San Jose Tofu Company closes
SAN JOSE >> When April Yamaichi was a young girl and went shopping with her family in Japantown, she’d dart into the San Jose Tofu Company on Jackson Street to buy a brick of fresh handmade tofu for 25 cents. At one point, she was buying the tofu about every other week from then-owner Takeshi Nozaki, who eventually passed the business down to his son, Chester.
“I’d run over and get tofu from Chester’s dad,” she said. “I just remember his arm was always red from working in the tofu and mixing the soy mixture.
“The texture is unmatched, and the flavor, obviously,” added Yamaichi, a dog trainer. “That soft tofu, you can’t find that kind of tofu anywhere.”
On Saturday morning, Yamaichi, now 58, was first in line to order the beloved tofu for the last time. She arrived from Burlingame at 6 a.m., leading a crowd of more than 80 people who lined up to bid farewell to
the city landmark on its last day of business after 71 years and three generations of ownership.
Chester Nozaki said his father was so devoted to the store — which Chester’s grandfather, Yoshizo, opened in 1946 after spending World War II in an internment camp for people of Japanese ancestry — that he had to force him to retire at 70.
Chester Nozaki said the physical work of lugging 40-pound buckets of soybeans into grinders and vats has taken its toll on him and his wife, Amy. The significant investments needed to upgrade equipment and the recent sale of the building solidified the couple’s decision to finally call it quits.
For many longtime Japanese residents, it was a bitter reminder that historic Japantown’s original businesses — often born on the backs of working-class immigrant families — are slowly disappearing. The Tofo company had acted as a community center of sorts, where residents would go to pass the time and catch up with longtime friends — even to look for jobs.
Nozaki, 61, said he’s given his life to the store — he delivered tofu since he was 8 and left college to come home and help with the business. Ten years ago, the building caught fire and he had to close for months for repairs. He’s foregone vacations because leaving for more than a day created an overwhelming backlog.
On Saturday, just minutes before opening their doors for the final time, Nozaki said he was feeling “pressure” to fill the needs of the dozens of people who had lined up to have bricks of their famous soybean cakes one last time.
“To me it’s just like any other business day,” he said. “But I guess for people looking at us, it’s like their last chance. I kind of feel like a rock star, but I’m not.”
Like most people who ease into retirement, Chester Nozaki said he hopes to fill his time with vacations, tending to bills, getting in shape and playing a little golf. But if the couple’s savings don’t last, Nozaki said, he’ll have to look for another job.
As of Saturday, he still hadn’t mustered up the courage to tell his father that they were closing the business. The 85-year-old Takeshi Nozaki had taken over the business from his father when he was 17.
Chester Nozaki said his father was so devoted to the store — which Chester’s grandfather opened in 1946 after spending World War II in an internment camp for people of Japanese ancestry — that he had to force him to retire at 70.
“Even to this day I don’t think I will tell him,” he said. “If my dad asks me a question about it, I will answer him truthfully. But I’d rather not say anything. I just don’t want to live a guilty retirement life after this.”
Braving the cold with puffy jackets, beanies and gloves — and with empty containers and bags for tofu at the ready — customers on Saturday morning formed a line that snaked around the block.
Carole Rast, a longtime family friend who grew up with Chester and Amy Nozaki, passed a large poster board around to each customer as they waited so that they could write the couple a goodbye message. On the poster was the same caricature of a Japanese man holding a brick of tofu that’s painted on the building at the entrance to the business. Rast designed the caricature.
“I think the tofu here was everybody’s first food,” said Rast, 58, whose family owns Roy’s Station Coffee & Teas a few doors down. “They’re such a part of the community, it kind of feels like a death in the family.”
Joanne Petersen, 67, a procurement manager from Palo Alto, was a customer for several decades.
“I wanted to come down one last time because this is it. This is all there is,” she said. “I’m really sad, but I understand why they’r’e closing. I’m just sorry to see them go because there just isn’t anything like it around here.”