【Easy Dessert】After attempting to make shiratama from shiratama flour for the first time in my life, my family had a wonderful time together

With just shiratama flour and water, the whole family embarked on making shiratama for the first time. As we enjoyed shiratama dumplings topped with sweet red bean paste, matcha ice cream, and black sesame kinako on the balcony, the days when I can say, "Shall we try making shiratama?" have increased.

I wanted to try making shiratama dango that I had at a sweet shop

When it comes to shiratama dango, it's something I occasionally eat at a sweet shop. They are available in the dessert section of supermarkets, but I never thought about making them myself, nor did I give much thought to how that chewy texture is created.

So, on a long autumn night, with a little time to spare, I decided I wanted to "try making that from scratch." I heard that you can make it with just flour and water, and when I called out to my children, they quickly gathered in the kitchen. This marked the beginning of our family's first attempt at making shiratama.

With the four ingredients gathered from the supermarket, we're aiming for the taste of a sweet shop

I prepared four items: shiratama flour, strained sweet bean paste, black sesame soybean flour, and matcha ice cream. All of these could be found at the nearby supermarket. By adding these to the shiratama, it should turn into a plate that resembles what I saw at the sweet shop. I selected the ingredients while imagining the finished product.

As I opened the bag of shiratama flour and poured 200g into a bowl while measuring it, the white powder fell gently.

Could this white powder become that chewy shiratama just by adding water and kneading? I was already a bit excited before making it. Next to me, the children are peering into the bowl, asking, "Is this going to become shiratama?"

For 200g of shiratama flour, you'll need about 190ml of water, and then just knead it

For 200g of shiratama flour, you'll need about 190ml of water. It seems that the key is not to add it all at once, but to add it gradually while kneading. I left the task of pouring the water to my daughter. Holding her favorite cup with both hands, she carefully pours a little stream over the flour, looking very serious.

At first, the flour didn't come together and crumbled, but as we kneaded it repeatedly, it gradually formed into a lump.

Soon, my son joined in, and the bowl was filled with small hands and large hands. Every time our palms turned white with flour, laughter erupted, and the kneading itself turned into a playful time.

With the softness of an earlobe, the size is flexible.

What I aim for is the softness of an earlobe. I add a little water and knead it, pinching the dough and comparing it to my own earlobe, checking to see if "maybe a bit more water" or "is this about right" as I finish it. If it's too hard, it seems like the surface will crack when rolled, and if it's too soft, the shape will sag. The perfect elasticity relies only on the feel in my hands, which makes this process interesting.

Once it reaches a good texture, I tear off pieces one by one and roll them. Rolling them in my palms makes the surface smooth and it's pleasantly satisfying, and before I know it, I find myself silently continuing to roll them.

I decided that it's okay not to make them all the same size, so I let the children roll them freely as well. When arranged on the tray, they were wonderfully varied in shape and size, with some being large, some small, and some a bit flat. Guessing later who made which shiratama is also a fun aspect of handmade creations.

The moment they floated up, cheers involuntarily erupted.

For boiling the shiratama, I used a deeper frying pan I had on hand. As I gently dropped the shiratama into the well-boiling water, those that were initially sinking to the bottom floated up after a while.

Peering into the frying pan alongside the children, every time one floats up, we hear cheers of "It's floating!"

After waiting about 1 to 2 minutes for them to float up, we use a net ladle to scoop them up in the order they floated and transfer them to cold water. Once they are fully cooled, drain the excess water, and it's complete.

The white dumplings I held in my hand had a glossy surface and a slightly translucent whiteness. The uneven particles were shaped as if they had been properly made at a sweet shop, and the sense of having made them from flour began to swell within me.

Finish with sweet red bean paste, matcha ice cream, and black sesame soybean flour

Stack the drained white dumplings in a bowl. Just by placing the irregularly shaped dumplings, big, small, and flat, into the bowl, a sense of affection began to emerge. The white dumplings, firmly chilled in cold water, were shining in the bowl, already looking delicious at this point.

Next, generously add the smooth red bean paste. Squeeze it directly from the bag and mound it up beside the shiratama, instantly giving it a traditional Japanese sweet atmosphere. Whether to keep the sweetness moderate or to pile it on high is a freedom unique to homemade.

Then, scoop up some matcha ice cream. Placing it between the shiratama and the red bean paste, the vibrant green pops out, and the bowl becomes lively all at once. As I serve the same to the children, both of them lean in to compare which ice cream is bigger.

Finally, I sprinkle some black sesame kinako on top. When I tilt the bag, a toasty aroma wafts up, and the golden powder piles onto the shiratama, with the black sesame seeds adding an accent.

White, adzuki red, matcha green, and the golden kinako. When the four colors line up in the bowl, it draws closer to the shiratama I envisioned from a sweet shop. The children, who had been waiting for the plating, are already gripping their spoons, ready. Having done everything from kneading, rolling, boiling, to plating all by themselves, the satisfaction of the finished product was exceptional.

On a pleasant autumn night breeze on the balcony, for the evening dessert.

Since it’s a special occasion, I took the finished bowl and stepped out onto the balcony. It was completely dark outside, and the slightly cool night breeze felt pleasant. Surrounded by green leaves on the balcony, I enjoyed the shiratama while gazing at the lights of the distant city.

The shiratama had a chewy texture, and the sweetness of the smooth red bean paste paired well with the nutty aroma of black sesame soy flour. The slightly melted matcha ice cream clung to the shiratama, and its bitterness balanced the overall sweetness. The irregularly shaped shiratama had slightly different textures with each piece, which might have been a nice touch.

The next day, I had some as an afternoon snack

Since I had leftover ingredients, I decided to enjoy them as an afternoon snack the next day. This time, it was around lunchtime when the sunlight was pouring in. I spread out an artificial turf mat on the balcony, and after placing a wooden chair, it created a nice little terrace setting.

The shiratama under the bright light stood out even more with its glossy whiteness. My daughter sat on a small chair, quietly moving her spoon while cradling the bowl in both hands. She mixed the melted matcha ice cream and black sesame soy flour with the shiratama and brought it to her mouth, occasionally looking up and smiling.

By the time the inside of the bowl was completely dyed in matcha color, she had finished eating nicely. At night, it was a leisurely treat for adults, while during the day, it became an engaging snack for children. It was refreshing to see how the same shiratama could bring about different experiences depending on the time of day.

"Shall we try making shiratama?"

What I realized after trying it is that making shiratama does not require special tools or skills. Just mix the flour with water, knead it, roll it into balls, and boil them. With just one frying pan, everyone in the family, from children to adults, can take part and have their own role.

Until now, snacks meant simply laying out store-bought items, but from now on, I have the option to invite the kids to the kitchen with, "Shall we make shiratama today?" By putting chairs out on the balcony, our usual home can also become a little sweet shop. I'm already thinking about changing the toppings to seasonal fruits or trying to color the shiratama for next weekend's plan.

Interview/Writing by SYURI

Search Commercial use red bean paste on Amazon

Search Commercial use shiratama flour on Amazon