Tokyo: Nerikiri Sweets & Matcha Class in Shibuya Home

Summary

Make nerikiri sweets in tokyo then sip matcha with locals before exploring shibuya

You’ll step into a real Tokyo home near Shibuya for a hands-on Nerikiri sweets class—shaping delicate treats from sweet bean paste—then share fresh matcha during a relaxed tea ceremony with your local host. Take home your edible creations as souvenirs and start your day early before sightseeing crowds arrive. It’s warm, personal, and quietly memorable.

Step-by-step itinerary

Day 1 — Make Nerikiri sweets and enjoy matcha

• Meet at CHUMS Omotesando
• Walk to host's home
• Create three sample Nerikiri shapes
• Make original Nerikiri design
• Take home your Nerikiri creations
• Enjoy table-style matcha tea ceremony
• Taste premium Japanese sweets

Top questions

Where does the Nerikiri sweets & matcha class take place?

The class takes place in a local home near Omotesando Station in Tokyo, within walking distance of Shibuya and Harajuku.

What time does the experience start?

The workshop starts at 9:00 AM, 1:00 PM, or 3:30 PM.

Is this activity suitable for children or seniors?

Yes, it's suitable for all ages including young children and seniors.

Can vegans or vegetarians join this Nerikiri class?

Yes, the experience is vegan and vegetarian-friendly.

How long does the Nerikiri & matcha experience last?

The activity lasts about 90 minutes.

Do I get to take home what I make?

Yes, you can take home all your handmade Nerikiri creations as souvenirs.

Is hotel pickup included?

No hotel pickup is included; you meet across from CHUMS Omotesando before walking together to the host's home.

Are there public transportation options nearby?

Yes, Omotesando Station is just a 3-minute walk away and public transport is easily accessible.

What’s included

Your morning includes all ingredients and tools for making traditional Nerikiri sweets with guidance from your host in their Tokyo home, plus a casual table-style tea ceremony with freshly whisked matcha and premium Japanese sweets from across Japan—all fees are covered, and you’ll leave with your handmade treats boxed up as edible souvenirs.

What’s the experience like?

“Try to pinch it like this—gently,” Yuki said, her hands moving so precisely that I almost laughed at how clumsy mine looked next to hers. We’d just sat down around her kitchen table in Shibuya, and the morning light was coming in sideways through the window. The smell of sweet beans and something floral—maybe the soap?—hung in the air. I’d never made Nerikiri before, but somehow it felt less like a cooking class and more like being invited into someone’s daily life. My first attempt looked more like a lumpy potato than a cherry blossom, which made everyone laugh (me included).

I kept glancing at the clock because I couldn’t believe it was only 9:30am and already I’d learned how to shape three different Nerikiri designs—honestly, the soft texture is so satisfying to work with, kind of like edible playdough but silkier. Yuki encouraged us to invent our own design for the last one. Mine turned out weirdly abstract (let’s call it “modern art”), but she nodded approvingly anyway. There was this moment when she brought out sweets from other parts of Japan too—tiny works of art—and explained where each came from. Li laughed when I tried to say “wagashi” in Japanese; probably butchered it.

Afterward, we all sat together for a casual tea ceremony at the table. The matcha was bright green and earthy-bitter—I still think about that first sip, honestly—and paired so well with the sweets we’d just made. The whole thing felt unhurried and quietly joyful; outside you could hear distant city sounds but inside it was just us and the soft scrape of bamboo whisk against bowl. When we left (with our creations boxed up), Yuki pointed out which way to Harajuku and Meiji Shrine if we wanted to keep exploring Tokyo after. I liked that.