One of the best recommendations for seeing the film “Jiro Dreams of Sushi” came from a person with an aversion to eating fish.
“I don’t eat sushi,” he told me, “but I wanted to after seeing the movie.”
Maybe because I do eat sushi, the film had the opposite effect on me. I went in with the intention of exploring Kahala’s sushi options after the film, and in fact went through those motions, thinking that a “love the one you’re with approach” might satisfy an immediate craving. But after seeing the film, I knew that would be a mistake, and it was, so I won’t even go there.
It was like settling for fourth runner-up Mr. Wrong instead of the man of your dreams. After seeing the film, you only want Jiro’s sushi, and it’ll make true foodies rethink the way they eat sushi.
In fact, the aptly named Jiro Ono of Tokyo’s Sukiyabashi Jiro, on whom the documentary is based, has said in interviews that he doesn’t like to feed Westerners because they don’t appreciate sushi.
But that is a sentiment that is evolving, and a documentary like this one goes a long way in teaching us Sushi Appreciation 102.
Jiro’s own philosophy has evolved over time. Earlier in his career, he said he offered appetizers and other dishes — all the things he says now distract from the heart of a sushi bar. Because of that, he said, diners would fill up on hot foods and only try about five pieces of sushi.
Now he carefully orchestrates his 30,000 yen (about $360), 20-piece omakase as a symphony of flavors dancing on the palate, with three movements that start with classic sushi, move into seasonal delicacies and finish with the boldest flavors.
Left to their own devices, I think most people choose sushi based on their own predilections and budgets, and ingest fish in a random, haphazard order. Few ever risk the excitement of giving themselves over completely to the whims and expertise of the sushi chef.
In fact, customers and a food critic interviewed for the documentary said they were actually afraid to sit in front of Jiro, afraid their tastes and actions would reveal them to be unworthy of his mastery. Jiro’s second son, who opened his own sushi bar, said many of his customers say they prefer to eat at his place rather than his father’s because under his father’s gaze they feel they cannot relax.
But Jiro’s gaze is not intended to be wholly critical; rather, he’s trying to gauge the ebb and flow of a meal. He even observes the hand they use to eat. Being left-handed, he understands that he can place sushi to make it easier for other left-handed people.
I understand people who see the movie on an empty stomach may get hungry in the process. The documentary by David Gelb takes us into the tiny 10-seat Sukiyabashi Jiro located in a Tokyo subway station. The restaurant was the first of its kind, and Jiro the first sushi chef to be awarded a prestigious three-star Michelin review.
In the film, fish is smoked over an open flame in the kitchen as sheaves of nori are similarly smoked while being passed over a charcoal brazier. There is scene after scene of glistening fish being pressed onto rice, and an audible gasp arose from the full theater when a tray full of uni appeared.
In Hawaii we might think we know more about sushi than the typical Westerner who only started eating it in the 1970s when the California roll became the gateway sushi for those who had little experience eating raw fish.
Over the years, however, our craving for novelty has turned the sushi experience into being about everything but the fish. Now it’s about the dynamite, the aiolis, the unagi sauce, the cooked dishes on the side and even vegetarian sushi.
The film makes a nod to the environmental impact of the appetite for fish as well. Jiro points out that some of the fish he once served have disappeared, and that the quality of fish today is also not the same as it was in past generations.
Where once sushi was a rare luxury, today it is mass-marketed through grocery stores and conveyor-belt outlets. To complain about that mass market would be an affront to those who cannot afford top-tier sushi bars. And yet, wouldn’t it be more soul-satisfying to have three pieces of great sushi instead of 10 pieces of mediocre fare? Having done just that after the film, my answer is yes.
For his part, Jiro said to develop your palate, you must eat good food. He said he only eats the best seafood, asking a question along the lines of, “How can I please my customers if their taste is better than mine?”
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THE WEEKLY EATER: Nadine Kam’s restaurant review column will return April 11.
“Jiro Dreams of Sushi”
