Wasabi Oil Project – Overwintering in the Mountain Stream

Wasabi Oil Project – A Record of Overwintering

Last autumn, I transplanted the wasabi that had been growing quietly in my family’s garden to a small mountain stream behind the house.

In the garden, the wasabi had spread modestly beneath a maple tree. Even though no stream flowed there, the plants continued to multiply after last year’s transplanting. These were strong, resilient stocks—able to survive even when the water ran dry. Now, in the mountain stream, that strength is beginning to return to its natural form.

The new home is a quiet, half-shaded place where clear spring water spills gently over a small weir.

If the garden wasabi was truly sawa-wasabi—true stream wasabi—then white, cross-shaped flowers should bloom in spring after a successful winter. With that hope in mind, I waited through the long winter months.

When the snow began to melt, my mother sent word: “The leaves have really increased.”

And on the final day of Golden Week, I went to see for myself.

There they were—white cross-shaped flowers in bloom, glossy leaves spreading wide, and thick, sturdy stems. The plants looked vibrant, as if they had truly taken a liking to this place.

The leaves were thick, the color deep, and the tiny flowers charming. Compared to their days in the garden, they seemed far more at ease—growing freely and confidently.

From the shape and texture of the leaves and the way the flowers bloom, I’m convinced now: this is indeed sawa-wasabi (true wasabi). The strong stocks that survived in the garden are finally returning to the environment where they belong.

This year, I won’t dig up the roots. I’ll take only a few leaves and flowers, and let the plants continue to grow quietly.

The day I make wasabi oil will come a little later—something to look forward to.

The flavor nurtured by stream water, mountain air, and the microorganisms of this land. I’ll watch over it as it grows, slowly, gently, in its own time.