It's a long hard road
As sustainable sushi begins to gain a foothold in the United States, it makes sense to do a quick recap of how far we’ve come.
When you look at the headlines, it is easy to feel disheartened. Traditionalists and high-end restaurants are seeing Industry staples like bluefin tuna under threat of extinction. On the other end of the spectrum, unsustainable aquaculture and overfishing are compounded as sushi continues to backslide into the realm of quick-fix fast food.
For example, take the ubiquitous Genki Sushi, which wraps its tentacles around the globe like Kraken attacking a Norse longship. The robotic sushi giant has long dominated Japan and Hawaii, but new installations have recently popped up in Singapore, Malaysia, Hong Kong, and Thailand. The company has even managed to establish a presence on contiguous American soil, with restaurants opening their doors in New York and, most recently, Seattle. Genki is not aimed at delivering a white-tablecloth sushi experience, but rather a quick in-and-out power lunch revolving around a gimmicky network of robots and converyor belts.
Greed on the high seas
This kind of mass-produced sushi tends to draw from mechanized fishing, as it demands large amounts of cheap fish that can be sold in massive quantities for acceptable prices. Factory trawling operations take advantage of economies of scale by ripping staggering amounts of fish and shellfish biomass out of our oceans in single swoops. This keeps their operation costs down and allows them to undercut other fishermen in the marketplace. Fast food sushi relies on these marine rapists – otherwise, how are they going to sell two pieces of nigiri for $2.25 and make a profit?
(I should mention that a Genki has recently announced a plan to begin incorporating seasonal and loval seafood and vegetables into their restaurant menus. This is theoretically fabulous news, but I’m going to hold off on the fireworks until I have more information. More on this in the next few weeks – hopefully Genki will respond to my interview request.)
It's a start
Parenthetical caveats aside, the point of this somber introduction is not to reiterate this depressing state of affairs, but rather to highlight those few pioneers who have lit beacons in the darkness. Indeed, there’s no time like the present for an examination of the resounding successes that the sustainable sushi movement has enjoyed in the face of this creeping malaise.
This serial piece will examine the current status of the three known sustainable sushi restaurants that are currently operating in North America: Bamboo Sushi, Mashiko, and Tataki Sushi and Sake Bar. I will certainly include other restaurants if appropriate.
Perhaps the best thing I can do to foster the growth of this list is to expound a bit on the triumphs and setbacks of these restaurants. Each of them has adopted a different business model and interpreted sustainability in a different way, and thus they have engendered their own opportunities and challenges.
It is my hope that these articles will encourage other sushi chefs and entrepreneurs to entertain the idea of moving towards sustainability themselves. Many thanks to Sushihound for providing me with the idea for this piece.
Tags: bamboo, chef, fast food, genki, genki sushi, mashiko, restaurant, robot, strip mall, sustainability, Tataki Sushi and Sake Bar, trawler, vanguard
Nice to meat you
One of the little joys of the sushi dining experience is the rapport that one builds with the chef. Unique among major North American cuisines, sushi offers a customer the opportunity to dine in a face-to-face setting with those behind the sushi bar. In addition to watching the masterful knife-play that is involved with the proper preparation of one’s mixed sashimi plate or order of kohada nigiri, it affords us an all-too-uncommon experience in modern America: the chance to get to know the person who is feeding us.
Closed kitchen
Consider our other restaurant dining options. It is exceedingly rare to find oneself in a non-Japanese eating establishment wherein one has the choice to sit directly before the executive chef and interact with him (over 95% of sushi chefs in the United States are men… but that’s the subject of a different post) throughout the meal. Try to find a French restaurant where the chef prepares your coq au vin tableside, or a California fusion joint that seats you next to the line cook so you can chat while he sets you up with your steamed halibut with Napa cabbage and mango salsa.
Only in the sushi world are we treated to this intimate experience of dining in the company of the chef. The irony of this situation, however, is that even though sushi diners have the opportunity to connect with the architect of the dishes they enjoy, they are often more removed than ever from the real star of the show — the fish itself.
Sushi does not typically present itself to us as fish. When it arrives at the table, it has been artfully sliced and diced, festooned with ornamental seaweeds and vegetables, and cradled by softly interwoven granules of rice. It’s a magnificent creation: a delightful dining experience that enraptures the eyes as well as the taste buds… but at what cost? Is there a price to pay for perfection in presentation?
Possibly.
I've got a secret
The oceans are under threat from overfishing, pollution and trash dumping, bottom trawling, and more. One of the reasons that these practices are allowed to continue is that the realm of the aquatic is separated from our perception by our inability of human vision to pierce the waves. What lies beneath the ocean’s surface is nothing as much as a deep and fascinating mystery. If we could bear quotidian witness to the damage wrought by our actions, would we still behave this way?
No one here but us flowers
It is difficult for us to offer fish the respect they deserve when we are unable to perceive them as living, breathing animals that have unique characteristics and habits, that form an integral part of an ecosystem that we are only just beginning to comprehend. In the context of sushi, these fish — many of which have never been seen by the vast majority of Americans in any form other than sliced to ribbons — are not presented as animals, but rather as an assortment of delectable morsels in a culinary tapestry woven together for our sensual pleasure.
So how do we surmount this obstacle? Part of saving the oceans is building awareness of the impacts of our choices, so how can we enjoy sushi while maintaining a connection to the fish that gave its life for our meal?
The secret is right in front of us.
Stay tuned.
Tags: art, chef, cuisine, culture, eye, itadakimsu, kitchen, kohada, presentation, respect, sushi, sushi bar, sushi chef
