Sweet n’ steamy: Tokyo’s best yakiimo

This place talks like a lab because it kind of is one, kennkyujo meaning research insitute. They’re built around a custom setup, including a Japan-first, fully automated ‘nano-mist and rapid-cooling’ yakiimo kiln, which is exactly the kind of ridiculous niche engineering that makes the results feel unfair.

The menu leans into honey-sweet roasted imo, plus versions meant to be eaten chilled (the texture goes dense and candy-like), with rotating varieties depending on supply. Mitsuimo may also be the most obsessed with potatoes on this list. The owner is a real lover of what he does: they work with top-tier, award-winning farms, he judges contests, and he’s won plenty too. You can feel it: this spot lives and breathes yakiimo.

You’ll hear Mitakaya before you see them most of the time, with the nostalgic yakiimo call reverberating off the little truck as they do their rounds around west and central Tokyo. They deal in carefully selected sweet potatoes, with a lot of pride in the craft. This one is also great for the experience: retro, cute and very Tokyo. You can see where in Tokyo they'll be parked daily on their Twitter page. 

Ginza location, street-snack soul. The signature is right there in the name: tsubo-yaki, sweet potatoes roasted in specially made pots with charcoal, slow and steady. The way this team approaches potatoes is almost orchestral, and the visuals match the flavour.

They also push a take-home lane, including a chilled yakiimo option, and the shop leans hard into the idea that pot-roasting concentrates sweetness without needing anything added.

Under a highway in Shinbashi is not where you expect a yakiimo specialist, which is the point. Imosen offers multiple varieties like Beniharuka and Silk Sweet – softer and lighter, more melt than jam –  plus sweets made from their house-roasted potato paste.

This is one of the few spots that offers a coveted and creamy purple yakiimo from time to time, but you’ll have to stalk their socials to figure out what’s on offer that day. If you find yourself out late downtown and need something delicious and portable to warm up with, you’re in luck: Imosen keeps late hours.

This is the design-y but serious pick. They roast in Tokoname-yaki pots with binchotan charcoal, which tends to give you a cleaner, deeper roast and a slightly smoky finish without overpowering the sweetness. Texture-wise they lean ‘balanced’ rather than ‘extreme goo’: a smooth, dense centre that still pulls a little fluffy at the edges, with a caramelised, almost roasted-nut aroma from the charcoal. If you’re the type who likes yakiimo that tastes richer and more roasted than candy-sweet, this one makes sense

Hibi Yakiimo took Champion at the National Yakiimo Grand Prix 2025 with its Beniharuka variety – sticky and glossy when roasted, crazy honey-like sweetness and creamy through the centre.

Their whole thing is treating sweet potatoes like produce with personalities: origin, variety and aging level shift what they serve, and they tweak their roasting depending on the season. That’s the kind of cred that turns a humble snack into a pilgrimage.

A proper Tokyo winter classic: the roaming truck you find near stations when the air hurts your face. Oonoya is a stone-roasted yakiimo vendor, and they’re serious about variety. Their line-ups have included Beniharuka (sticky, honey-sweet, glossy), Silk Sweet (silky, smooth, lighter sweetness), Amahazuki (extra-high sugar, very sticky, dessert-level richness) and Kuri Kaguya (chestnut-like flavour, fluffy and a little drier rather than gooey). They roam mainly around southwest Tokyo and along certain rail lines, so follow their schedule on social media to make sure you catch them.

If you like your yakiimo with competitive-athlete energy, this is the one. Puku Puku have stacked awards across multiple years, including National Yakiimo Grand Prix prizes; in 2025 they finished as the nationwide runner-up.

They have multiple bases: a winter-limited HQ in Nishi-Oi and a year-round shop in Shimo-Akatsuka (Nerima), with clear hours and access notes on their site.

100 Yen Lawson is old reliable. It’s the cheapest on this list, but that doesn’t make it any less delicious. Cheap yakiimo is often dry and crumbly, and plenty of people don’t even bother eating the skin, but Lawson can surprise you. They sometimes carry an Okinawan variety that’s smooth and pudding-like enough to go head-to-head with spots that take their spuds very seriously.

It deserves a mention because it’s shockingly solid for convenience-store life. Lawson Store 100 runs seasonal yakiimo and bakes them in a dedicated in-store machine near the register to keep them hot and ready. They rotate varieties depending on season, and the yakiimo is a long-running staple. Just don’t treat it like a guaranteed item: stock and timing vary from store to store.