GENERAL VOCABULARY

[The last five are clearly tough-guy slang, and can get you into trouble just about any place in Japan, and not a few in the US.]

Two (very) corny puns at a sushi bar are:

Ikura, which means "how much?", is often used to ask for the bill in some restaurants; but in a sushi bar it will also order you some salmon roe. This can be followed by (or retorted with) "hamachi?", which becomes a pun on the common Japanese rendering of the English "how much?"

HOW FRESH IS IT?

With all the unusual flavors in a sushi bar, it's difficult for the novice to know whether a particular dish is really as good as it could be. This is particularly true of raw fish, which can change its flavor dramatically (and usually for the worse) after a few days on the road, or in the refrigerator (or freezer).

In general, as the flesh ages it becomes tougher and darker. Most raw white fish, as well as squid and shrimp, will have a translucent quality when very fresh; some varieties more so than others. Red fish like maguro, can not only become darker, but shinier with age. In restaurants in Japan, raw fish is sometimes served resting on the carcass of the fish. Practically any fish has very clear eyes when fresh (or alive), and they quickly become milky and opaque after that (even while the flesh is still quite good to eat). One look in the fish's eye tells you of its freshness.

Like fresh sweet corn from the field, there is nothing like the flavor of raw cuttlefish or sea urchins eaten right out of the sea. Even by the time they get to a nearby restaurant, they have lost some of their "sweetness" and delicacy. Within a couple of days, both have become poor sushi; the cuttlefish (squid) tough and white, the uni, bitter and dark.

In addition, some fish are noticeably different in their different "seasons". And naturally, fish that comes from your local area should be the freshest. Because the Japan Sea uni beds have been over-harvested, the Japanese get much of their uni from Oregon, Washington, and British Columbia, where it is much better than before the long journey. However, just because a fish is found locally, does not mean that it is good for eating raw.

Only certain types of fish, at a certain age, found in certain waters at certain times of year, make the best sushi or sashimi; and while some is merely a bit better than others, you cannot make maguro out of just any old tuna fish. Tuna used for ahi steak in another restaurant, for example, is usually considered #2 common tuna at best, and would not be used for raw maguro in a sushi bar, where only the best blue-fin tuna is used. (A good blue-fin goes for six to ten thousand dollars at the Tsukiji fish market in Tokyo!) Only the "filet mignon" of each fish variety are suitable for serving raw, and even then, they must be served fresh to be good. The texture, as well as the flavor, are adversely affected by time; and a fine, delicate texture is certainly one of the subtle attributes of good sushi.

It is up to the sushi chef to find the freshest fish, keep it as fresh as possible, and toss it out (or cook it up at home) when it gets old. For this reason, the sushi chef does not usually shop at your local fish market, no matter how good it is. Nowadays, there are several fish companies on the west coast who supply fish specifically of a quality for Japanese restaurants. This fish comes from all over the world, although obviously fish from really far away will be more expensive - and older - by the time it arrives. The good chef gets to know the buyers and orders the best he can find from each one. He may also have a private network for finding some specialties when they come into season.  (Our favorite chef used to go up into the mountains himself in Spring to pick wild fern sprouts, and in Fall for Matsutake mushrooms!)  That's one reason sushi is expensive; a lot of time and expense goes into bringing this kind of fresh, high quality fish to your neighborhood. The other reason is the art of the sushi chef.

Now for you sushi afficianados, check out this very authoritative page with detailed discussions on fish quality, fish types, recipes and more from TheSushiBar.com

II.  CUSTOMS AND ETIQUETTE

The following describes typical social behavior and etiquette at sushi shops and other eating and drinking establishments in Japan. Naturally, customers in the U.S. are not expected to know, let alone observe all the niceties, and you are in no danger of being expelled for breaches of Japanese etiquette. But it won't hurt you to be exposed to them all the same. You may even find some of these customs interesting, if not charming, and cultivating one or two of them will likely endear you to a genuine Japanese sushi chef.

On Entering:

Here's what happens when you enter a sushi bar in Japan:

As soon as you duck in under the shop-curtain, the first member of the staff who sees you shouts a welcoming: "IrasSHAI-maSE!", which is then echoed by all the other workers in the restaurant. This will happen in virtually any kind of restaurant in Japan.  In Kyoto, substitute "OOki-ni" and/or "OI-de-Asu".  You are definitely welcomed into the establishment -- you have arrived.

