Teaching to the Youngest: A Six-Year-Old’s First Sushi Class in Tokyo
When a family books my sushi class, I make one decision before we even meet: I teach to the youngest guest. I pitch the lesson to their level, and I talk to them more than to anyone else. If the youngest is engaged, the whole family is.
Last Saturday, the youngest guest was Isaac. He was six years old, and he did not eat sushi yet.
A family of six, and one request
Greg and Chelsea came to Tokyo with their four children, ages 6, 9, 11, and 12. A few days before the class, Greg wrote to me. The three older kids loved sushi, he said. Isaac did not eat it yet, but Greg hoped he would enjoy learning about it and making it, and might be more willing to try it afterwards.
I asked what the family liked to eat. Salmon, tuna, crab, scallops, Greg replied. They were not picky. Isaac would probably stick to rice, seaweed, and maybe cucumber.
That was all I needed to plan the day.
It starts at the market
My class begins with a walk of about an hour through Tsukiji Outer Market. For a six-year-old, an hour among adult shoppers can feel long. So during the walk I stay close to the youngest child, point things out to them, and ask them questions. My goal is simple: they should never have time to get bored.
By the time we left the market and headed for the subway to my kitchen studio in Iriya, Isaac was at the front of the group, walking right behind me.
Eight steps, and a big sister
Every nigiri begins with the same eight basic steps. I teach them first, as principles, before anyone worries about speed or looks.
My studio has two worktables. Without anyone telling them to, the four siblings sat down together at one table and got to work side by side. Their oldest sister, who is twelve, picked up the eight steps faster than anyone. Then she turned to her little brother and started helping him.
Isaac had his own method. Each time he finished a piece, he took a fresh ball of rice in his right hand and a slice of fish in his left, and walked over to me to check the eight steps again. The studio is not large, and he kept coming back through the middle of it, ahead of everyone else, with another question.
He was slower than his siblings. But he shaped five pieces of nigiri, every one of them on his own.
Kids learning how to prepare a fish for sushi making
The crab
Because Greg had mentioned crab, I prepared kegani, the horsehair crab from northern Japan. I cracked the shells, and then handed the work over to the children: scooping the sweet meat out of the shell. They loved it.
I looked up and saw Chelsea watching her four children bent over the crab together, with a look of pure affection. That was the moment I knew the class had worked.
No matter how young a guest is, no one gets left behind. That is the rule I hold myself to in every class.
This is how I like to divide the work in a family class. I take the parts that need a sharp knife or real strength. The children get the parts that are hands-on, a little messy, and satisfying to finish.
A cucumber roll
Greg had told me Isaac liked cucumber, so on the way to the studio I picked some up at a supermarket. Near the end of the class, I showed the children how to make kappa maki, a simple cucumber roll. They gathered around and watched closely as the bamboo mat turned rice, seaweed, and cucumber into a neat roll.
What the family took home
Watching the four of them, I could tell that hands-on learning was nothing new in this family. They asked questions, tried things, and helped each other without being asked. I sensed that their parents had always put experience at the center of how they raise their children.
I make a point of not asking guests much about their jobs or their lives back home. A trip to Japan is a break from everyday life, and I do not want my questions to pull anyone back into it.
But guests often choose to tell me who they are, in their own time. As we sat down together to eat the sushi platter we had made, Chelsea mentioned, unprompted, that she and Greg run Young Harvest Farm, an organic farm in Arrington, just outside Nashville, Tennessee. Beyond growing food, they host workshops that help their community learn about food and health. It made perfect sense. This is a family that cares about where food comes from and how it is made.
Moments like this are what I hope to create through dialogue. When people share who they are naturally, without being asked, the conversation becomes a genuine exchange.
After the class, both parents left reviews. Greg wrote:
“We had the best time with Kenji! Highly recommend getting a tour and class with him.”
Guests deboning fish, horse mackerel to prepar
And Chelsea wrote:
“Absolutely a MUST do in Tokyo! Our family of 6 learned so much and had the best time learning and tasting from our host! It was spectacular!”
For parents planning a family class
- Tell me your children’s ages and what they like to eat. I plan the ingredients and the pace around that information. A child who does not eat raw fish yet can still take full part in the class.
- Your youngest child sets the pace. I teach to them first. Older children usually move ahead on their own, and they often end up helping.
- Children do real work. They learn the same steps as the adults, and they get hands-on tasks that are safe for their age.
- Children under seven are welcome by consultation. I used to think seven was the right minimum age. Isaac showed me that a motivated six-year-old can do it. If your youngest is under seven, please write to me first.
- The market walk is part of the lesson. I keep the youngest guests busy from the very first step, so the day does not feel long.
Book a family class
The family class is private: one family per day, in English. It starts with a one-hour walk through Tsukiji Outer Market, then continues at my kitchen studio in Iriya.