How this Japanese man went from pilgrim to sushi chef

CNA

2 days ago

The men lower their net, taut with thrashing fish, into the water. Most of them bolt into the deep, save for a handful of sea bream that nestle contentedly against the nylon threads.
'Why aren't they moving?' a young Taku Ashino asked his older companion.
'Those are fish that escaped from a farm,' came the reply. 'They're used to being carried in and out of the water by nets.'
The answer struck Ashino like a lightning bolt. It dawned on him that like the farmed fish, he too had been sheltered and shaped by the safety of routine, reluctant to leave the comforts of home. There was only one thing to do. 'I decided to drop out of university and become a pilgrim to face my true self,' he said as we sat in his restaurant along Club Street. 'I didn't know what I wanted to be, but I knew I could find my way if I was true to myself.'
Ashino spent the next two years walking the Shikoku Henro, a 1,207-km pilgrimage that links 88 temples across Shikoku Island's four prefectures. Following in the footsteps of generations of spiritual seekers before him, he roamed the remote trails, discovering not only a different side of his home country but also unknown facets of himself.
In solitude, he found clarity. He discovered he could talk to the birds and the butterflies, and as the distinction between self and surroundings dissolved, became attuned to the rhythms of nature and the interconnectedness of all life. When he completed the pilgrimage, he briefly considered becoming a monk. 'But monks are also caught in a net,' he added. 'That net is called Buddhism. So I decided to come back to university and study very hard.'
To fund his post-graduate studies in religious philosophy, Ashino took a job at a restaurant where he encountered another figure who would alter the course of his life. 'The chef's name is Sekine. He was the sous chef and a sushi chef at the izakaya where I worked. I immediately knew I wanted to be like him.'
SUSHI IS LIFE
Two decades on and the tenets of religious philosophy and the belief in nature's divinity remain a core part of Ashino. They guide the way he works and how he deals with the living creatures he uses for his food. In the 10 years since he opened Sushi Ashino in Singapore, he has made aged sashimi or jukusei a hallmark of his offerings. This, he said, is his way of respecting each life he takes in the service of feeding his diners well. 'This is my respect. I am not just cutting fresh fish. I use the best ingredients and enhance each flavour and texture.'
Under his charge, silvery-skinned gizzard shad is cured in salt and vinegar, and tusk fish carefully aged between briny sheets of kombu. The longest he's aged a fish is five months. At three months, the flesh of a Spanish mackerel was firm and chewy, with a dryness that intensifies the dab of wasabi which fills my mouth with a persistent warmth.
Another aspect of honouring his catches is shinkejime, a method of dispatching fish he picked up from Hiroki Hasegawa, a well-known fish broker in Japan. The technique involves holding the fish in a particular spot to keep it calm and the swift severing of its spinal cord, which purportedly causes the animal little stress and slows the degeneration process. For practice, Ashino fishes in local waters. 'I do many (shinkejime) practice on the Singapore fish. Sometimes, I do shinkejime on one fish and not on another of the same type of fish to compare. And definitely, without shinkejime, there is a smell,' he said.
Not everyone is excited about the prospect of dining on sashimi cut from local fish, but it's a prejudice Ashino hopes to debunk over time. 'Singapore fish is just as good as Japan fish,' he explained. 'Of course, the sea temperature is higher than Japan, so the fish is leaner, but I think it's very creamy and even better for freshness,' he said.
He offers these local fish — snappers, horse mackerel, trevally and the like — as a complimentary surprise for regulars. He remarked that Japanese diners are more appreciative of this service because of its uniqueness and the effort and skill required. Singaporean diners, on the other hand, need some persuasion. 'So what I want for the coming decade is just continuing to supply the local fish as much as I could. And also, that could be the uniqueness for my restaurant, because nobody serves the Singaporean fish with the shinkejime method,' he explained.
Another evolution at Ashino is a structural change to his menu. Inspired by a recent experience at the vaunted Sushi Sho in New York City, Ashino now offers a hybrid experience: A short omakase followed by an okonomi (a la carte) menu. '[Sushi Sho owner] Keiji Nakazawa is the one who created omakase about 40 years ago. But now he feels that younger chefs simply rely on the omakase menu. Omakase, you just serve, that's all. Okonomi menu requires skill.'
An okonomi menu, he continued, calls for adaptability. It means cooking dishes or making sushi on the fly, without the predictability of the omakase format. In turn, the experience is more personal for the diner.
Today, Ashino continues to draw on the clarity that set him on the Shikoku Henro all those years ago. His deep belief in the interconnectedness of all life isn't something he talks about openly, but is instead channelled to the thoughtful, exacting food he serves.