Prosperity in a Rice Cake

In anticipation of the new year, dozens of members of Senshin Buddhist Temple near USC and their friends gathered to participate in the annual ritual called mochitsuki, or mochi pounding. The ancient process begins with high gluten rice--in this case, a thousand pounds of it--which is cleaned, steamed, beaten into a smooth, sticky dough, and finally transformed into small, round cakes of chewy, delicate mochi.

While mochi is enjoyed all year, it is especially important to the Japanese new year’s celebration. On Jan. 1, it is the first thing eaten, in a savory soup called ozoni.

The focal point of mochitsuki is the usu, or mortar, into which a piping hot blob of rice is placed. One person stands and pounds the rice with a long wooden mallet called a kine while another squats to the side of the usu and rapidly turns the rice between each blow, being careful not to get his fingers burned or smashed. Traditionally, both jobs are the provenance of men. But at Senshin last week, everyone got into the act.

Sharon Koga, a research assistant at Rand Corp., took a couple dozen slugs at the rice while another member egged her on with shouts of “farm girl!”--she did, in fact, grow up on a farm--and the more standard exhortations that lend not only a spiritual element to the practice but also a critical rhythm.

When she was through, the pounded mass was transferred to a floured board and delivered to a table of a dozen or so older women whose job was to form the small familiar cakes.

“I look forward to it every year,” said Jean Minami, a secretary, as she squeezed the dough through her thumb and index finger, then pinched it off.

“It takes in all the generations,” said her friend Barbara Tanezaki, a legal administrative assistant.

“And it gives us a chance to talk,” added Minami.

“Gossip,” corrected Tanezaki.

To make the job of forming the cakes more manageable, the women used corn starch. Many wore surgical gloves. When they filled a tray, the cakes were brought to yet another area. Here, moms and their school-age children used brushes to remove the excess corn starch, powdering themselves in the process.

“Sometimes when you rub it really hard, your arm hurts,” said 7-year-old Alyssa Middo. This sentiment was echoed by the temple’s reverend , Masao Kodani, who, after a turn pounding a batch that he doctored with red food coloring, volunteered, “You can’t move after this.”

Aches aside, everyone agreed the effort was well worth it. “Pounding adds a certain body you won’t get in store-made mochi,” said Koga.

“Mochi is the staff of life,” the reverend explained. “Mochi is prosperity for the coming year.” And, fortunately, said Tanezaki, given the volume of the day’s output, “it freezes quite well.”