🍣 ¥73 Billion in Sales, ¥1.6 Billion in the Trash — Japan's Ehomaki Dilemma On the eve of spring, millions of Japanese face a lucky direction, silently devouring an entire sushi roll to invite good fortune. This quirky Setsubun tradition has grown into a ¥73 billion market. But behind the festive frenzy, an estimated ¥1.65 billion worth of ehomaki rolls are thrown away every year — uneaten. What happened to Japan's famous "mottainai" spirit?
What Is Ehomaki? — A "New Tradition" Born in Osaka, Spread by Convenience Stores
Ehomaki is a thick sushi roll eaten on Setsubun (the day before the start of spring, typically February 3) while facing that year's lucky direction — the compass point where Toshitokujin, the deity of good fortune, is believed to reside. Tradition calls for eating the roll silently, without cutting it, while making a wish. The seven fillings represent the Seven Lucky Gods of Japanese mythology, symbolizing the act of "rolling in good fortune."
The custom is believed to have originated in Osaka's entertainment districts during the early 1900s, where geisha would eat nori-wrapped sushi rolls facing the lucky direction as a ritual for prosperity. After fading during wartime, the tradition was revived in the 1960s and 70s by Osaka's sushi and seaweed trade associations as a marketing campaign.
The national breakthrough came in 1989, when a Seven-Eleven store in Hiroshima began selling the rolls under the name "ehomaki" — a brand-new term coined specifically for the product. By 1998, the chain had rolled out ehomaki nationwide. By the 2000s, every major convenience store and supermarket had joined the frenzy. A 2011 survey found that more Japanese people ate ehomaki on Setsubun than participated in the traditional bean-throwing ceremony (mamemaki), effectively crowning ehomaki as the holiday's main event.
In other words, unlike bean-throwing — which traces back to the Nara period (8th century) — ehomaki is a relatively modern commercial invention. Understanding this origin is essential to grasping why the food waste problem exists at all.
Behind the ¥73 Billion Market — Why ¥1.6 Billion Ends Up in the Trash
According to estimates by Katsuhiro Miyamoto, Professor Emeritus at Kansai University, the total economic ripple effect of ehomaki in 2026 reached approximately ¥72.88 billion — a staggering figure for a single food item consumed in essentially one day. Direct sales were estimated at around ¥32.98 billion, a significant increase from ¥27.48 billion in 2025.
Yet the same analysis estimated that roughly ¥1.649 billion worth of ehomaki would be discarded as unsold waste, based on a disposal rate of over 5%.
The structural causes run deep. Ehomaki is the ultimate one-day product — it has virtually zero commercial value after Setsubun. Yet retailers fear that running out of stock on the big day will brand them as a "poorly stocked shop," driving customers to competitors. The unspoken logic: better to overstock and discard than to lose a single sale.
There's also a strategic dimension. Supermarkets view ehomaki as a traffic driver — customers who come in for sushi rolls also buy meat, fish, vegetables, drinks, and side dishes. The profit from these ancillary purchases can outweigh ehomaki losses, creating a rational business incentive to overproduce.
Meanwhile, ehomaki prices keep climbing. Research from Teikoku Databank shows the average price rose 11.7% year-over-year, driven by ingredient inflation — rice prices jumped over 30%, while nori seaweed suffered record-poor harvests. Despite rising costs, the premium trend accelerated, with some department stores offering rolls stuffed with gold leaf, wagyu beef, abalone, and caviar at prices exceeding ¥10,000 (approximately $65) per roll.
Does Pre-Ordering Solve Anything? — The Limits of Reservation Systems
Since 2019, Japan's Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries (MAFF) has urged retailers to adopt reservation-based sales to match supply with demand. The Consumer Affairs Agency runs annual campaigns encouraging consumers to pre-order. In 2026, 71 retailers signed up for MAFF's waste reduction initiative.
But field investigations reveal cracks in the system. A food waste expert's survey of 183 stores across 10 prefectures in 2025 found that even at convenience stores with reservation systems, dozens of premium ehomaki were left unsold on Setsubun night. At one chain, 64 premium wagyu rolls (¥896 each) and 44 seafood rolls (¥1,078 each) sat untouched at a single location.
Why do pre-orders fail to prevent waste? According to franchise owners, convenience store headquarters require order quantities to be finalized in December — well before the reservation deadline. One major chain reportedly set its 2026 ehomaki sales target at 117% of the previous year. Critics argue this turns the reservation system into "food waste reduction theater."
