An encounter with a wooden rice paddle
The wooden rice paddle I saw at a friend's house the other day has been on my mind ever since.
Its well-used wood surface had a subtle sheen, and it felt surprisingly comfortable in my hand.
While lightweight and easy-to-handle plastic alternatives have become more common, I still prefer to feel the warmth of wood.
When I asked where it was from, she told me it was a "Miyajima Kogei Seisakusho rice paddle."
Being from Hiroshima, she proudly declared, "When it comes to rice paddles, it has to be Hiroshima."
In Hiroshima, rice paddles have long been cherished as lucky charms.
Miyajima Kogei Seisakusho, which continues to produce Miyajima rice paddles said to "scoop up good fortune," is a well-known local workshop that has been crafting durable tools through meticulous handiwork for generations.
Her grandmother and mother, too, had always used Miyajima Kogei Seisakusho's rice paddles. For her, choosing a rice paddle from this workshop was simply a natural choice.
Hearing that story, I thought the comfort of use must surely be authentic.
Miyajima Kogei Seisakusho
Since I had plans to visit Hiroshima, I decided to visit the workshop of "Miyajima Kogei Seisakusho."
As the boat arrived at the island, a calm sea and pleasant sea breeze greeted me.
The workshop stood quietly in a place overlooking the torii gate of Itsukushima Shrine, a World Heritage site.
A large rice paddle adorned the entrance, its appearance conveying a sense of deep history. Upon opening the door, a gentle scent of wood wafted out, and along with the sound of old machinery, the rhythm of artisans' handiwork continued uninterrupted in the workshop at the back.
Upon entering the workshop, the first thing that catches the eye is a wall covered with rice paddles and spatulas. Their shapes, sizes, and uses vary, and no two are exactly alike.
Items inscribed with "Fighting Spirit" and "Certain Victory," as well as commemorative pieces, were also displayed, conveying the years the workshop has endured and the sentiments people have poured into them.
It is said that rice paddles, pronounced "shamoji," were associated with "meshi wo toru" (taking rice) which sounds like "meshitoru" (taking over/conquering), and were even used as tools for praying for victory on the battlefield. Knowing this background, each one hanging on the wall seemed like proof of wishes and prayers that had been scooped up.
Countless wooden molds are neatly arranged on the shelves.
"Sushi spatulas," "ladles," "butter knives." The handwritten characters, with slightly faded ink from permanent markers, also conveyed a sense of history. The thoughts and experiences of artisans who have continuously innovated to suit different uses seemed to breathe life into each mold.
The wood used is mountain cherry, which grows naturally in the mountains of northern Hiroshima Prefecture.
Because the wood grows near Miyajima, they are able to consistently obtain high-quality material. This wood is strong and elastic, making it resistant to warping even after prolonged use, and it develops a deeper red hue and richness with age.
This transformation, as if it were growing into one's own tool, made it even more appealing.
Shapes born from a single piece of wood
In the quiet space, the sounds of cutting and carving wood resonate pleasantly, and light wood dust dances in the air.
In a corner of the workshop, an artisan placed a board on a desk and began tracing the shapes of rice paddles and spatulas with a pencil.
Reading the grain of the wood, he drew with sure movements, as if conversing with the wood, determining which part would become the handle and which the scooping surface.
The sight of shapes being drawn densely like a puzzle on a single board felt like the very essence of the workshop's philosophy: to "utilize every bit of wood."
As the artisan cut along the drawn lines, the shapes of rice paddles and spatulas emerged from the wood. The cut-out blanks were still angular.
From there, the artisan adjusted the thickness using a mold and carved out the curves, gradually bringing them closer to the familiar shapes of the tools we know. His posture, as he faced the wood blank, exuded years of accumulated experience and a passion for craftsmanship.
Once the carving process is complete, the wooden blank is passed on to the polishing artisan.
From here on begins a period of diligently facing the wood blank to refine its appearance as a tool.
Touching the wooden blank before polishing, one feels a slightly rough texture, as if the wood's breath still remains. First, the shape is refined with coarse-grit sandpaper, then gradually transitioning to finer grits, carefully smoothing out the rough surface.
"Do they really go this far?" one might think, as the process is repeated many, many times.
Only then does that smooth texture, which clings to the palm of the hand, emerge.
As the finishing touches neared completion, the wooden surface took on a subtle glow, developing a gentle sheen as if coated with a thin film, despite being unfinished.
Through these processes, artisans craft numerous rice paddles and spatulas every day.
Looking at the finished products arranged, their shapes, thicknesses, and curves are so perfectly uniform that it's hard to believe they're handmade, and I couldn't help but gaze in admiration.
It feels as if the artisans' reliable skill and refined sensibility are embodied in each piece.
Eight tools that blend into daily life
I picked up a few of the tools I had seen in the workshop.
First, indispensable for daily meals are the "Marue Maru Shamoji (Round Handle Round Rice Paddle)" and "Marue Naname Shamoji (Round Handle Diagonal Rice Paddle)."
In Miyajima, rice paddles are also called "shamoji" due to the remnants of the Miyajima shamoji tradition. The Maru Shamoji, with its round head, gently scoops fluffy cooked rice. Its symmetrical shape makes it easy to use regardless of handedness. The Naname Shamoji is recommended when you want to mix rice as if cutting it, and the power from your hand is easily transmitted.
For stir-fries, the "Sakura Naname Turner (Cherry Diagonal Turner)" is ideal. For thick dishes, the perforated type is convenient, significantly enhancing ease of mixing.
For soups and hot pots, the "Tokujo Chokkaku Otama (Premium Right-Angle Ladle)" is easy to use; its slightly bent handle allows it to be hung on the rim of a pot, eliminating the hassle of finding a place to put it during cooking. The "Otama Shamoji (Ladle Paddle)" is also easy to handle, completing the actions of scooping, stirring, and flipping all in one.
Since all of them are wooden tools, they are less likely to scratch the surface of frying pans and pots, which is another comforting advantage.
The smaller spatulas are also excellent tools that I would love to acquire.
The "Sushi Spatula" is just the right size for spreading vinegared rice on seaweed on hand-rolled sushi days. It's also cute and perfect for parties.
The "Miso Spatula" makes scooping and dissolving miso easy, becoming a quiet, reliable presence in the daily kitchen.
For my home, I first acquired the Marue Naname Shamoji, Tokujo Chokkaku Otama, and Sakura Naname Turner. Since the day they arrived home, I've noticed them being used almost every day.
I plan to gradually add more to my collection.
Cherry wood that grows with your life
Since visiting the workshop, my feelings when picking up a rice paddle have changed slightly.
Every time I serve rice, the moment I touch the wood surface, the atmosphere of that workshop and the movements of the artisans' hands vividly return to me.
Cherry wood deepens in redness with use, and the time it has been touched manifests as its richness. It transforms little by little, day by day, growing into "my own tool." I felt that this process is the greatest charm of wooden tools.
I am very much looking forward to seeing how it will color and what kind of character it will develop in the future.
I am now very much looking forward to watching that transformation unfold little by little in my daily kitchen.
