These days, it’s not uncommon to walk into a restaurant and find a chef that you’ve seen on TV—maybe in a Quick-Fire Challenge on Top Chef, or judging the latest crop of would-be stars on Chopped. They are stars in the Hollywood sense of the word—famous, mostly, because they were on a show about making people famous. Maybe you watched them have a breakdown over a collapsed soufflé, or verbally undress someone about over-saucing some pasta. I experienced a very different flicker of recognition when taking a bar seat at Sushi Nakazawa this past weekend, a new Japanese restaurant helmed by Daisuke Nakazawa. With his bald head and slightly crooked front teeth, he’s unmistakably that lovably humble apprentice from Jiro Dreams of Sushi—the one who toils for months on end to master tamagoyaki, the slightly sweet omelette that, like many aspects of Japanese cooking, is simple to the naked eye, but incredibly difficult to get right. One of the film’s most heartwarming moments is watching Nakazawa recall the moment when he finally wins Jiro’s respect.

“I was so happy that I wanted to throw my fist in the air,” he says. “But I tried to not let it show.” Now, standing behind the the counter of his own sleek West Village joint, flanked by his disciples meticulously hand-grating wasabi and scooping glistening spoonfuls of uni, you can’t stop the guy from smiling from ear to ear. He’s got his own stage to play on, and it’s clear that he’s having fun with it. At one point, he slapped a giant mantis shrimp onto the bar and left it to writhe and wriggle about, inducing oohs and ahhs from the audience and proving that—when it comes to Instagramming $150, 20-course omakase dinners—New Yorkers are as quick on the draw as Wyatt Earp. Later, he dropped an immaculate hunk of fatty tuna on my plate and said, “Wagyu from the sea,” throwing back his head and releasing a big guffaw. And when a diner asked what his favorite restaurant in New York is, he barely missed a beat before blurting out, “Five Guys!” Talking about customizing cheeseburgers seemed sort of an odd thing to do while we ate perfect morsels of pike mackerel and giant clam, but it was also sort of awesome.

Left to right: Mantis shrimp, uni, medium-fatty tunajuego sushi cat the honeymoon 2 If breaking the monastic stereotype of real-deal sushi counters in the city is a breath of fresh air, it’s only because it’s not accompanied by any corner-cutting when it comes to the actual food. jiro dreams of sushi peliculaYou can easily find yourself zoning out for minutes at a time watching the team blowtorch freshly formed nigiri, sort through different varieties of beautifully aged fish, and wield knives that would make Crocodile Dundee shit his pants. jiro dreams of sushi 5 qualitiesThe rice—which people who know a lot more about sushi than I will tell you is the key to the good stuff—is seasoned just right and packed so delicately that it falls apart as soon as it hits your mouth. ninja sushi menu west bloomfield

And the fish is a reminder that, when you’re paying two stacks for an hour and a half of sushi and sake, locavorism is for the birds.ichiban sushi menu sandy Yes, you might get some Long Island fluke or Maine scallop, but you’ll also eat your way around the globe: yellowtail from Hokkaido, blue shrimp from New Caledonia, sea urchin from Santa Barbara. jiro dreams of sushi italianoFor Nakazawa, stating the origin of each bite isn’t designed to make people feel good about themselves; it’s about articulating pride in the idea that every product is the best articulation of that particular fish. He even lets you know the nori wrapped around the one hand roll of the night—an evolved take on spicy tuna, with Japanese mustard in place of the usual globs of mayo—is harvested from Tokyo Bay and of the highest possible quality.

You can easily find yourself zoning out for minutes at a time watching the team blowtorch freshly formed nigiri, sort through different varieties of beautifully aged fish, and wield knives that would make Crocodile Dundee shit his pants. Amid all of the minimalist preparations are some curveballs that add some flair to the proceedings: triggerfish was topped with its own liver for an extra boost of richness, and one of the most memorable bites of the night was Atlantic sockeye salmon that had been smoked over hay on the roof of the restaurant. But the former student still pays homage where it counts, ending the meal with impeccable slices of that familiar tamagoyaki. As my dining partner noted, it’s probably a contractual obligation. After placing this last piece on each person’s plate at the bar (he serves every single piece by hand through the entire meal), Nakazawa bowed, said a hearty thank you, and promptly disappeared. A fitting mic drop for a chef who finally has his own show.

