or disturbing the neighbors."
But what's the question mark for?
I asked Ishikawa Miyoko, who's run the store for around forty years.
It means you should think hard
and choose your own sweets.
Oh, I see!
- My husband.
- He wrote it?
That's right.
- Think for yourselves?
- Before you buy.
That's lovely.
These rules evolved out of a long relationship
between the store and the local kids.
No-one has explicitly taught them.
They absorb them from their elders.
Each dagashi store is unique.
It's part of their charm.
Each has their own rules.
Oh, definitely. They do.
At the end of the day, dagashi
stores are places for kids.
If I see kids in a store I'm visiting,
I'll wait outside while they shop.
I enter when they've left
to chat to the owner.
There are fewer and fewer places
for kids in the city today.
Places that put them first.
Dagashi stores are like third places.
That makes them very important.
So I want to record them.
These kid-first places have been around since after the war, fostering independence and thoughtfulness.
And they're just as exciting as I remember!
Sato Taku is one of Japan's top graphic designers.
He designed so much of the packaging we see around Japan.
He's also the curator of a design museum.
This exhibit features giant snacks that allow visitors to explore their designs in detail.
I loved dagashi stores!
I would visit every day.
I rarely have the chance to design
dagashi sweets. I'd love to!
But they can't be too refined.
They need to be a bit uncool.
Oddly I think that's
actually part of the appeal.
Sato explains that package design for snacks needs to feel relaxed.
Take this cookie tin.
It features people in Tyrolean dress, reflecting the product name.
I found references for the clothes.
I loved that the figures seemed to
have no connection to one another.
I thought it would make
a unique package for sweets.
But it wasn't quite enough.
So I shaped their mouths.
'TI-RO-LI-A-N.'
A bit of fun for customers.
And for me as well!
There's a 10-yen coin minted
well over 60 years ago.
The bird on the roof
is missing its tail.
I searched all over to find one from
that year. I love things like that!
Sato also redesigned this popular chewing gum package.
He paid similar attention to the details.
The brand was over half a century old.
The original design was created for a mid-century Antarctic expedition, so the package featured penguins and whales.
Sato noticed that in most stores, two sides of the package were visible.
He divided the text and images.
The penguins now form a line.
Sato's design doesn't feature whales.
There's a whale spouting
behind the penguin.
The spout is blown to the right.
Maybe it's just arrived at speed?
Or there's a strong wind.
Lots of possibilities, right?
I wanted to give the new
packaging something similar.
For people looking closely.
I wasn't sure what to do.
But then I tried raising
the second penguin's flipper.
A sneaky wave for those who enjoy these imaginative details.
Sato imagines the penguins as a line of office workers.
The folks behind say, 'slow down!'
The one in front calls, 'hurry up!'
This one finally works up the nerve
to say, 'Boss, we can't keep up!'
I presented this at a serious meeting.
The clients all gave a solemn nod.
It was a contest.
That moment gave me hope I might win.
Sato's packaging was cherished for 21 years before being refreshed again in 2014.
A designer links past and future.
Package design isn't about sales figures
but connections.
It's about shaping unseen stories.
Our next snack is something that looks like...
scrunched up paper?!
And what's in here?
It looks like... a sandbox.
I wonder how it tastes.
This series of unusual candy is made by someone who says she fell in love with Japanese snacks.
- Hello!
- Hello.
I'm Shaula, nice to meet you.
I'm Tsuchiya, welcome.
This is your workshop?
Yes. Upstairs is my office and
I live on the third floor.
- I see, you live at the top?
- That's right.
Tsuchiya Mio is a snack innovator based in the Tokyo neighborhood of Asakusa.
She sells her goods online and occasionally runs pop-up stores.
Her creations also feature as subjects of her artistic photography.
I see a range of cute snacks here.
Are they all edible?
They are.
So this is candy?
Yes, it's called 'Sandbox.'
Cookie pieces mixed in with sugar.
Buried inside?
Yes, I liked the idea of
having to dig them out.
Getting dirty.
Yes, like playing in a sandbox as a child.
May I try it?
Please. Use your fingers.
To dig around?
Maybe the middle?
It really is like sand.
Got one! I found it!
Oh wow...
Well, here goes!
Oh, that's good!
I'm glad.
