HarperCollins, 2007
Hardcover, $24.95
Looking Closely at the Folks in the White Coats
Maine is a contributor to the world of sushi, as the source of two of the primary species that go into the cuisine. In the summer we export fantastically large and fantastically expensive bluefin tuna, and in the winter this contribution is in the form of the soft yellow gold of diver-harvested sea urchin eggs. However, sushi remains a somewhat exotic cuisine here, and even for those who love fish on rice, the world behind the sushi bar is often still shrouded in mystery. Trevor Corson exposes this world, going into journalistic detail on not only the makeup and construction of the sushi itself, but more particularly into the process of the making of sushi chefs themselves. The author has a history of looking deeply into gastromonic marine products, with his first book, The Secret Life of Lobsters, looking at the biology and sociology of Maine lobster fishing.
He follows the students of a single class at the California Sushi Academy, based in Los Angeles, from their first moments of handling the ultra-sharp, high-carbon, laminated steel Japanese knives, to their seeking and finding jobs in new sushi bars throughout the country. This three-month course is one of the only ones in the world, and replaces traditional internships in Japan, where students might spend two years just making the rice, and an additional three years learning the kitchen skills, before ever standing in front of a real customer. As he follows the fortunes of three of the students, he reports along the way on much of the content of the class, including the right way to skin an eel, the basis of sushi in ancient fermented fish preservation methods, the chauvinism that pervades the management world behind the bar, and the transition the genre has made from austere, simple fingers of raw fish to the fat and tasty rolls that Americans love, filled with avocado, fried shrimp, chili pepper sauce and other non-traditional ingredients.
I particularly enjoyed the technical, historical and biological notes, and was less enthused about the personal story of the students, which included an aging Japanese pop-star seeking a new career, a 21-year-old southern California woman who had never had a prior job in food preparation, and an 18 year old happy-go-lucky surfer type. All of them took the class seriously, as they should have, given the $5,500 tuition. The instructors (one of whom was Australian) seemed to take their cues from military basic training, with regular inspections, personal berating and long hours. By the end of the book I will admit to being caught up in the new lives of the students, and celebrating their successes with them. I know I will look more closely at the folks in the white coats the next time I sit down at the sushi bar. The technical and historical parts were scattered throughout the text like concentrated bits of sashimi (traditional slices of raw fish served without rice), and were enjoyed in much the same way, taken whole and savored, lending appreciation to the effort that goes into each and every sushi plate. For fish lovers anywhere, amateur chefs and particularly for sushi enthusiasts, this book makes for a good and thorough (at 327 pages) read, although it may leave the reader with a serious hankering for a night out for uni, unago, sake, and chutoro. q
Ben Neal is a graduate student at the Scripps Institution of Oceanography in San Diego, California.