Photo: Nep
There’s a big crowd gathering in front of the display windows at the upmarket Matsuzakaya department store in Tokyo’s posh Ginza neighbourhood.
Dozens of people are gazing dazzled at a baker putting glazing on a huge cake fixed unto a slowly revolving spear. He then delicately removes the cake and cuts it into small wheel like pieces that are instantly cooled, wrapped, put into boxes, and sold to the patiently waiting customers.
It’s a baumkuchen – or as the Tokyoites call it bamukuheno – a persistent cake craze in the Japanese capital, that for some years have drawn a steady throng of customers every single day.
Copyright: Aske Munck
Even though there’re about 40 people queuing before us, we decide to put our patience to the test. We’ve heard much about the wonders of the bamukuheno, especially the ones from Nenrinya, Tokyo’s top purveyor to the people of this so-called king of cakes.
But when we try to join the end of the queue, a polite cake-queue usher points us towards the stairs where the rest of the customers another 20-30 people are waiting, the line having been cut in two to free the shopping mall entrance from the sugar craving hordes and allow for free entry and exit.
The wait, however, as everything else in super efficient Tokyo proves to be very brief. Not least due to the fact that Nenrinya has cut down the choice to two kinds of cake (white or chocolate) in different piece sizes, all explained to you by eager and polite staff, so you can make your choice while you wait in line instead of clogging up the busy counter.
Copyright: Aske Munck
The baumkuchen is – as the name reveals – a European conception and literally means tree cake. The name refers to the numerous rings in the cake, created as many layers of batter are brushed onto the spits, slowly giving the cake its body and robustness.
It’s a time consuming process which explains the relatively elevated price. Minimum price tag is 750 yen for a small piece, whereas the cheapest ring size piece will set you back 1,050 yen.
Copyright: Aske Munck
While waiting we consider which size we should opt for as it’s really difficult to assess how much cake it will take to soak up the minor tsunami of mouth water that has slowly been building up as our nostrils have feasted on the Christmassy scent of the baking cakes. We opt for a regular ring size, though, deciding it’s big enough to last for at least two days.
We decide to make the cake star in an improvised hotel room afternoon tea for two, and it is tasty. Unbelievably so. Releasing hints of vanilla as you crush the many thin rings of sugar coating, hidden within the fine layered cake.
Copyright: Aske Munck
We quickly learn, however, the trouble with eating a corner of a round thing: there are none. The entire cake disappears before our very eyes in a matter of minutes. Our ephemeral slice of paradise gone, in an uncontrollable saccharine feeding frenzy, leaving us both bewildered, contemplating whether we should go back to Ginza for more.
NENRINYA, Ground Floor, Matsuzakya, 10-1 Ginza, Tokyo Chuo-ku.