Yet success stories exist. The supermarket chain Hallows achieved a disposal rate of just 0.00004% in 2023, selling 310,000 rolls worth ¥170 million across 101 stores while barely wasting anything. Their approach — precise demand forecasting combined with disciplined operations — proves that high sales volume and minimal waste can coexist.
The Hidden Costs — Environmental and Social Impact
The damage extends beyond economics. Estimates based on 2023 data suggest the CO2 emissions from discarded ehomaki equal 135 people's annual carbon footprint. The water wasted in producing those uneaten rolls would fill 570 standard 25-meter swimming pools.
The ingredients in ehomaki — nori, eggs, shrimp, fish — are precisely the items facing resource depletion and price spikes globally. Discarding them is not merely wasteful; it compounds existing supply chain pressures.
Furthermore, the cost of disposing unsold ehomaki (as part of general municipal waste) is borne partly by taxpayers. Japan spends over ¥2 trillion annually on waste processing, funds that could otherwise go to education, healthcare, or social services.
Japan's total annual food waste stands at 4.72 million tons, equivalent to roughly one rice ball per person per day. The government has pledged to halve food loss by 2030 (compared to 2000 levels), but time is running short.
What Consumers Can Do — Changing How We Buy
Food waste is not solely the industry's problem. Consumer behavior plays an equally important role.
Pre-ordering is the single most effective action. Reserving only the number of rolls your family will actually eat — and picking them up as promised — sends a clear market signal. Choosing half-size or bite-sized options reduces household waste as well.
Another option is to support stores that make genuine efforts to minimize waste — specialty sushi shops, reservation-only retailers, and local businesses that produce made-to-order rolls.
Making ehomaki at home is perhaps the most sustainable choice of all. You choose the fillings, control the portions, and produce zero commercial waste.
Most importantly, accepting that a store might be sold out on Setsubun night — and being okay with that — removes the pressure on retailers to overstock. The willingness to tolerate occasional inconvenience may be the most powerful anti-waste tool consumers have.
Between Culture and Sustainability
Ehomaki embodies something beautiful about Japanese culture: the desire to celebrate the turning of seasons through food, the quiet hope embedded in a wish made while facing the lucky direction, the warmth of a family sharing a ritual together.
But when this cultural practice became entangled with convenience store sales targets and supermarket marketing wars, the rolls meant to "wrap in fortune" began piling up in dumpsters. The gap between ¥73 billion in economic impact and ¥1.6 billion in waste reflects a structural tension not unique to Japan — it's the same tension between tradition, commerce, and sustainability that plays out in seasonal food events worldwide.
Updating traditions for a sustainable era doesn't mean abandoning them. It means finding smarter ways to celebrate.
Does your country face food waste problems tied to seasonal traditions? Christmas turkeys and cakes, Lunar New Year feasts, Thanksgiving dinners, Diwali sweets — how does your culture balance festive abundance with responsible consumption? We'd love to hear your perspective.
References
- https://news.yahoo.co.jp/pickup/6568261
- https://yorozoonews.jp/article/16326275
- https://news.yahoo.co.jp/expert/articles/a79246896fc977b9bd58352a2334bdc5e65afac2
- https://www.greenpeace.org/japan/news/story_61324/
- https://coki.jp/article/column/67792/
- https://www.maff.go.jp/j/shokusan/recycle/syoku_loss/kisetsusyokuhin.html
- https://www.no-foodloss.caa.go.jp/topic_feb2026.html
Reactions in Japan
Every year around this time, ehomaki waste makes the news, and nothing ever changes. ¥1.6 billion is an unimaginable amount. Companies won't stop because the system is structurally profitable for them.
Our family makes ehomaki at home every year. The kids pick their favorite fillings and roll them together — it's our Setsubun tradition. No need to buy from a convenience store, zero waste.
I work part-time at a convenience store, and seeing the shelves still packed with ehomaki after 10 PM is depressing. HQ's order quantities are just wrong. Even the store manager was frustrated.
The reservation system sounds good in theory, but what's the point if quantities are decided in December? The Consumer Affairs Agency and MAFF just say 'please pre-order' without any enforceable regulations.
Honestly, ehomaki is a Kansai thing, right? As someone from Tokyo, I never grew up with it. The irony of a convenience store-invented tradition causing massive food waste is just too much.
Hallows achieving a 0.00004% disposal rate is incredible. It proves it's possible. Why don't other supermarkets and convenience stores follow suit? It comes down to management decisions.
People love bashing ehomaki waste, but Christmas cakes and eel on Doyo no Ushi no Hi have the exact same structure. We should discuss this as a seasonal product issue overall.
