Last night Momoko and I went for some sushi to celebrate our last evening in Tokyo. We went to Naka-Meguro in a small riverside place where we sat at the bar and the clientele smoked a lot. There were a dozen or so of the fishy little bricks on a wooden block in front of us and we were working our way through them with a couple of beers.
Gradually, my attention was taken by a new dish that was being prepared in front of us. The chef had got a live fish and cut the fillets off it. Then he skewered it and sat it upon a pile of grated radish and arranged the cut up pieces of its own fillets around it. There was a nice little pile of ginger on the side. It looked spectacular, but the poor fish was still gasping for life after 5 minutes of preparation.
Momoko's reaction was "wow - that is truly fresh fish",Â whereas mine was to dissolve into tears and not be able to finish my sushi. I was too upset to take a picture,Â so here's a drawing of the last moments of poor Mr. Fish.