You generally pick your own seats at the sushi bar. There usually aren't many stools, and reservations here are unheard of, so arrive early. You are immediately met by a waitress who gives you a hot face cloth (oshiBOri, image, right) and asks what you want to drink: "O-nomi-mono wa?..."  (First things, first!)  All you have to say is "biiru", "o-sake", or "o-cha" (beer, sake, or tea - the usual drinks).  The free nibbles arrive at very nearly the same instant. As mentioned elsewhere, most restaurants in Japan serve just one brand of beer, and serve it in the large bottle. Sake is almost always served hot in one size, and you'll get the "house" brand by default.  What could be easier?

Japanese men will use the face cloth to cleanse off all the soot and grime of the day, from their faces and backs of their necks, as well as their hands. Japanese women usually don't want to ruin their make-up.  Roll the face cloth up and leave it on the counter to wipe your fingers on (and tidy up any drips you make); this is your only napkin.  If the wait-staff tries to take it away, put your hand over it and show that you're going to keep it!  OK, loosen your tie, roll up your sleeves, and relax -- you are in very good hands.

If you sit at a table (should there be any) you cannot go through the rituals of ordering from the sushi chef or enjoy the action at the sushi bar. Most people who sit at a table would instead order one of a few available fixed sushi set platters.  In a sushi shop in Japan, they seldom serve any other kinds of meals except sushi or sashimi, and some sushi bars do not have any tables at all unless they are also open for lunch.

Ordering Sushi

When you order at the sushi bar, it is assumed you are ordering NIGIRI sushi (on rice), unless what you order is obviously something different. If you order "ika", you will get squid sushi. If you just want the raw squid without rice, order "ika sashimi"; if you want it in a roll, say "ika maki", or for a hand roll, "ika te-maki". If there is any question, you can say "ika nigiri" for regular squid sushi. [For advanced speakers, the verbs are "niGIte", "MAIte" and "TE maite", usually followed by 'please': "Natto, te-maite kudasai": 'hand-roll some natto for me please'.]

In Japan, the sushi chef may ask you, when you sit down, if are eating "niGIri" or "tsuMAmi". Tsumami means you are eating without rice, that is, sashimi.  Your place will be set differently depending on which you say!  After you arrive, the sushi chef prepares a small thick wooden tray (called 'geta') which is placed in front of you, on the raised area of the counter; leave it there! For sushi, sliced pink or (preferably) whitish pickled ginger (gari) is placed on your tray, but no wasabi (the wasabi is in the sushi).  For sashimi, you get a mound of wasabi, some greens similar to watercress, and maybe wakame seaweed, instead of the ginger. You can still change your mind and have both sushi and sashimi.  In the U.S., however, you usually get wasabi and gari, and that's that!  The gari is a palate cleanser, nibbled between pieces of sushi. Some people devour it, others barely touch it.  Get some more by saying: "GAri kudaSAI".

There will be a small empty sauce dish in front of you, into which you pour a small amount of soy sauce for dipping your sushi. A soy sauce bottle or pitcher will be nearby. Most places now have low-sodium soy sauce (with a green top) which you can request. Just get the bottom of the sauce dish a little beyond wet.

For sashimi, mix a little bit of the wasabi paste into the soy sauce dish, to taste.  Wasabi has already been added to the sushi, and in Japan you don't even get wasabi if you're eating just sushi.  But some people -- well, yeah, darned near everybody! -- in U.S. sushi bars mix wasabi into the sauce dish for sushi anyway; try it both ways before choosing your style.

A few kinds of fish, like aji, suzuki, katsuo, and sometimes hirame come with a grated ginger garnish; if you order them as sashimi, you will be given another sauce dish to mix the ginger with soy sauce. So you can end up with one dish of soy sauce for sushi, another with wasabi and soy for sashimi, and a third for ginger and soy! The right sauce for the right dish. Eel sushi is spread with its own dark sauce, and should not be dipped in the soy sauce. Rolled sushi may be dipped lightly in the sauce, unless the chef tells you that it doesn't need any.

Although many U.S. sushi bars provide order sheets (for your convenience), the customary way to order when sitting at the sushi bar is to verbally order a few dishes at a time, directly to the sushi chef.  I always order this way, and if the place does not allow me to order from the chef, I find another place.  You can still use the order sheet -- or a plastic picture 'menu' -- as a reminder of what you may want.

In Japan, it is common for customers to just call out the names of the fish they want, without necessarily saying "please", or even waiting for the chef to approach them. In any case, the sushi chef usually repeats the order loudly enough for anyone in a passing taxi to understand. Like drinking houses, sushi bars are pleasantly noisy places. The sushi chef somehow keeps very accurate score of what each patron has ordered.