Scored half-price ehomaki right before the supermarket closed. Same taste at this price — I aim for this deal every year. Like to think I'm contributing to waste reduction too lol
I wondered who buys ¥10,000 ehomaki, but apparently they sell out at department stores. Premium lines probably generate less waste since they're reservation-based. The real problem is the ¥500-1,000 range at convenience stores.
Nori shortages, rice price surges, egg inflation — and we're throwing away massive amounts of these precious ingredients? It's infuriating, especially when people are calling it the 'Reiwa rice crisis.'
I work at a food recycling facility. The day after Setsubun, we're overwhelmed with ehomaki disposal every year. At least they become pig feed, but the overproduction itself is the real issue.
Apparently there's a taco ehomaki this year lol — no rice, no nori. Can you even call that ehomaki? At this point anything goes. But hey, if it reduces waste, I'm fine with it.
I'm from Osaka, and growing up, my mom always made ehomaki at home. You didn't buy them. When did this become such a commercial event?
¥1.6 billion in waste — imagine how many people that could help if redirected to Noto earthquake recovery. This isn't something we can just excuse as 'it's culture.'
Found ehomaki at half price through a food waste reduction app and grabbed it. I wish this kind of tech solution would spread more widely.
I don't eat ehomaki and never have. Setsubun is perfectly fine with just mamemaki. Not everything needs to be a nationwide participation event.
In the US, trash cans are full of turkey leftovers the day after Thanksgiving, so this isn't just a Japan problem. But the scale of '¥73 billion in one day' is staggering. At least we eat Thanksgiving leftovers for days — ehomaki having zero value the next day makes it much harder.
As a French person, we have similar overproduction with galette des rois. But in France, bakeries bake fresh and sell out daily. Isn't the Japanese model of mass pre-production at convenience stores the fundamental issue here?
During Chinese New Year, preparing excess food symbolizes abundance, so I understand the psychology of 'better too much than too little.' But ¥1.6 billion is excessive. In China too, social media criticism of food waste has grown significantly.
Christmas pudding in the UK gets wasted too, but at least it keeps. Raw sushi rolls limited to a single day? Food waste is structurally inevitable. Now I understand why the reservation system doesn't really work.
Korea has the problem of making too much 'jeon' (savory pancakes) for Lunar New Year, but since it's consumed at home, it rarely becomes a social issue. The fact that convenience stores commercializing culture leads to this outcome is a warning about consumer society.
In Italy, leftover panettone at Christmas gets discounted and consumed throughout January since it has a long shelf life. Creating a ¥73 billion market around a single-day perishable product seems like a fundamental risk design flaw.
During Diwali in India, tons of sweets are distributed, but recently 'less sweet, smaller packs' are trending. Japan's half-size ehomaki seems like the same direction. Maintaining culture while downsizing might be the most practical solution.
From a German environmental perspective, this waste volume is shocking. But Germany's bakery industry discards massively every day too, and EU-wide food waste is around 100 million tons. Singling out Japan's ehomaki isn't fair.
During Tet in Vietnam, we make lots of banh chung (sticky rice cakes), but they last and families eat everything. The Japanese 'buy and throw away' pattern is hard to comprehend from a Vietnamese perspective.
In Mexico, we bake tons of pan de muerto for Day of the Dead, but leftovers are sold the next day and consumed at community parties. Why doesn't Japan push harder to sell through with discounts?
In Sweden, the food waste app 'Karma' is widespread — you can buy near-expiry food cheaply. If Japan has similar apps, they should be promoted more. Technology can bridge tradition and sustainability.
I'm a sustainability researcher in Australia. The ehomaki problem is a textbook case study in 'seasonal product supply chain design.' The Hallows success story is a reference for retailers worldwide.
Food waste during Eid al-Fitr after Ramadan is debated too, but it's harder to critique religious observances. Ehomaki is a commercially created tradition, so it should be easier to reform — which makes the lack of change puzzling.
In Brazil, 30% of food is wasted, but it happens daily, not concentrated on specific events. Japan's ehomaki waste is visible and concentrated, which actually might make it easier to build momentum for solutions.
During Chinese New Year in Singapore, we toss 'yusheng' (raw fish salad) high in the air as tradition. Lots of it goes uneaten, but that's the 'symbol of abundance.' Balancing culture and efficiency is hard. Japan isn't uniquely irrational here.
In Nigeria, wasting food is almost taboo. The idea that ¥1.6 billion worth of sushi rolls are discarded annually is unimaginable for people in countries struggling with food scarcity. This is a 'luxury problem' of developed nations.