One late December night, I was in New York at Rolf’s sharing a beer and schnitzel with Lee Anne under the hypnotic glow of the festive holiday lights.

Beer

Schnitzel

Hypnotic lights

Between bites, I mentioned that Kelly and I were going to Japan, and immediately Lee Anne’s face lit up. She whipped out her phone and excitedly flipped through a slide show of photos. “You must meet Shinji.  He will tell you where to go,” she asserted.

A few weeks later, Kelly and I arrived in Japan, each towing a small rolly suitcase and a backpack, ready to soak in as much of Tokyo as we could in three short days.  When we arrived at our hostel, I opened an email from Shinji, which read:

“At fish market, you gotta eat at Sushi Dai (寿司大), not Daiwa Sushi (大和寿司) at inner market. They both have long lines in front, but the quality and service are different. I took Lee Anne to Sushi Dai. Sushi Dai is the best. They open 5 am. Go before and get ready. Order “omakase” and it will blow your mind.”

Early the next morning, Kelly and I awoke to the industrial warning noise of my iPhone alarm.  The sun was not out yet, leaving us to poke around in the dark for our things. A sleepy German woman two beds away looked at me incredulously and asked why we were up so early. “We’re going to the fish market,” I whispered to her. She thought we were crazy. We slipped out before waking any of the others in the room.  At 5 am, the first subway train of the morning pulled into the station and just like that, we were on our way to get some sushi for breakfast.

The sheer size of Tsukiji is mind blowing. After all, it is the largest fish market in the world.  I don’t know whether it was our lost facial expressions or the fact that we circled the same block of stalls several times, but one of the shopkeepers took the clue and came out to guide us to our breakfast.  Not only was he kind enough to point us in the right direction, but he also gave us a map of the market, drew out directions, and even wrote out the characters for “Sushi Dai” and “Daiwa Sushi” to make sure we went to the correct restaurant.  What an awesome guy.

Hand drawn directions from the friendly shopkeeper

Sushi Dai

It was 6 am when we finally reached Sushi Dai, which comprised of a stall with a narrow bar and just enough seating room to fit 20 skinny people. A woman slid open the door and asked us for our names and offered us a few options to choose from — a 10 piece omakase for 3900 yen (~40 USD) and an 8 piece omakase for 2500 yen (~27 USD).  We opted to share one of each.

The sky changed from navy to pale blue as we waited outside. We stared enviously through the windows, gawking at the people inside as they sat shoulder to shoulder, enjoying their food and their morning beer. Half an hour in, we were officially hungry, and the pictures of food in the far less crowded adjacent storefront started to look very appetizing. Hot noodles and fried prawns on a cold, crisp morning… is that something anyone should turn down? But eventually the door slid open, customers filed out to some loud and friendly farewells, and the woman signaled for Kelly and me. We eagerly squeezed through the door, and the smells of hot miso soup and tea welcomed us. A wave of warmth overcame our bodies. At last!! We found our spot at the corner of the counter, anxiously sat down, and prepared for our minds to be blown.

Our view from our the corner of the bar.

Hot towels and cups of Matcha Green tea were quickly served. The warm and rich tea momentarily placated our hungry stomachs while we waited for food to arrive.

After 40 minutes of waiting outside, Kelly and I welcomed the hot miso soup with great enthusiasm.

Lo and behold, after stirring the soup with my chopsticks, I struck gold.  Well, not gold, but whole chunks of fish that were hidden underneath the surface of the cloudy soup.  The fish was clearly stewed in the soup for a while, as the dark and flavorful meat flaked off with the touch of a chopstick. Each bite was filled with the deep, satisfying flavor of miso. It was unlike any miso soup we ever had, with a complexity of flavors that packed a sucker punch of umami.

