The word names a sugar, and loosely it also names the sweets pressed out of that sugar. It comes from a thin native cane suited to a temperate climate, called chikuto in the trade and hosokibi by the people who grow it, and it is worked in a very small area on both sides of the border between Kagawa and Tokushima — Hiketa on one side, Kamiita and Itano on the other. That is the whole of it.

The raw sugar is spread out on a tray and kneaded with a little water added, over and over, to break the crystals down. That step is called togi, which is the same word used for sharpening a blade. The kneaded sugar is then packed into hemp cloth, set into a wooden press and weighted until the molasses runs out of it.

The name is said to come from doing the togi about three times on the tray. Whether that is literally the origin or a tidy explanation arranged afterwards, three passes is roughly what it still takes to get there.

The result is nearly as fine as icing sugar and behaves quite differently in the mouth: it collapses before you have decided to chew, and the sweetness leaves without lingering anywhere. Pressed in carved wooden moulds it becomes plums, maple leaves, shells. A great deal of grinding and pressing, ending in something the size of a coin.