I think most of us were hoping he’d return for an encore of sorts—maybe some more of the medium-fatty tuna that disintegrates on your tongue like cotton candy, or a piece of the smoky skipjack. He did come back, but for a different purpose: to pour himself a beer, which he used to cheers everyone enthusiastically. Somehow, it was just as satisfying.Reservations for the 10-seat sushi counter can be made for two people only—they go live a month out at 12:05am, and they fill up fast. The omakase is slightly cheaper in the dining room ($120 instead of $150), but you’d be a fool to miss the show at the bar. At $40, sake pairings are both excellent and well-priced, but it’s tough to keep up with them over the course of 20 small bites. The 2011 hit documentary Jiro Dreams of Sushi profoundly and artfully illuminates how a hard-working master sushi chef catapulted his tiny 10-seat restaurant in a Tokyo subway station into a mecca for coveted $300 tasting menus. Diners across the globe making pilgrimages to Sukiyabashi Jiro might take note of the flowing green tea and 45-minute massaged octopus, but not the females painstakingly working behind the counter.

There are none — and save for a poignant transformation in thinking about gender roles, there never will be. Earlier this year a Business Insider article brought to light a four-year-old quote by Jiro Ono’s son in a Wall Street Journal feature. When asked why there were neither female chefs nor apprentices at the famed restaurant, he matter-of-factly responded that it is “because women menstruate. To be a professional means to have a steady taste in your food, but because of the menstrual cycle, women have an imbalance in their taste, and that’s why women can’t be sushi chefs." This rationale, along with an equally ridiculous stigma about females' slightly warmer body temperature, shows how sushi is woefully behind the rest of the kitchen world when it comes to gender equality.Oona Tempest, who works at Tanoshi Sushi in New York, is one of the few females making her mark on the U.S. sushi sphere. She attributes this dearth to history and politics. Sushi, Edomae in particular — “simplistic, clean and now frequently omakase-style” — first surfaced as street food in Tokyo in the mid to late 1800s.

It had a significant chance to blossom in restaurant settings when post-1923 earthquake revitalizations across the city led to low rents and venues for chefs to hone their skills. “The timeframe of the birth of sushi coincides with the fall of the samurai,” she explains. “However, the disciplined mentality and uncompromising spirit of these warriors found further life in the mindset of individuals — sushi chefs in particular. Our knives are made by the same technique that once created samurai swords.” Zen discipline, Tempest adds, helped to form a craft that reflects physical, mental and spiritual precision and perfection. While Tempest acknowledges that sushi has undergone tremendous change post-globalization, it still strives to maintain “its original state. Unfortunately, by-products of that preservation are some outdated beliefs about the ‘second sex.’ Master chefs willing to take on a female apprentice are just as, if not more so, scarce than females willing to learn.”

Tempest is lucky, then, because her master at Tanoshi — who abides by magokoro, the concept of having a strong, genuine core spirit — promised early on to train her just as he would a man. “It isn’t about gender here. Work environments like we have are extremely rare,” she explains. Yet that doesn’t stop the occasional skeptical customer from asking her if the temperature of her purportedly warmer hands will harm the fish she touches. Such old-fashioned thoughts propelling a sushi boys’ club has inevitably led to frustration, particularly in Japan, where females are largely dismissed and even deemed inferior in this male-entrenched industry. Stereotypes like these spawned Nadeshico five years ago, a Tokyo sushi joint with an all-female staff looking for a fair and capable shot in a field that’s been off-limits to them simply because they are women. “I wish it had become well-known due to the quality of the food, not because of gender. But to do so would also dismiss the advances of female rights in Japan.

Ultimately, I hope this conversation will not be about men or women and just the cuisine and art,” Tempest says.Niki Nakayama, the celebrated Los Angeles chef behind n/Naka, hopes Nadeshico’s future is “a genuine and authentic endeavor and not something that is gimmicky.”Before opening n/Naka, where sashimi preparations grace the kaiseki-style menus, Nakayama (pictured above), who was featured on Netflix’s Chef’s Table, ran Azami Sushi Café. A mélange of talent, focus and commitment is what led her to such impressive heights. “It was challenging for me in that I was only taught certain things, but I also attribute this to Japanese kitchens, which I understood to be conservative in passing on any knowledge,” she says. “Japanese society as a whole is not very supportive of women in the workplace or of women having a career. Perhaps there are not many females making sushi because it's something that is not imaginable in people's minds.” By exercising impressive discipline, Nakaba Miyazaki has also made a name for herself by helping lead the charge of one of New York’s most hallowed kitchens, Sushi Yasuda.