So, what is Daisuke Nakazawa doing in Seattle after 11 years under the tutelage of Shiro Kashiba's longtime friend and mentor? Nancy Leson tells all. DAISUKE NAKAZAWA’S grin widened when I ordered “omakase” at Shiro’s last June — giving the 34-year-old sushi chef, newly arrived from Tokyo, the go-ahead to show me what he’s got. What he didn’t have was command of the English language. Smiling and nodding, he presented me with Spanish mackerel (“sawara!”) and fresh Hood Canal shrimp (“amaebi!”), then, at meal’s end, handed-off a pair of tamago nigiri, crowing, “Jiro Dreams of Sushi!” “Yes,” I said, admiring the thick cut of his sweet omelet. “I saw that documentary,” an homage to Jiro Ono, the elderly owner of a 10-seat sushi bar in a Ginza district subway station — and the man some call the world’s greatest sushi chef. “Jiro Dreams of Sushi!” Daisuke repeated, when it was clear I’d missed his point. I failed to recognize this smiling sushiman as the film’s solemn senior apprentice who famously recounted making tamago under the stern eye of Jiro Ono: months of failure, 200 rejections and, finally, approval.

“I was so happy I cried,” the subtitle read. So, what is Daisuke doing in Seattle after 11 years under the tutelage of Shiro Kashiba’s longtime friend and mentor?Shiro doesn’t have any,” explains a translator speaking for the majority owner who bought Shiro’s in 2007. “We want Shiro to keep working,” as he does three nights a week, “but we need a next generation.” “I’m a lucky boy,” adds Daisuke, recruited to sustain the tradition of edomae sushi — the classics, hold the mango-tango roll — under Shiro’s Belltown banner. Since his arrival, he’s been an enthusiastic student of ESL, and learned to chide pickled-ginger-scarfing patrons with Shiro-esque wit, noting that palate refresher is meant “to change taste; it is not a salad!” He’s appeared with Shiro at community events and shared Jiro’s secrets with his colleagues, showing them how to smoke king mackerel over hay. And he expresses his naturally ebullient character, says Shiro, when he jokes, “bluefin, the Wagyu beef of sushi!”

Daisuke was 19 when he got his first job at a suburban sushi joint. He gave it up to work as a “salaryman” for an Internet company, leaving that job to take on two more: waking at 4:30 a.m. to schlep tuna carcasses at Tsukiji market, then working nights in a restaurant. He married on his 23rd birthday, about the time Jiro Ono placed a want ad for an apprentice. “Lucky boy” got the job at Sukiyabashi Jiro — which later earned three Michelin stars.jiro dreams of sushi uitzending gemist For the first three months, he recalls, “It was all cleaning, all obeying, saying ‘Yes, yes,’ and never talking back.” sumo sushi menu goldsboroBy the fourth month he was allowed to handle fish. jiro dreams of sushi indonesia srt

It was five years before he stood behind the sushi bar assisting Jiro and his son. Daisuke says working for Jiro gave him the confidence to apply for a job overseas, uproot his wife and children, and embark on a career he loves — but would not wish on his sons. “You work too hard.” At Sukiyabashi Jiro, where patrons pay $300-plus for omakase, the experience is more about reverence than revelry. where to get sushi grade fish meat torchlightThere, “their ultimate goal is deliciousness,” said Daisuke. sakiko no sushi (2008) onlineAt Shiro’s, “It’s about enjoyment and entertainment.”samurai sushi menu almaty Shiro, 71, says his ambitious new hire has what it takes to spread the gospel of old-school sushi in America.

As for Daisuke, “My dream,” he says, “is to be the No. 1 sushi chef in the U.S.” Nancy Leson is The Seattle Times’ food writer. Benjamin Benschneider is a Pacific NW magazine staff photographer.In my favorite episode of Chef’s Table, a new, six-episode series premiering on Netflix this Sunday, April 26, the famous Argentine chef Francis Mallmann guts a couple of brook trout, then washes them clean by dragging them around in a lake. It's just a regular day in Mallmann land. Francis Mallmann roasts chickens over a fire in Chef’s Table. Then he uses soft, wet clay he's just dug from the water to seal the fish up, and places the bundle on a low fire to slowly cook in its own steam. It's an old, uncomplicated technique, but it's beautiful to watch him work. The best moments in this new series, each episode profiling a different chef around the world, let you quietly observe what goes on behind the scenes, equal parts food porn and character study.

This is Mallmann in his natural habitat, the vast wilderness, speaking about what he does in a characteristically poetic way. Things could easily get goofy, and sometimes they do: "When you build a fire, it's a bit like making love," Mallmann says at one point. Later he reads poetry by the dying firelight. An hour-long boat ride takes Mallmann to his home on an island. But David Gelb (who directed the lauded Jiro Dreams of Sushi, about Japanese sushi master Jiro Ono) has created a documentary series that explores complex stories about his subjects, without letting them get too cartoonish. Mallmann is the romantic, wandering the hills for firewood, reading poetry by the firelight, but he's more than that, too. Red pepper egg with everything, a dish from Dan Barber. As Mallmann grills whole lambs, and hangs chickens over the coals, the episode goes into his past, to tell the story of how Mallmann, who was born in Buenos Aires but raised in Patagonia, came to reject French fine dining and "making fancy French food for rich Argentines," and went on to champion his own rustic, homegrown cooking techniques and ingredients.

It didn't happen overnight. Chances are you're already familiar with the other chef subjects, which include Massimo Bottura of Osteria Francescana in Modena, Italy; Ben Shewry of Attica in Melbourne; and Magnus Nilsson of Fäviken in Järpen, Sweden. Two episodes feature American chefs: Dan Barber of Blue Hill in NYC and Niki Nakayama of N/Naka in Los Angeles. I was skeptical of the series at first. Do all these chefs deserve the Jiro treatment? After all, these chefs are famous—properly, internationally famous—and their stories have been told so many times, in so many glossy magazines, that I wondered if there would be any surprises. Salted kangaroo from Attica. Chef’s Table goes deeper into each chef's story and often nudges a bit at uncomfortable themes that most puff pieces tend to leave out, like Shewry's harsh financial struggles. Nakayama, who was not expected by her immediate family to succeed, talks about this only briefly, but the episode goes back to this theme of drive and perseverance in subtle, moving ways.