The Engawa Café: A Relaxing Spot in a Traditional House in Tokyo

Relaxing in an “In-Between” Space

The Engawa Café, set up in an old private home in the north of Tokyo, has all the features of traditional residential architecture. The engawa in its name is a wooden-floored corridor marking the boundary between indoors and outdoors in a home. It lets light and seasonal breezes into the interior to soften extremes of heat or cold and provides a relaxing, comforting space. In the past, neighbors might simply walk into the garden and perch themselves on the engawa ledge for a chat rather than approach through the main genkan entrance.

The engawa at this café is used creatively and it holds particular appeal for me.

The engawa wooden-floored corridor marks the boundary between indoors and outdoors. (© Kawaguchi Yōko)

The café can be found at Shōwa no Ie in Adachi, Tokyo. Erected in 1939, this Japanese-style home with a western-style annex is a welcoming spot in the neighborhood. The house’s tasteful design and quiet surroundings struck me as the ideal spot to enjoy coffee and dessert.

Entering A Different World

Engawa Café is a 14-minute walk from Takenotsuka station on the Tōbu Skytree Line. The property is surrounded by a white wall, and as I pass through the gate and walk along the path in dappled sunlight, the air feels different. I can hear a dried leaf falling to the ground, and birdsong fills the air.

The sign at the entrance indicates that the café is open. (© Kawaguchi Yōko)

After passing through the noren entrance curtain and removing my footwear, I turn right and move along a tatami-floored corridor to reach the café. Through the large expanse of windows, the garden’s rich greenery sparkles. The café occupies the wide-open engawa, a 30-tatami-mat zashiki room past the fusuma sliding doors, and two small rooms at either end of the engawa.

The engawa and the spacious zashiki offer fine views of the garden. (© Kawaguchi Yōko)

Taking a seat in the engawa, I peruse the menu. Among the caffè latte, fruit tea, black tea and other selections, I choose pour-over coffee and a tart featuring seasonal fruit. Three varieties are on offer: a luscious strawberry tart, another combining refreshing Kawachi bankan citrus and Kiyomi orange, and the last featuring peach pine, a variety of pineapple grown on Ishigaki in Okinawa. If you prefer a more Japanese-style offering, try matcha with wagashi confectionery, or anmitsu, a dessert of beans, agar jelly cubes and red bean paste topped with brown sugar syrup.

A house-made tart accompanies carefully prepared pour-over coffee. (© Kawaguchi Yōko)

The house and its garden offer a pleasant respite from the daily hustle and bustle. On a sunny afternoon, the garden displays fresh greenery, with a few blossoms remaining on the drooping cherries and emerging azaleas adding a colorful accent. Green plum branches, red and purplish maples, and hydrangeas awaiting the rainy season offer a variety of colors throughout the year.

Inside, shōji screens cast delicate shadows on the tokonoma alcove. If you have the opportunity to visit a traditional home, take a moment to admire the interior fittings exhibiting fine handiwork: fusuma sliding doors, transoms, and yukimi shōji sliding paper-covered screens whose bottom portion can be raised to reveal the outdoors through a window. Just inside the entrance is a round window decorated with the auspicious motif of a fishing net being cast. All of these examples of fine work hint at the family’s affluent lifestyle and speak of refined manual skills.

Carved motifs in the room’s fittings add character. (© Kawaguchi Yōko)

The latticework on this round window features a fishing net motif. (© Kawaguchi Yōko)

A western-style room is in the northwest corner of the house. This was once used for meeting customers of the owner’s business, but now serves as a waiting area when the café’s seats are full. The old-fashioned windows, doors, and chandelier create a nostalgic atmosphere and the splendid coffered ceiling is made of solid natural wood.

The coffered ceiling in the western-style room. (© Kawaguchi Yōko)

A Family Home Transformed

The house was built in 1939 by Hirata Genshichi, who operated a workshop that processed automobile parts. At the time, the property covered over 6,500 square meters, on which Genshichi’s workshop and the family home stood. In all, 10 people lived in the house—the family, along with a houseboy and a maid.

The café is now operated by Genshichi’s grandson Hirata Shigeru, who remarks that in his grandfather’s day, Mount Fuji was visible from the house. That vista would be hard to imagine today. At the time, the workshop was the only building in the area, and there were no eateries or drinking establishments where employees could unwind after work. So from time to time, the workers were treated to food and drink in the zashiki at the house. That is why such a large room was needed.

Hirata says to me that “the door through which you entered was previously the house’s back door. It didn’t face the street, but now the street runs in front due to area redevelopment.”

As the neighborhood grew and residents adopted new lifestyles, the house and garden also changed. Still, something of their original atmosphere was preserved. A room next to the engawa was formerly used for storage and the room next to it was for a servant. Some decades ago, alterations to the rooms’ storm shutters turned the space into an attractive western-style room with outdoor views. Sitting on the sofa, I have a perfect view of the garden’s fresh greenery and the drooping boughs of sakura cherry trees.

I asked Hirata why he had opened a café in this heirloom property. “My mother had been living with me, and after she passed away, I felt that it was a pity that only the family could enjoy the wonderful view here. Taking care of the house and garden is a lot of work, but I decided to open a café because I wanted to share the site with people outside the family.”

Hirata pondered the lives of the three generations that had lived in the house as he prepared to open the café. During refurbishing, he disposed of all the furnishings, including a sunken kotatsu and numerous hibachi, which were once the only sources of heat in winter. Old houses like this one can get bitterly cold.

Western-style furnishings blend well with this tatami-floored room. (© Kawaguchi Yōko)

Summer meant mosquitoes, so mosquito nets were essential for sleeping undisturbed. In the house, the lintels in the rooms still have the hooks used for suspending the nets. On summer evenings when Hirata was growing up, children chattered away before falling asleep amid the lingering scents of fireworks enjoyed from the engawa and of the mosquito coils lit to keep the insects away.

The house has been lovingly cared for for 86 years now. A large stone lantern stands in one corner of the garden, which also featured a waterfall and a pond at one time. Under an artificial hill, there was once an air raid shelter too. Hirata remarks that he has his hands full keeping the garden’s mossy ground free of weeds.

This Shōwa era (1926–1989) house and its beautiful engawa reflect the love and care lavished on it throughout the years. To me, the café itself seems like an engawa marking the boundary between the private realm and the surrounding urban area. That was my feeling as I sat quietly contemplating the lush garden.

Engawa Café, Shōwa no Ie

• Address: 2-5-10 Nishi Hokima, Adachi-ku, Tokyo
• Hours: 11:30–18:00 (last order 17:30)
• Closed: Sat/Sun/Mon and occasionally at other times.
• Access: 14 minutes on foot from Takenotsuka station on the Tōbu Skytree Line.
• Website: http://shouwanoie.jp/ (Japanese only)

(Originally published in Japanese on April 29, 2025. Banner photo © Kawaguchi Yōko)