Please note that, as a Japanese sushi bar tradition, you can order drinks, tea, water, the bill, cooked appetizers, or whatever you need, directly from the sushi chef, even if someone else brings them to you -- you don't have to wait for a waiter to come by, and then try to flag him down!  The sushi chef will then shout your request back to the kitchen, or to whoever; from whence your order will be echoed back loudly, and fulfilled!  It is a team effort, but the guys behind the counter are your main contact.  That's the way it works in Japan.

In the U.S., however, this custom is not always observed, and may not be familiar (or acceptable to) to a non-Japanese chef.  As a result, many online sushi guides will tell you that it is rude to order anything but fish from the sushi chef --  Not where I eat!  In any case, you ask the chef for the bill, but you pay to the wait-staff -- hands that craft sushi should never touch money!

It is not unacceptable to ask the sushi chef what is particularly fresh. At a mediocre shop, this may prevent you getting something sub-par, or it may tempt the chef to unload something that isn't selling fast enough. In a better sushi bar, everything will be fresh, or the chef will warn you apologetically if you order something that he is not particularly proud of that day. It might prompt him to tell you of something special that is not on the 'menu', or he may not appreciate the inquiry.

You can also request "Omakase" (o-MAka-say), which means "chef's choice", or 'make me something special'. This might be done toward the end of your visit to make your last order something new and special. Hopefully, the chef has determined what kind of stuff you like. Clearly this is easier if your tastes are known to the chef -- whether you are a vegetarian, don't eat spicy or raw foods -- or if you are a complete omnivore.  You could also qualify this by saying you want a hand-roll Omakase, or some sashimi Omakase.  If you know the chef well -- or are really adventurous -- you can say "Omakase" at the beginning, and let him choose all your food!

When checking out a new sushi bar, I try to order a few things that tend to be good only in the better places. Maguro is always pretty good, but sweet shrimp, squid, and uni, for example, are noticeably poor when they are not very fresh or of good quality; and raw scallops, shrimp, and salmon are not even available in some places. If you don't care for these things, just order what you like and see if it measures up. Hamachi is another good test in Japan, but is almost always of good quality in the U.S.  (If you're just going to eat fancy rolls, fish quality isn't that critical, so you'll just go where the young crowd goes.)

Size is not necessarily a measure of quality or value. Some shops serve small portions of very good fish, some serve small portions of poor fish. Naturally, large pieces of good fish are a good value, but judge the quality on taste, then worry about the cost per pound when you get home. The size of the fish should be proportional to the size of the rice, that's just good sushi balance. Some places give you rice that is too big for the fish. If you want to fill that last corner of your stomach without breaking your budget, order tamago and a cucumber roll.

As sushi bars proliferate, I am surprised by the number of 'sushi chefs' who cannot make decent rice mounds! The rice mounds should be firm and smoothly coherent. Some of these guys leave rice bits sticking out all over the place, and the rice will fall apart as soon as you pick it up. This is like a 'sailor' who can't tie a knot!

In Japan, I usually have a little something to eat before or after the sushi shop, because I know I can't afford to fill up on sushi. While sushi is expensive, it is a lot cheaper in the U.S. than it is in Japan. Good U.S. sushi shops are frequented by (very) hungry Japanese foreign students, who can't believe their good luck!

When individual sushi arrives, the chef places it on the wooden tray in front of you. Some people just pick it up with their fingers, others always use chopsticks. Typically, you do a little of both. Sashimi is usually served on its own dish; use your chopsticks to eat it. It is bad form (but not a major blunder) to leave a piece of sushi or sashimi swimming in the sauce dish, mainly because it will soak up way too much soy sauce; a dash of soy is all that is required without smothering the delicate flavor of the fish.

Likewise, filling the sauce dish to the top is a sign of poor taste. A small amount of soy sauce in the bottom of the sauce dish is sufficient; it prevents you from over-soaking the sushi, and also leaves a little room to balance a half-eaten bit without getting it wet. When the dish gets dry, just pour in a little more.  It is not uncommon for even "experts" to occassionally drop a piece of sushi into the sauce dish -- if it's really full of soy sauce, you will douse not only yourself, but everyone in the vicinity.

Several sushi guides report that it is very bad manners to set a half-eaten piece of sushi back on the wooden tray, but I have seen this done often in Japan (as well as the U.S.), and it is not one of my "no-no's".

