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A Westerner who has ever been to Japan has probably felt both admiration and uncertainty when encountering traditional Japanese confectionery, wagashi, for the first time.

The sweets look like, well, not like what one usually expects from a sweet. Sometimes they look like marzipan or stuffed buns, while at other times they appear to have very little in common with food at all.

However, that is not to say that they are unappealing. Far from it. In fact, they are cute, quirky and at their core, distinctly Japanese.

When I tried my first mochi (sweet bread stuffed with bean paste), all I could taste was a distantly sweet flavour. It didn`t impress me much. However, the next time I ate it while attending a traditional Japanese tea ceremony. At that time, there was nothing better than the combination of wagashi and green tea.

What has always amazed me the most about wagashi is the fact that although its production is very time-consuming, its shelf life usually doesn`t exceed two or three days. It doesn`t seem efficient, but it perfectly represents the Japanese view of the world.

Beauty in fragility is one of the basic concepts of wabisabi, a Japanese philosophy which finds aesthetic satisfaction in transience of nature. From here the seasonal aspect of wagashi arises as well. Many sweets can be found only during a certain period of time – for example, sakuramochi (cherry blossom candy), which appears on shelves only when the cherry blossom trees are in bloom.

By the way, even though wagashi is a very traditional food, over time it has absorbed and adapted recipes from all over the world. Though it is quite a challenge at times to find for example traces of Portuguese cuisine in popular sugar candies such as konpeito, which are sold in any convenience store in Japan. Borrowing and adjusting to local realities is a widely known feature of not only Japanese management but culture and traditions as well. And Japanese cuisine is one of the best examples of it.