The Sushi Roundtable: A Discussion with Jiro Ono, Part 1

Jiro

Photograph by Craig Mod

In late spring 2006, three master sushi chefs with very different backgrounds gathered at what is arguably the most venerated sushi restaurant in the world to discuss their craft. That restaurant, Sukiyabashi Jiro, tucked away in the backstreets of the Ginza district in Tokyo, is run by the octagenarian Jiro Ono, named a “modern master” by Japan’s Ministry of Health, Labor and Welfare in 2005 for his contributions to Japanese cuisine.

Years ago, Ono trained Shiro Kashiba, the proprietor of Shiro’s in Seattle’s Belltown neighborhood. Kashiba took what he learned from Ono and traveled to the United States, where he set up Seattle’s first full-service sushi bar in 1967. Shiro’s is still one of the city’s most respected and popular sushi restaurants.

Taichi Kitamura, our third master, learned his craft at the foot of Mr. Kashiba, cutting and cleaning fish in Shiro’s for years before opening his own shop, Chiso, in Seattle’s Fremont neighborhood. Kashiba and Kitamura decided to take a trip to Tokyo — a sort of sushi pilgrimage — to talk to Mr. Ono about what it takes to make great sushi. They were joined by prominent Japanese food critic and author Masuhiro Yamamoto and Ono’s son, Yoshikazu Ono, also a sushi chef.

Kitamura sets the scene for us:

“It was a muggy humid day and the skies unleashed torrents of rain as we arrived at a subway near Jiro’s restaurant. Shiro and I each bought umbrellas to use on the walk to the restaurant. I started getting nervous as we got close. I looked at Shiro, and he seemed a little nervous too.

“Jiro’s restaurant is in the basement of an old building. We walked downstairs and saw a man coming out of the bathroom. “Jiro-san!” Shiro yelled. Jiro hesitated and then yelled back “Kashiba!”

It turns out we were an hour early, so after a short greeting, we decided to roam around Ginza and return later for lunch. Shiro showed me his old haunts. I remember seeing a group of women in kimonos walking carefully around a large puddle, and a cook zipping through the crowds on his bicycle. At one point, we stopped in one of Shiro’s favorite beer gardens, done in a German style. I had one small glass of beer while Shiro drank down two mediums. Then we headed back to Jiro’s for lunch.”

When we returned, Jiro and his son made us a very memorable lunch. Yoshikazu would slice the fish and Jiro would make the nigiri just seconds later. He told us that we should eat the pieces of sushi within 10 seconds of being served to get the maximum flavor. A new piece would be plunked down in front of us a minute or 90 seconds later. It was quite a rapid pace, and I noticed Shiro was having trouble keeping up. ”

Jiro started us off with karei (flounder), followed in rapid succession by sumi ika (squid), inada (baby yellowtail), maguro, chutoro, toro, kohada (marinated shad), awabi abalone, katsuo (seared bonito) and sayori (saury fish). It was about this time that I noticed Shiro was sweating.”

Everything was good, but the squid was exquisite. Next he served kuruma ebi (boiled prawn), aji (spanish mackeral), iwashi (sardine), kobashira (yellow clam scallop), akagai (red clam) and a particularly tasty cut of anago (braised sea eel). The next piece was the one Jiro was most proud of: uni (sea urchin). To be frank, I think Shiro and I serve better sea urchin in Seattle all the time. But, of course, the lunch was delicious and memorable. Jiro finished the meal with ikura, shako (sand shrimp) and tamago.”

“It was a fantastic meal, although served at a pace that some (like Shiro) might find a little rapid. After it was done, we began our discussion. I wondered what the restaurant critic, Mr.Yamamoto, had thought of the lunch.”

Yamamoto: There has to be a difference in temperature between iridescent fish, like mackerel, and anago, for example. You walk into just about any sushi bar and everything is the same temperature. I felt the difference, eating Jiro’s sushi. The rice is room temperature, but the toppings come in different temperatures. It adds another dimension to the sushi and it feels great, so comfortable in your mouth.

Sushi should be presented as three movements of a concerto. The first movement features white-fleshed toppings, tuna, gizzard shad; the second movement, seasonal items; and, the third, classic offerings, such as egg, anago, norimaki and so forth.

Kitamura: I’d like to put a question to Jiro: What makes a good sushi chef?

Jiro Ono: Determination, a strong sense of carrying out one’s duty. You have to be always experimenting, always pursuing. There’s no easy way to achieve anything. You watch and learn. That’s all there is — just hard work. Then you begin to develop as a chef.

I’ve hiked around mountains a lot. Being in the basement all the time, I yearned for the sun. Thanks to all that walking I have strong legs and hips. That’s very important. You need good posture to stand behind the counter and make sushi all day. Without strength, your back begins to round and you look pathetic.

It’s important to throw yourself into your work with the determination to excel at it. Remain true to the basics. That applies to everybody. I used to work even in my dreams. I remember dreaming that I had finally reached the pinnacle. I had achieved it! Then I woke up and realized it was just a dream. That’s how much work became a part of me.

You have to constantly innovate and use good material. If you want to make it as a professional, create one or two of your own original dishes, unless you want to remain an apprentice all of your life. I don’t make it anymore, but I used to have an original octopus recipe that I prepared.

Kitamura: What kind of octopus dish was that?

Jiro Ono: I’m not telling. (laughs) It’s in my book.

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