Yanagiba (sushi knife), ohashi (chopsticks) properly resting on an ivory spotted seal hashioki, and David Gelb’s documentary of world-renowned sushi chef Jiro Ono. Let the feast begin. The shots of sushi will wow you. Segments depicting 85-year-old Jiro Ono magically transforming rice and fish into pieces of art that are at once too beautiful to be eaten and yet must be eaten will mesmerize you. The manner in which he and his 51-year-old son run Sukiayabashi Jiro, a 10-seat sushi restaurant in the underground subway system in Tokyo’s ritzy Ginza District will, perhaps, prompt you to make subtle (or not so subtle) changes in the way you run your own kitchen. At the very least, you are likely to come away from the film with a heightened appreciation of tamagoyaki – the grilled egg dish frequently served on nigiri sushi menus. Sukiabashi Jiro is the only sushi restaurant in the world to earn Michelin’s top rating – the coveted three stars. The simple definition of a three-star restaurant is this: a restaurant that by itself makes a trip to that country worthwhile.

As a self-taught chef, as a father, as a person who is seeking to perfect my own path in life, and as one who lived in Japan for nine years and came to deeply appreciate the Japanese sensibility toward life, this film profoundly moved me. Jiro Ono embodies the characteristics of the shokunin – a master craftsman or artisan who, while possessing superb technical skills in his field, is also aware of his responsibility to model an honorable life and to look out for the welfare of others. In the film, Masahiro Yamamoto, one of Japan’s leading food critics,  identifies the five attributes of a great chef. These attributes are no doubt valued by all shokunin. 1. A serious attitude toward one’s work 2. Aspiration to improve – to strive for perfection 3. Cleanliness (which includes a proper order in one’s life and work) 4. Lead rather than collaborate 5. Bring passion to one’s work, (and through that passion to discover moments of ecstasy) I’m going to add a sixth element to Yamamoto’s list.

If Jiro’s life is about striving for perfection, the question is begged, “Perfection to what end?” To what purpose are the above five attributes? It is this: They are all aimed toward providing others with an ultimate experience. Jiro dreams of sushi, yes. But what he really dreams of is providing his customers with a perfect dining experience. That is the sixth attribute: The desire to provide others with a penultimate experience.sushi in suhl (2012) Some of these attributes are, perhaps, antithetical to current western thinking. yo sushi menu bluewaterTherein lies the core of the criticisms of this film. sushi making kit pretoriaAren’t we supposed to value collaboration? samurai sushi menu nashville

Is the emphasis on cleanliness really so important? Is Jiro truly interested in others, or is he merely a shallow, self-inflated ego with no meaningful connection to other human beings – including his wife and his two sons? Doesn’t taking one’s work too seriously lead to imbalance in life? I think this much is fair to observe: The path Jiro Ono has chosen in life is not a path that would suit everyone. sushi grade fish milwaukee wiBut it is a path I admire. yo sushi dubai menu mirdifIn the director’s cut, it is mentioned that a regret is that Jiro’s wife was unable to be in the film. This seems to be owing to the health of a woman in her 80’s, not about a failed partnership. His sons are both key players in the film, and speak of their father with honor, respect and love. They have both chosen to follow in his line of work, to embrace his teaching and have become highly respected sushi chefs in their own right.

In turn, Jiro speaks with pride and admiration of both of his sons. As a father, I can very much relate to Jiro’s philosophy regarding child-rearing. You spend your life teaching and guiding, and in the end you hope a good bit of it takes root. In both of Jiro’s sons, his teaching did stick, his guidance payed off, and because his sons worked for many years in his restaurant, he ultimately spent more time with them than most fathers ever spend with their children. As to taking one’s work too seriously and carving out one’s own path rather than collaborating, I grew up in a family wherein, not just in my nuclear family but in all the uncles and aunts in my extended family, the life philosophy most frequently espoused was an admonition to not take work (or anything else) too seriously. It was a philosophy that did not work for me, and ultimately inspired an opposing philosophy. At the age of 4o, I began the long, sometimes arduous, deeply satisfying process of remaking my life.

Part of the remaking has been rooted in a newfound freedom – a self-given permission to pursue life with renewed passion, dedication and a commitment to honor and excellence.  As I move forward with this life as a sailor, chef, writer, photographer, father and husband, this film that so eloquently captures the life and spirt of a true shokunin resonates.The quintessential “lifestyle” documentary, Jiro Dreams of Sushi combines a profile of a celebrity chef, a quick cultural immersion and many mouth-watering montages of food preparation in one package. Akin to one of The New Yorker’s vintage profiles, the film begins with a few attention-grabbing facts about its subject and gradually adds layers of broader and deeper context, touching on persona,, family and the esthetic and culinary traditions of Japan. The star is Jiro Ono, a revered 85-year-old sushi chef who runs Sukiyabashi Jiro, a 10-seat restaurant in the basement of an office building adjacent to the Ginza subway station in Tokyo.

In spite of its location, Sukiyabashi Jiro has a three-star Michelin rating as one of the finest restaurants in the world. Reservations must be made a month in advance and meals start at $300 a person. We know this when an out-of-towner bumbles into the unprepossessing restaurant, wondering if they have any take-out menus. When he’s told the price and reservation wait, he backs out bowing quickly. We know how great the restaurant is from Tokyo food critic Masuhiro Yamamoto, who declares that no other restaurant in Tokyo can compare: “No one ever has a bad experience there,” he says. The standard course, without the distractions of alcohol or main courses, is a 20-piece symphony of sushi from mild to increasing complex tastes, guided by traditional rules of extreme simplicity (no sushi pizzas here) and precision. Fish slices are lightly brushed with soy sauce and wasabi. There are three kinds of tuna, of different degrees of fatness. Shrimp are killed moments before being served.

Jiro has his own rice dealer, who refuses to sell to the top hotels because they wouldn’t know what to do with his quality of rice. The egg tuna that serves as desert is an art form in itself: One of the kitchen cooks said he took months before his first piece was accepted. The film is a portrait of the artisan ( shokunin) as an old man. At work since he was 9, Ono is a former soldier who, since he first apprenticed as a chef, has dreamed about ways to improve sushi. He obsesses about improving his craft by getting the best ingredients, massaging the octopus 40 minutes instead of 30, and experimenting to find exactly the right serving temperature. What else is the film about? The traditional, and sometimes negative obsession with dedication and sacrifice. Ono is proudly tough, a workaholic, who says he derives a kind of ecstasy from work, which depends on others sacrificing for him. At 70 he had a heart attack and decided that, perhaps, it was time to let his sons buy fish from the market for him.