I taste herbs. Rosemary?
Lavender with maple sugar.
It's very good.
Thank you.
And extremely fun!
Are these stones?
Ramune candy.
Ramune?
It's lighter than it looks.
Because it's ramune.
Nobody would guess that
if it were on the floor!
Oh, it melts in the mouth!
Delicious. A little gingery.
I love the clash between
the flavor and the appearance!
It's softer than store-bought ramune
because it's made by hand.
Very soft.
I made a whole series like this.
All inspired by movies.
Tsuchiya is a big film buff.
She takes detailed notes on items that appear in movies.
They inspire many of her unique creations.
This one came from a movie by French poet Jean Cocteau.
It's made of soft nougat.
It was inspired by the movie
'The Blood of a Poet.'
It's about the struggle for
expression. Sketching out ideas.
Then scrunching up the bad ones.
Is it trash? Is it art? A poem?
It asks us all those questions.
Very few sweets have
that kind of story.
It's printed here:
'Was it an art piece or just trash?'
My original concept for this series
was stories you eat.
Stories you eat? Amazing.
Tsuchiya has been making her extraordinary snacks for years.
But how did she get into it in the first place?
The simple answer is I love snacks.
I was a graphic designer.
I was so busy, often working all night.
There was only one part I enjoyed.
That was when I was eating snacks.
I see.
After graduating from art college, Tsuchiya worked as a graphic designer.
She realized that she wanted to work with her hands, and remembered her childhood love of baking.
She studied at a confectionary school and became a snack innovator.
Tsuchiya's first creation was a bag of small cookies that looked like cat food.
She says she wanted to experience food like her cat did.
What a unique inspiration!
As a child, I loved dagashi snacks. This one looks rather familiar!
Sometimes I turn a movie image
into an artwork.
There's a line that goes like:
'Who cares if the carrots are blue.'
It's said by a blind character.
That line really stuck with me.
And everyone knows
the dagashi carrot, right?
They're everywhere.
It's the only snack for which the
package is irrelevant to the content.
Kind of like how Japanese melon bread is
named for the shape. No melon flavor.
That's right!
It's so sweet.
Yes, why that name?
Did you eat dagashi as a child?
Oh, definitely!
What was your favorite?
I loved those pretend yogurt pots
that contained the cream.
I remember!
You eat it with a tiny wooden spoon.
I loved those so much.
We have another fan of that yogurt snack!
Dobashi and I make a final stop at another of his favorite dagashi stores.
Umino Mitsumasa and his wife Masae have run the shop for the last 40 years.
They have vintage games you can play for about ten cents!
And even a space to sit and enjoy your snacks!
The prices are very clear for young customers.
- I see that.
- For the kids.
- It's math practice!
- Oh, I see.
Nothing with a five on the end.
Easier to calculate in tens, right?
If they were 12 or 15 yen,
it'd be harder for them.
This is to make it easier?
Right. We get preschoolers who
can manage on their own!
- Amazing!
- That's why we do it.
Our rules are faded but over there.
Rules? Behind the fan?
More rules!
No yelling or being loud in the store.
Kids can have fun but be mindful of others.
- Be considerate.
- Yes. We often tell them off.
- Tell them to behave.
- And I won't stand bullying.
It's important to me, you know?
I wrote those the night
we opened. 40 years ago.
Scolding other people's kids - what a job!
As a young man, Umino worked as a gardener before graduating night school.
What a hard worker.
He later opened the dagashi store, from which he looks over the local kids.
I love reading. Historic novels have
the equivalent of dagashi stores.
One was named the Bunny Store,
run by Tokubei. An Edo-period story.
He watches over the local kids.
I can't do much but
folks come by to say hello.
I want to be part of the landscape.
'You still hanging on, grandpa?'
Tokubei of the Bunny Store.
That's my goal!
I still remember the couple who ran my local dagashi store.
It's a community design.
You represent the neighborhood.
A gathering place, a place to play.
A place to have fun and dream.
These stores can serve as a safety net for
kids who slip between the cracks.
I'd love to see dagashi stores
recognized as a cultural asset.
They have such warm people.
I want to preserve them for coming generations.
Just one coin still goes a long way at these dagashi stores.
And the warmth of the owners comes free of charge.
Nothing beats a good snack time.