32 The rising of Edomae sushi(1)
Have you heard of “Edomae sushi”?
I don’t think so.
Maybe you’ve heard of omakase, or tried “authentic sushi in Tokyo.”
Maybe you know the difference between nigiri and sashimi,
or you can name your favorite tuna cut.
But Edomae?
For most of my guests—even serious food lovers from the US—
that word is completely new.
So… what is Edomae sushi?
If we stopped a hundred people on the streets of Los Angeles or New York and asked,
“Have you ever had Champagne?”
most of them would say yes.
If we asked the same people,
“Have you ever had Edomae sushi?”
almost no one would even know what we’re talking about.
And yet, in the world of sushi,
Edomae is meant to be something like that level of name:
- a word that points to a place,
- a history,
- and a particular way of making things.
Not just “good sushi,”
but sushi with a passport.
To understand it, we have to go back in time.
Before Tokyo was called Tokyo,
it was called Edo.
Edo was a real, physical place:
a castle (where the Imperial Palace stands now)
and the city that grew around it.
In front of that castle—literally below its stone walls—
a long inlet of sea reached inland.
This inner part of what we now call Tokyo Bay
was the city’s front yard of water.
People at the time called it:
江戸前（Edomae） — “the waters in front of Edo.”