I was told this is the “bestest, softest, most orgasmic” warabimochi in KL, let’s go

In the bustling heart of KL, I found myself tangled in a sweet debate about the warabimochi at Torori Tenshi No Warabi Mochi, tucked away in J’s Gate Dining at Lot 10.

Well, it was more like the debate was thrown at me. Some of my colleagues can’t stop raving about how it’s the softest, most ‘orgasmic’ (a bit extreme, right?) warabimochi they’ve ever tasted; while others roll their eyes and insist it’s overrated and overpriced.

As someone who’s had their fair share of desserts, I was intrigued—and a little sceptical—by all the hype.

Could this really be the best warabimochi in KL? Even if it was, would I enjoy it? With each bite, I was pulled deeper into the fervent controversy surrounding it. Let me just foreshadow: when it comes to warabimochi, the opinions are as varied as the flavours.

Buckle up—this might get sticky!

My honest review of the “bestest, softest, most orgasmic” warabimochi in KL

Warabi-Mochi Hojicha Drink (RM20)

I was genuinely pleasantly surprised by the creamy sweetness of the hojicha. It wasn’t as bitter as I was expecting it to be, making for a soothing and refreshingly enjoyable drink that I sipped on enthusiastically after a long day at work.

The addition of mochi brought a lovely textural contrast, bouncy yet soft. Biting into it enhanced the drink’s sweetness without being too overwhelming. That said, some might find this drink a tad too sweet. A reduction in warabimochi and an increase in cream may strike a better balance for them.

The whipped cream was indeed a nice touch—not too sweet, providing just the right amount of creaminess to balance the flavours. Despite so much going on in that small cup, with each sip, the hojicha flavour remained distinct, which I truly appreciated.

I was taken aback by how much I enjoyed this drink and think that it’s a great option for anyone craving a sweet treat. However, the RM20 price tag is a bit steep for what you get. I doubt I’d be willing to pay that much for it again.

Pro tip: always ask for less ice to maximise your drink.

Warabi-Mochi Soybean (RM25)

Now, onto the main reason I found myself in Lot 10: the warabimochi.

When I first bit into the cold mochi coated generously with soybean powder, I eagerly expected a burst of flavour. Unfortunately, while I liked the refreshing chill of the mochi, the soybean coating felt bland with a hint of bitterness, and didn’t provide the depth I was hoping for.

Don’t come for me, but I couldn’t help but compare it to muah chee, which has a more robust, nutty flavour and at least some chewiness.

Here, I found the mochi excessively soft, which made the texture feel mushy rather than pleasantly chewy. While I understand that warabimochi is meant to be soft, the balance between soybean powder and jelly-like mochi just didn’t work for me. It lacked the complex flavours I often crave—one bite and it simply dissolves, the taste dissipating too quickly, leaving little for my palate to savour.

For an experience like that, RM25 feels a bit much, don’t you think? It’s like paying that much for cotton candy—fun but ultimately lacking in substance.

Warabimochi: an acquired taste?

Yet, I can’t ignore the enthusiastic cries of my colleagues who sing praises for this warabimochi, making me wonder if my critique is a bit too harsh. There must be a reason this Osaka-born mochi brand has over 100 outlets in Japan today, right?

I truly enjoyed the hojicha drink, but the warabimochi simply fell short for me. This makes me question whether warabimochi is an acquired taste, much like many dishes in today’s creative food scene.

While I found the warabimochi to dissolve too quickly in my mouth, my colleagues argue that it boasts a delightful melt-in-your-mouth texture that is precisely what it’s meant to have. Its coolness makes it a refreshing treat during the summertime in Japan, which I can understand.

You can see how I got sucked into the controversy, right? This led me to the conclusion that when it comes to warabimochi, opinions are as varied as the flavours. Personally, I believe that its melt-in-your-mouth, jelly-like texture is indeed an acquired taste.

Would I recommend trying it? Of course! But if you, like me, have never tried warabimochi before and are a big fan of traditional mochi, I’d say: manage your expectations.

Ongoing warabimochi dilemma

All in all, my quick stop here set me back a whopping RM45. Do I think it’s worth it? Yes and no. It’s one of those things you have to try to see if it’s for you.

While I personally didn’t enjoy it as much, I can’t deny that it is indeed the bestest, softest, most orgasmic (debatable) warabimochi in KL—because it embodies exactly what warabimochi is supposed to be for those who love it.

If you’re not specifically looking for this small stall in Lot 10, you might just miss it, so keep your eyes peeled.