The best sushi I had was at a crowded restaurant next to Tokyo's massive Tsukiji fish market a few years ago.
When we entered after waiting in a kilometer-long queue, the Japanese man standing at the entrance greeted us with a ninety-degree bow and a samurai cry of banzai, which was immediately repeated by five sushi men bustling around behind the bar, where we sat down to admire the Japanese dexterity of the hand and knife technique up close.
Behind the bartenders sat a giant aquarium, half filled with fish-like creatures and the other half with oddities I would never have guessed inhabited our planet.
All you had to do was use your index finger to make the floating object you were craving appear on your plate a few minutes later, having previously had its breath and all inedible parts removed.
The bartender committed the act of murder at a special stand, separated from the curious eyes of tourists by a semi-transparent glass.
I ordered a sushi set, the house's specialty, and watched with what virtuosity my sushi barman prepared it. On the plate I found only nigiri, because unlike Warsaw sushi bars, maki are not usually served in Japan. Despite its modest form, my set presented an extraordinary content: grilled eel, Japanese omelette, squid, horse mackerel, translucent shrimp, salmon roe, yellowtail, bluefin tuna, fatty tuna, radish, sardine, octopus, scallop, sea urchin and chives.
By the way, I received a short instruction for a foreigner: wash your hands before eating, eat sushi with your fingers or chopsticks, dip it in soy sauce and place it on the side of the fish on your tongue, not the side of the rice, if you eat with chopsticks, do not cross them, do not wave them, and do not point them at others, do not mix wasabi with soy sauce, if you like it spicy, ask the sushi man to put more wasabi under the fish.
Enough theory. The recipe for my Europeanized sushi is as follows.
I rinse and drain the sushi rice. I mix it with cold water in a one-to-one ratio. I bring it to a boil, stirring constantly, then leave it covered on a low heat for ten minutes. When it cools down a bit, I add the rice vinegar, stir and wait until it cools down completely.
I fry a Japanese omelette made of a few beaten eggs with soy sauce in a pan with a small amount of oil using the "wrap, move, pour" method. I fry the shrimp briefly in oil, previously dipping them in a thin batter of flour and water. I cut the cucumber, discarding the middle part, the mango, avocado and the pickled turnip. I fry some of the salmon and tuna for 30 seconds on each side in a very hot pan without fat. I cut the remaining fish into small pieces for nigiri and longer pieces for maki. I also prepare smooth cheese, preferably California, and surimi.
I arrange all the ingredients on a board and spin them around, giving free rein to my creativity.
It takes a good few hours, but the end result for your senses and health is unbeatable every time.