Our mind-blowing sushi experience commenced, and first up was a fatty, succulent piece of Otoro (fatty Bluefin tuna).  I had been anticipating this moment since my first glance at Lee Anne’s phone background.  We were instructed by the sushi chef to eat it straight and simple; soy sauce would overpower the delicate flavor of the fish.  A glistening sheen of marbled pink, the tuna was as delicious as it looked.  It melted in my mouth and stunned my taste buds with a subtle yet indulgently rich flavor.

Kasugo (young sea bream): This piece of sushi had a light flavor but had an interesting dense and meaty texture.

Hamachi (yellowtail): This piece affirmed my love for yellowtail — perfectly delicate, with a hint of sweetness that complemented its texture.

Amaebi (mini sweet shrimp): This may look like a textured piece of fish, but in actuality it is comprised of multiple little sweet shrimp packed together and topped with a small dollop of roe — it was as sweet and juicy as it looks.

Indisputably, all the fish served at Sushi Dai were of amazing quality because the fish is delivered straight from the fishing boats to the market every day.  But I was surprised to find that even items like the Tamago (sweet egg omelette) delivered the same light touch and complex taste as the fresh pieces of sushi.  Unlike the cold, dinky, sponge-like rectangle of shriveled egg I was used to seeing, this tamago was hunkering in size but fluffy and light in texture and still piping hot from the steamer.  Mixed with some unidentifiable herbs (If I were to guess, it was probably shredded shiso leaves), the delicately sweet egg was incredibly satisfying and quickly devoured.  I still have dreams about eating this.

Kinmedai (splended alfonsino or “golden sea bream”): What a strikingly beautiful piece of fish.  After poking around some sushi forums, I discovered that when it comes to kinmedai, the skin is usually quite tough and therefore typically torched, but I think ours was served raw.  I didn’t recall it being particularly tough, but I do remember the sweet and subtle flavor.

Uni (sea urchin): These glistening deep orange gems almost liquefied when they touched my tongue. Each morsel unleashed a refreshing taste, like a shot of ocean. The texture of the uni was smooth and silky and well complemented with a wrapper of crisp nori and a sturdy base of sushi rice. The omakase meal allowed for one additional piece of sushi of choice, and I didn’t have to think hard about asking for another perfect bite of uni.

Kohada (Japanese gizzard shad): This piece of sushi always reminds me of a painfully deep paper cut. But besides its unpleasantly painful looking appearance, it had wonderfully salty and meaty taste.

Tako (octopus): Whenever I order octopus, I usually prepare to tackle on an unmistakably dense and chewy texture, as if the octopus were giving one last fight.  This octopus, however, was neither chewy nor dense, but best characterized as having a sweet and bouncy bite which was very agreeable.

I’m not going to lie, I don’t remember how this tasted, or what it was.  By this point, I was in a euphoric state of delirium.

The mystery fish was served with four pieces of Tuna Maki (tuna and cucumber rolls)

Aji (Horse mackerel): Not as deep in flavor as the Kohada, the Aji was topped with a pile of scallions, which brought out a greater depth of flavor.

Mirugai (geoduck): “It’s alive!” laughed our sushi chef when he placed it on the wooden bar.  Moments after he cut slits into the Mirugai, it began to slowly curl up.

Sawara (Spanish mackerel)

Anago (salt water eel): Drizzled with sweet eel sauce, this anago was picked of its bones, leaving only an airy yet fish-like texture and a lightly sweet taste. Anago doesn’t typicaly look bright yellow and orange, that’s just my poor photography skills at 7am.

The sushi chefs, happy and smiling even at ungodly hours of the morning.

Lee Anne was right, the sushi at Sushi Dai was life changing.  It’s some of the best, if not THE best, I’ve ever had, and these descriptions don’t come close to the real experience. As we paid the bill, Kelly and I caught sight of the snaking line of people waiting outside, almost three times longer than what we were greeted with earlier that morning. We knew it was time to say our final “arrigato”s, so after a few more sips of warm matcha, we gave up our much coveted spots along the counter of Sushi Dai.