'I didn't want this to die': The 110-year-old Calif. sweets shop that refuses to quit

Manju and mochi individually wrapped and in a case at Kogetsu-Do in Fresno, Calif., on June 30, 2025. (Lance Yamamoto/SFGATE)

It's not unusual for first-time patrons of Kogetsu-Do to circle the block a few times before they find the sun-bleached storefront and peek into the plate glass windows to make sure it's open. 

For the Japanese confectioner that's been in business for more than a century, part of that is by design. 

Once you step through the threshold, time seems to shed its layers. At Kogetsu-Do, things have been the same for generations. The decorations, the ancient black-and-white family photographs that adorn the walls, and even the anticipatory expressions on the faces of customers who trickle in in ones and twos all speak to a different era - one perhaps quieter, slower, more dignified. 

The confectioner, which occupies the heart of Fresno's Chinatown, is a still viving, still vital time capsule. The location reminds each patron of when the now mostly empty neighborhood was teeming with foot traffic and when shops like Kogetsu-Do were packed with loyal patrons and curious first-timers.

Kogetsu-Do in Fresno, Calif., on June 30, 2025. (Lance Yamamoto/SFGATE)

Kogetsu-Do in Fresno, Calif., on June 30, 2025. (Lance Yamamoto/SFGATE)

Fresh strawberry mochi at Kogetsu-Do in Fresno, Calif., on June 30, 2025. (Lance Yamamoto/SFGATE)

Lynn Ikeda holds tsubu-an with a red bean filling and shiro-an with a white bean filling at Kogetsu-Do in Fresno, Calif., on June 30, 2025. (Lance Yamamoto/SFGATE)

Now, it's the last one standing. And propping all of this up is third-generation owner and confectioner Lynn Ikeda. 

Ikeda is demure in stature but has an outsized presence that fills the room of her family's historic shop. She's a one-woman show at Kogetsu-Do.

She gets up early before dawn four days a week and makes from scratch the sought-after manju (a flour bun with a sweet bean paste filling) or daifuku (mochi with azuki bean, fruit or even candy fillings). The desserts are wrapped in cellophane, labeled and lined up neatly behind the store's original counter or stored in a cooler. 

Ikeda opens Kogetsu-Do's doors around 9 a.m. and shuts them around 1 p.m. - or whenever she runs out of the sweet treats. In between those hours, she introduces curious customers to the world of mochi, carries on with longtime patrons and greets families who've traveled from all over with the same smile, nod and "welcome in" greeting.

From left, Sugimatsu Ikeda, his son Masao and his wife Sakino appear at Kogetsu-Do's original location on Kern Street in Fresno, Calif., in 1915. (Lance Yamamoto/SFGATE)

Ikeda's grandfather, Sugimatsu, started the shop in 1915. In 1942, the family was sent to a prison camp in Arkansas, and they arranged an agreement with a Chinese family, who temporarily took over the shop. The Ikeda family returned to the neighborhood and reopened Kogetsu-Do in 1944. 

Sugimatsu eventually passed it down to his sons Roy and Masao, who was known as Mas, and Mas' wife, Dorothy. That pair ran the store for decades until Lynn, their daughter, started to show an interest in her late 20s. She's been running it by herself for 40 years; at 70, she said she has no reason to stop, despite changes in the neighborhood, consumer tastes and even her own stamina for the physically demanding work. 

"The customers that know me personally. They come in and say, ‘You're not going to retire yet, are you?'" she told SFGATE during a May visit. "I have no plans to. As long as I have my house and am able to breathe, I'll keep going."

But the days are long. The work is hard. The customers are sometimes scarce. The neighborhood is in transition. But she remains, not only for her customers but mostly for her family. 

Kogetsu-Do in Fresno, Calif., on June 30, 2025. (Lance Yamamoto/SFGATE)

Lynn Ikeda holds a box with the original woodblock stamped logo of a crescent moon along with the new logo of a paper crane at Kogetsu-Do in Fresno, Calif., on June 30, 2025. (Lance Yamamoto/SFGATE)

Growing up, Ikeda had few memories of her grandfather, but his everlasting presence became more clear when she observed her uncle and father making the Japanese treats the same way their father did. "I guess that's where it all began," she said.

After her grandfather's death, she started to chip in - and not necessarily by choice. "I was working in the back doing the cakes," she said. "I started in my early teens, like 11 or 12. When you have a family business, they put you back there to work."

"I learned everything from my dad," she continued. "My mom, she would wait on the customers up front. Basically, this is my second home."

Ikeda admits that she's kept the family recipes stored in a special place. Where? She points to her head and nods, "Right here." Ikeda has one daughter, who has her own career in graphic design and who will not carry on with Kogetsu-Do. The recipes and the business, she admits, will most likely die with her. 

Japanese branding irons, woodblock logo blocks and print, business cards and manju at Kogetsu-Do in Fresno, Calif., on June 30, 2025. (Lance Yamamoto/SFGATE)

During a visit from the Fresno Bee about 55 years ago, the store was already a throwback. "A visit to Kogetsu-Do stirs some almost forgotten memories," the newspaper wrote in September 1970. "There in the big glass display cases with the sliding doors on the back are wax balls filled with colored sugar water, penny stickers, bubble gum and licorice."

