And then came the big day—July 23.
I double-checked all my tools and ingredients until midnight the night before, grabbed a quick nap, and woke up at 3 a.m. to load everything into the car and head out.
I arrived at the venue by 5 a.m., unpacked my supplies, and immediately started prepping.
Following the schedule I had carefully planned in advance, I got to work on the production process. But…
Everything Took Longer Than Expected!
Since I also had to wash tools as I went, the reality of solo production quickly hit me. After five hours, I started to feel anxious—“I might not finish in time for opening.”
Even though I worked non-stop for eight hours without a single break, prep didn’t finish until exactly 1 p.m.—the scheduled opening time. I was pretty panicked.
Setup Was a Race Against the Clock!
On top of that, I still had to package the wagashi and set up the store.
I pushed through my exhaustion, managed to pack 10 pieces of each item, and scrambled to finish the store setup.
In the end, I didn’t open until after 2 p.m.
I was disappointed in my poor time estimate, but I took a deep breath, switched gears, and stepped behind the counter.
It was my first time working in sales in five years.
I fumbled with giving change and bagging items in the right order—honestly, I was a bit of a mess at first (haha). It took a while to get back into the groove.
To make matters worse, I realized the paper bags I had prepared were too narrow at the base. Even the larger ones couldn’t fit three pieces side by side neatly, and the presentation looked awkward…
I regretted not practicing bagging at home beforehand—but told myself, “It’s your first time. It’s okay!”
When I stepped outside, I saw that the venue owner had kindly set up signs and decorations for me. I was so grateful.
A Hot, Quiet Afternoon
A few customers came right after I opened—but after that, things went quiet.
Around 3 p.m., the hottest time of the day, the heat was brutal. Plus, it was a Wednesday, right in the middle of the workweek.
The shop was tucked away in an alley with little foot traffic, and from 3 to 5 p.m., no one came at all.
Worried, I quickly put out some samples on plates outside, hoping that passersby would stop and taste them.
But it was rush hour—and most people were zooming by on bicycles, barely glancing over. Hardly anyone stopped. The plan didn’t work.
Still, from 6 p.m. to closing at 7 p.m., a few customers did stop by, and I was able to make some sales.
One young person even showed interest in the Wagashi Cake (Lemon Yogurt flavor) and decided to buy it. That made me really happy.
Final Results & Reflections
In total, 10 customers came. It was fewer than I had hoped, but I was able to meet my minimum goal of covering the venue rental cost.
That some people took the time to come buy wagashi made by a completely unknown wagashi artisan—and that I handled everything alone, from preparation to production to sales—was a huge confidence boost and a valuable experience for me.
Of course, there are tons of things I could improve.
But because I actually did it, I gained so many insights and lessons I could never have learned otherwise.
Moving forward, I want to build on this experience and try selling at local markets and eventually open my online shop.
“I want to share wagashi that I truly find delicious with more people.”
With that hope in my heart, I’ll keep moving forward, one step at a time.
Next up: I’m planning to join a market event this autumn! I’ll be sure to share the details when everything is finalized—so stay tuned!