There is somewhat of a myth that people from Tokyo dip the fish side of the sushi in the soy sauce, while people from Osaka dip the rice side.  (I think this was just a slur on Osaka-folks, as soy sauce on rice is not to the Japanese taste.)  Try both and see if you can taste the difference. While it is more difficult to turn the sushi over without dumping the fish (especially with chopsticks), the rice is much more likely to fall apart when it gets wet. In Japanese eating etiquette, whenever bringing something to your mouth that may drip or crumble, you cup your other hand a few inches under it on the way. When you do get a few drops of soy on the counter or your hand, just tidy up with your wet cloth, it's no big deal. It's when you drop a whole load of sushi into a full sauce dish that you start to look bad.

Chopsticks -- o-hashi, o-te-moto:  Like silverware, chopsticks should be left resting on something, not laid on the bare counter. Prop them on any dish, or lay them across a plate or bowl -- perpendicular to you, or on a folded chopstick wrapper. Fancier restaurants provide little chopstick 'rests' ("hashi-oki") in various forms, but not usually in sushi bars. 

Whenever you pass food to someone else with chopsticks, do not use the end you have put in your mouth! Turn them around and use the larger end to do this.  Properly speaking, you should always do this when taking something off of a communal dish, but if you're just going to stick it in your mouth, perhaps nobody will notice...  The "whittling" of chopsticks may sometimes be seen in very cheap noodle-shops and such in Japan, but in a nice restaurant -- where they have decent chopsticks -- it is considered a bit insulting.

Please, please, do not leave chopsticks stuck into a bowl; it is considered extremely rude (in Japan), stemming from the practice of doing this only in a hibachi or a cremation urn. This is one custom that will definitely be noticed if you do not follow it.  If you drop your chopsticks on the floor, just ask for more; no demerits the first time.

Soup is drunk directly from the bowl, you eat out the solid bits with your chopsticks. It is normal practice to hold a bowl up in your hand while eating out of it, if you want to; this does not apply to plates but it includes eating out of rice bowls, soup bowls, and such.

In Japan, making a little bit of noise when you eat is not at all bad manners. The slurping of soup is not only acceptable, it is natural. I have seen Japanese watch in awe as a foreigner eats soup without making any noise. "How can you do that?" they ask; it is something their mothers never forced them to learn. Japanese are always using toothpicks, including at the table, where they are usually provided. However, they always cover their mouth with one hand, while picking with the other.

Burping and passing wind, in moderation, are also tolerated good-naturedly at the table. However, one of the worst things you can do is to loudly blow your nose at the dining table; this is considered very gross. People will stand up and turn to the wall, or go to the bathroom to do so. I once saw a business contract almost go up in smoke, due to an accomplished honking foreign visitor with a bad cold. Wiping quietly if fine, but if you must honk in Japanese company, please stand back to do so.

Japanese are always asking us, "What do you say in English before you eat?" Unless it's a prayer, we don't say a darned thing. But whenever Japanese sit down to a meal at home - and occasionally in restaurants - they place their hands together is a "praying" position, with the chopsticks crosswise, under the thumbs, and say "Ita-daki-mas", just before tucking into the food. It is not religious, and young people do it almost ironically with their friends in restaurants or on picnics:  "Ita-daki-MAAAS". It just means 'I eat' or 'I partake'.

Putting sugar into green tea, or soy sauce on plain rice is considered about like putting ketchup in your coffee, but you won't be the first, or last, to do so in the U.S., where it passes almost unnoticed. It is common to pour a small dash of soy sauce on dishes of pickles, cucumbers, or vegetables, if you like.

Drinking Etiquette

There is a certain amount of decorum associated with the consumption of alcoholic beverages in Japan which, while cumbersome (or esoteric) by American standards, is quite minimal compared to similar strictures in Korea, and on a par with those in some (albeit 'backward') European countries. Again, these are the conventions of drinking etiquette in Japan, and are not required in the U.S.

Pour drinks for your companions, don't pour your own drinks. This is not a "never, never" rule, but it is the custom, and it will be noticed (in Japan) if you do not observe it. It's OK to fill your own glass after filling your companions', but at least on the first drink, you should let someone pour for you. Sometimes when you do pour your own drink, your neighbor may reach over and just touch the bottom of the bottle as you pour; this satisfies his or her participation in serving you. If you go to a sushi bar alone, the waitress (in Japan) will sometimes pour your first glass when she brings the bottle, to prevent you from suffering an indignity.

Whenever anyone pours a drink for you, you should always be touching the glass; even if you don't pick it up; reaching out and tilting it to the bottle is a good half-way measure. If someone holds up the bottle to you, you are expected to raise your glass or cup to receive the drink. Drinks are always shared; if you order two bottles of beer or sake, you share the first one until it is empty, then move on to the next. Toasting is not that common except perhaps on the first drink, or when people really get into their cups.