"The store has been here for so long that almost every Japanese family in the West knows about it and stops on the way through Fresno," Mas Ikeda told the Bee at the time. The name of the confectioner, he explained, means lake moon. Mas also used to hand out cards with a gold crescent moon in the the center surrounded by a blue lake and sky, the Fresno Bee reported. The logo is still displayed on every box of mochi sold. 

Today, the space is still filled with those same display cases and curious items. Along with remaining a cash-only business, at the end of each day, any spare goods are discarded. It is an adherence to her ancestor's ways that Ikeda admits isn't as much by design as it is by habit, and it's one that flows with the change in seasons. 

"New Year's is pretty much," she said, then paused before confirming that the holidays are her busiest time. She trailed off for a moment to think about it a little more. "Actually, any season we're busy - depending on what I do with the mochi." 

Fresh strawberry mochi at Kogetsu-Do in Fresno, Calif., on June 30, 2025. (Lance Yamamoto/SFGATE)

Kogetsu-Do in Fresno, Calif., on June 30, 2025. (Lance Yamamoto/SFGATE)

Fresh strawberry mochi, Kinako mochi with red bean, shiro-an with white bean and tsubu-an with red bean at Kogetsu-Do in Fresno, Calif., on June 30, 2025. (Lance Yamamoto/SFGATE)

Nothing is frozen, so the flavors change with the months, such as the current summer berry season. Right now, Ikeda's daifuku are filled with fresh, locally grown fruit such as strawberries, blueberries and blackberries or a combination of the three.

Kogetsu-Do's offerings are, just like Ikeda, one of a kind. The taste of the mochi is just shy of overwhelmingly sweet, but from the first bite, there is an explosion of the fresh fruit. It's almost too much to bear. The freshness of the confection and its delectable center are notable and unlike anything I've ever tasted.  

This singular treat may be part of the reason customers visit "from LA to San Francisco to San Jose" year-round, she said, recognizing the fact that those who've done their research will find that Kogetsu-Do is not only one of the oldest but also one of the last of its kind. Benkyodo, another mochi purveyor that was once the oldest business in San Francisco's Japantown, closed in 2022. 

Ikeda mentioned the Fugetsu-Do Bakery Shop in Los Angeles' Little Tokyo neighborhood, which is a family-run business that has been selling manju and mochi since 1903. She also highlighted Sakuraya, a mochi shop in Gardena, as one of the best in the state. It doesn't take long to figure out that Ikeda is an irreplaceable figure in a small cohort of surviving shops in California.

Shiro-an with a white bean filling at Kogetsu-Do in Fresno, Calif., on June 30, 2025. (Lance Yamamoto/SFGATE)

To this end, Ikeda admits part of staying afloat means that people from all over seek her out. "There are ones from out of state," she said. "And if they grew up in Fresno and they know about the family, they come back and visit."

Visitors find their way in the early afternoon as Ikeda's stock begins to disappear. On this particular day, she is anticipating closing for two days in the coming week to prepare mochi for a wedding. Once more, she will handle it all on her own. "I'm doing a wedding reception held up north. The people are going to come by and take it up there," she said, her eyes lighting up with the prospect of the task ahead of her. "She ordered 150 count."

When asked if she's still passionate about the business, even when the days are long and the work is grueling, she said yes without pause. 

"I do this mainly to keep the family history going, to honor my grandfather and my dad," she said, catching her breath and seemingly gaining a second wind. "As I was growing up, like my early 20s, I didn't want this to die. I talked to my mom and my dad, I said, ‘I would like to see if I can do this.' My dad passed on, and I looked at my mom and I said, ‘Do you think I can do it?'"

Manju and mochi individually wrapped and in a case at Kogetsu-Do in Fresno, Calif., on June 30, 2025. (Lance Yamamoto/SFGATE)

Lynn Ikeda holds a Japanese branding iron from Japan with the Kogetsu-Do logo at Kogetsu-Do in Fresno, Calif., on June 30, 2025. (Lance Yamamoto/SFGATE)

Various wood molds for Japanese candy and taiyaki at Kogetsu-Do in Fresno, Calif., on June 30, 2025. (Lance Yamamoto/SFGATE)

And she did. As Ikeda started to gather her things and wind down on that Friday afternoon, a pair of young women entered the store quietly and approached, asking what was on offer that day. 

Both women said they come in semi-regularly just to see what Ikeda has. "We just grew up around the area," Brenda Nava said. "Today, we were just driving around."

"I got the mochi," Carlianne Lopez said.

"Crushed blueberry," Nava said, holding up her treat. "I like apricot, which she does sometimes, but doesn't have today."

Things come in waves, and the presence of the two women set off a mini-rush.

Fresh strawberry mochi, Kinako mochi with red bean, shiro-an with white bean and tsubu-an with red bean at Kogetsu-Do in Fresno, Calif., on June 30, 2025. (Lance Yamamoto/SFGATE)

An impromptu queue formed out the door, mostly teenagers and 20-somethings (thanks, perhaps, to an ongoing series of TikToks featuring the shop). All of the customers said that they grew up around Fresno and were enamored with the place, constantly drawn here. Ikeda was patient with all of them, explaining what she had left, her process and even a little bit of her family's history for those who were curious enough to ask. 

As Ikeda went through the different flavors for some of the customers during the last-minute surge, she highlighted the remaining berry treats, encouraging the young patrons to give the locally grown fresh fruit fillings a shot. But in that moment, she caught herself and paused, seemingly to check in with a voice in her head. 

Ikeda cleared her throat and gave, as her family always has, the decision back to her customer. "But you decide," she said. 

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