1) Hiroko Sakan, a Japanese immigrant, opened Japonaise Bakery in 1985 in Massachusetts after her husband passed away, blending French and Japanese baking traditions. 2) Despite closing multiple locations, the sole remaining store in Brookline survives due to Hiroko's strong work ethic and the help of her son Takeo and assistant Jared. 3) After over 30 years in business, Hiroko is looking to slow down and pass more responsibility to Takeo, though their relationship is strained by long hours spent arguing in the small kitchen.

1. Sclapari 1
Beatrice Sclapari
Professor Kumer
Food Writing
April 6, 2017
Behind the Kitchen Door
It is 3:00 a.m., and while the rest of the city sleeps, the baker shuts the door of her home
and slides through the back door of her bakery.
“This is the hardest business in the world,” the five foot baker warned, with her soft voice
barely traveling through the long grey bangs covering her face.
Japonaise Bakery and Cafe, located at Brookline’s 1020 Beacon Street, adopted its French
name because of its’ delicious intersection of French and Japanese culinary traditions. A product
of thirty one years of sleepless nights and laborious days; the business is Hiroko Sakan’s fourth
child.
Two years ago, I first stumbled upon this gem while giving into my uncontrollable desire
for sweets. With no expectations, I walked into the maroon colored storefront, went into autopilot
and ordered my childhood favorite: a pain au chocolat.
I was not disappointed.
After that, I kept coming back. Eating my way down the extensive menu, one pastry at a
time, degusting the amalgamation of Eastern and Western worlds. Artisanal mochi ice cream, fresh
tapioca boba tea, matcha bread, chocolate dipped macaroons, curried donuts, azuki cream… the
list of treats continues.
Although the bakery is conveniently only a couple streets behind Boston University’s
central campus, I would shamelessly travel miles for one, two, or three of Hiroko’s baked goods.

2. Sclapari 2
Japonaise Bakery, crushed under the difficulties of the industry, suffered three store
closures. It first opened in Newton, Massachussets, in 1985, but closed a few years ago. Next was
its Allston location, also closing permanently in 2013, when it merged with the current Brookline
location. Following the demise of the third shop, in Porter Square, Brookline is the only remaining
outpost. With its’ focus on one location, the business is more stable.
The bakery is open 9 a.m. - 8:30 p.m. daily.
A self taught baker, with limited knowledge on how to run a business, Hiroko took a chance
when deciding to turn her passion into a profession.
Arriving from a pocket-sized town two hours from Fukushima, Hiroko and her husband,
Kunio, left all they knew and moved to the Boston area in 1977. Kunio, a family man, scholar and
organic chemist, was recognized for his contributions in his field and came to Harvard to conduct
research.
Less than a decade later, Hiroko found her husband’s dead body on the floor of their
bathroom when he was only 39. With the pressing need to provide for her three children, she
bravely took on the challenge of starting the Japonaise Bakery & Café a year after her husband's
passing.
As therapy, Hiroko spent entire days in the kitchen baking and, with the advice of her
children, decided to turn it into a business.
Despite hardships that would leave many cold and pessimistic about life, Hiroko remains
patient and welcoming to all those who come into the bakery.
Self taught, Hiroko builds the menu not from recipes, but from trial and error. Bowls of
unused batter and unfinished pastries lay around in the already-overflowing kitchen.

3. Sclapari 3
The baker distances herself from traditional Japanese recipes that seem “too bland” for her.
This is her silent rebellion.
“Her work ethic and distinguished palate are why this bakery is successful.” Takeo, 34,
Hiroko’s youngest son and assistant baker, described his mother with great respect. As Hiroko
ages, she plans for Takeo to take the baton.
The two inevitably bicker, as they navigate through the small, hot kitchen.
“Takeo listens to everyone but me,” his mother said as she chuckled, “He is the son that
cares the most, but we are too alike to spend a moment without arguing.”
Hiroko, despite residing in the United States for several decades, resists the often-forced
process of assimilation. While still challenging her native culture, she embraces a role traditionally
dominated by men. Her soft, yet assertive, tone sets the unwritten rule that until she works in the
bakery, she is the master.
“This is America. Kids do not listen here,” she said. “I have to remind Takeo that I am not
an American mother.”
Her critiques come from her own experiences, where sternness meant emotional and
financial stability. Hiroko’s devotion to the bakery, especially in its first years, did not allow her
time for much else. Raising her kids from the distance of the bakery, left the eldest son, Kaoru,
largely raised Takeo and his younger brother Takiro.
Now, working with Takeo, from 3:00 a.m. until 8:00 p.m. the dynamic duo spend more
time together than ever. Unused to professing affection, their way of communicating relies on the
back and forth bickering. She explains that in Japan, familial affection is typically less obvious
than in many Western cultures. Their hands, working tirelessly to keep their family business alive
demonstrate profound affection, however.

4. Sclapari 4
A constant influx of baked goods coming from the three ovens, infesting sweet aromatics
into the humid air of the kitchen. Water from the sink streams onto the used, buttery baking trays.
The floury tables are covered in fresh dough, waiting to be kneaded.
Each pastry, carefully crafted, is finished off with a light layer of powdered sugar and
placed in the display case, tantalizing each customer that walks through the door.
In the small work space there is, however, a crucial third member to the team. Jared
Krawitz, 23, grew up around the corner from the bakery and was raised on Hiroko’s treats.
Hiroko’s generous nature cemented a friendship between the two. Every afternoon, the
baker had the young boy’s favorite pastry ready for him. Jared’s curiosity led him to spend his
afternoons simply observing Hiroko at the bakey. Without noticing, he absorbed much of the
Japanese language and the craft of baking.
Jared, inspired by Hiroko, studied Japanese literature at university and, upon graduating,
joined Hiroko in the kitchen as his full time profession.
Hiroko’s perseverance has set a great culture at the bakery. Although the work is hard
positivity reigns among the three bakers with their hair scuffled and aprons covered in floor.
“We do not complain in the kitchen. No matter what,” Jared said, as Japanese music played
in the background.
The only point of complaint from Hiroko was Takeo’s relationship status. Throughout my
afternoon in the kitchen with the duo, Hiroko repeated her concerns that he, at the age of 28, is still
single due to the demands of the profession.
“Why don’t you marry him?” Takeo asked me. After some laughter, they resumed their
usual baking.
Their hard work has not gone unnoticed.

5. Sclapari 5
Japonaise Bakery is not only recognized by Boston locals and visitors, but also by big
names in the industry. The Azuki Cream pastry, one of the bakeries’ signature pastries, featured on
the Food Network show The Best Thing I Ever Ate. The round, flaky, freshly baked croissant, hugs
a thin layer of red bean paste, topped with a generous amount of fluffy, homemade whipped cream.
All for the modest price of $1.75.
It also scored a spot on “Saveur’s Top 100” in 2010.
Gabriella Falla is one of the bakery’s loyal customers. As a junior at Boston University,
living only a few steps away from Hiroko’s delicacies, the student’s sweet fix relies on Japonaise
Bakery’s famous buttery, flaky croissant.
Despite living in France for several years, she swears that Hiroko’s special touch on the
french staple makes it even better than those she grew up on.
“Although the typical college student packs on pounds from the dining hall, for me Hiroko
is to blame, ” Gabriella says, laughing.
The unpretentious atmosphere combined with high level baking leaves customers coming
back.
Now, Hariko understands she has done enough for the bakery and for her children.
“I know it is time for me to start letting go,” gazing straight into her son’s eyes from across
the kitchen. “I am getting tired.”