It is the responsibility of each person to keep his partners' glasses full, or at least not under half full. In Japan, beer glasses are always small, about the size of small jelly glasses; this keeps the beer-pouring rituals going regularly. And sake cups (called choko) are of course minuscule. A nodding apology is required if your companion's glass stays empty and she is moved to pour her own drink; this is just etiquette, it's not a big deal unless it becomes habitual.

While you may normally finish your drinks at a sushi bar, at the end of a big group banquet, the table will be covered with full glasses, because the only way to stop drinking is to leave your glass full. Even then, if your companions feel that you are not doing your part to keep up the pace, they will proffer the bottle to your full glass, indicating that you need to drink some more so that they can pour for you. The only ways out of this are to take at least a small sip, or to pass out on the floor. This only applies to serious drinking occasions, usually in communal groups, and women are traditionally exempt.

Beer and sake are the traditional drinks with sushi. It is not uncommon to have both, even at the same time, or to switch back and forth, but many people stick to their favorite. Larger U.S. restaurants may have a selection of wines or even a full bar, while at a small sushi shop you may be lucky to find a single variety of white wine. It is also perfectly acceptable to just drink green tea, water, or a soft drink. Another sidelight on parties: a banquet table will be set with beer, sake, and whisky, and everyone gets glasses for all three. When the bottles go around, you get some of each.

Should you offer the sushi chef a drink?  I have only done this occassionally -- in Japan -- with chefs that I had become familiar with.  In the U.S., most chefs will turn you down anyway, because this is illegal in most states.  (Would you offer to buy your waiter or bartender a drink?)  Perhaps some chefs enjoy having a little drink, but some have told me they actually dislike these offers and find them "too familiar" or inappropriate, in addition to being detrimental to working. But, if you find a chef you like who likes to receive drinks from you, go ahead and try.

Drinking etiquette only applies to drinking alcoholic beverages. It is the duty of the waitress or sushi chef to keep your tea hot and your water glass wet.

Eventually, no matter how long you've lingered over your sushi, drinks, tea, and conversation, you have to pay up and leave.  Postpone this as long as possible, by ordering only a couple of items at a time, and savoring them leisurely as you talk and sip your drinks. This is not MacDonalds, and if you aren't careful you could be back out on the street -- in the real world! -- in an hour or so! Relax and enjoy the sushi experience as long as you possibly can.

You can announce your intention to leave in several ways. You can just ask for the bill, which is quite acceptable; you don't have to wait for a waiter to pass by, ask the sushi chef - he's the one who keeps track of your orders anyway. Or you can just thank the chef for the good food by saying "go-chi-SO-sama", which usually results in the bill being tallied, whether you immediately rise to leave or not. In Japan, the bill is paid at the cash register, in the U.S., at your seat; ask the chef, and pay to the waiter.

Another subtle way to get your bill tallied (at least in Japan) is to order tea ("agari"), at the end of an evening of drinking; it is assumed you are done. If you order any rice dishes (see "Afters", above), it is also assumed that you have stopped drinking; tea will be served, and your bill tallied.

Tipping: In Japan, there is absolutely NO tipping allowed; it would cause extreme embarrassment to those whose job and life work it is to serve you and enhance your enjoyment.

In the U.S., you do tip at the sushi bar, at least as much as you would for table service.  I have read several discussions fretting and arguing about the right way to tip at a sushi bar in the U.S.  Do you tip the chef separately from the wait staff? How? How much? Do you leave cash on the bar? 

Okay, call me provincial (I don't eat sushi in New York or Boston), but I just leave a good tip when I pay the bill, like any other restaurant, and let them figure out what to do with it!  I've never gotten rude service -- where I eat -- for this behavior. If I did, I'd stop going there. Most of my favorite places are small, and have the owner behind the bar cutting fish!  I may also have had several items served from the kitchen, or not; but I'm not going to worry about that. Like any other place, if I have received something for free from the chef, I may add a little to my tip. Since there is traditionally NO tipping in Japan, any "extra" tips "required" by a chef just seem tacky to me, but that's my experience.  (But if you're used to eating in places where you have to tip the 'maitre de' and the hat-check girl and the bathroom attendant and the doorman, then you might as well tip the sushi chef, too.)

As you duck under the shop curtain on your way out, all the workers say good-bye to you, and you should already be looking forward to your next visit.

Don't stop here, there's plenty more Sushi a la Carte on the next page...

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