Some Guests Flinch at Tuna Noten. Sheila’s Eyes Lit Up. Here’s Why. - Private Sushi Making Class in Tokyo | Tokyo Omakase Sushi Class®

The dialogue

Some Guests Flinch at Tuna Noten. Sheila’s Eyes Lit Up. Here’s Why.

Searching for a sushi class in Tokyo can feel strangely difficult. Type “sushi making class Tokyo” into Google and you’ll find dozens of options, each with glowing photos, five-star ratings, and nearly identical descriptions. They all promise fresh fish, a friendly instructor, and an authentic experience. So how are you supposed to choose?

Why choosing a sushi class is harder than it looks

If your head is spinning after an evening of comparing listings, you’re not alone. The problem isn’t a lack of information. It’s that the information doesn’t tell you what you actually want to know: Will this class fit us? Will the instructor notice what we’re curious about, or will we follow the same script as the twenty people who came before us? Will we leave with a story worth telling, or just a few photos of rolls that look like everyone else’s?

Most of us only get one or two chances at a trip like this. It’s natural to want to choose well, and to worry about the regret of choosing wrong.

 

The answer: a sushi class built around dialogue

Here is the one criterion I’d suggest: choose a class where the host is genuinely talking with you, not at you.

At Tokyo Omakase Sushi Class, every class is private, and the whole experience is shaped by conversation. I call this approach Dialogue. The technique matters, of course, but what turns a cooking lesson into a memory is the exchange between people: the questions you ask, the stories that come out over the cutting board, the moment a guest says, “Wait, tell me more about that.”

A class built on dialogue can adapt to you. A class built on a script can’t.

What this means for you: tell me what you love, or ask for a surprise

Because the class is private, you can tell me your favorite sushi toppings in advance, and I’ll prepare them for your class.

And if you’re feeling adventurous, just say so. Tell me you’d enjoy anything at all, and I’ll look for something a little out of the ordinary: a less common cut you may not have come across before.

That is exactly how my class with Sheila and Aaron became one of my favorite stories.

 

What Sheila and Aaron wrote after the class

Got to learn the whole process of sushi making from the market to the filleting to the rice making ! Kenji was very knowledgeable and helpful in teaching us all the basics !

— Sheila

Highly recommend Kenji’s sushi class! He takes you through the fish market and will teach you a lot about sushi. You get to eat a lot at the end too!

— Aaron

The story behind it: a brain researcher meets tuna noten

Before any guest arrives, about 90 percent of the preparation for the day is already done. That includes the fish. Each topping is chosen, prepared, and waiting before the class begins, so that our time together can go to learning and conversation.

For Sheila and Aaron’s class, I had prepared something special without checking with them first: tuna noten.

Noten (脳天) literally means “the top of the head.” It is the meat from the crown of a tuna’s head. Despite the name, it is not the brain itself but a small, richly marbled muscle, prized for its tenderness. Because each tuna yields only a little, noten rarely appears at fish counters, and I can’t buy it whenever I want. When I find it, I take it.

I’ll be honest: serving it is a small gamble. When some guests hear the words “tuna head” or “brain,” their faces fall, and they’d rather not try it. So I never quite know how it will land.

I make a point of not asking guests about their jobs. People are on holiday, and I’d rather not pull them back into their working lives. So I had no idea that Sheila is a scientific researcher who studies brain function for a pharmaceutical company, and that part of her work involves bringing fish into the lab to observe how their brains work.

You can imagine what happened when I introduced the noten.

Where another guest might have hesitated, Sheila lit up. This was a part of the fish she knew from an entirely different angle, and now it was on her cutting board, ready to become sushi. Her professional curiosity took over, and the conversation went somewhere no script could have planned.

One topping, a whole new side of a guest

This is what I love most about teaching sushi. A single topping can bring out a side of a guest I would never have seen otherwise. Sheila’s career, her curiosity, the way she looks at the world: all of it came to the surface because of one rare cut of tuna.

Sushi has a way of connecting people whose careers, backgrounds, and nationalities could not be more different. A sushi teacher in Tokyo and a brain researcher found something to talk about with real enthusiasm, over a piece of fish.

That is why I hope every guest gets to enjoy a moment of Dialogue in my class. The skills you learn will come home with you. The conversations are what you’ll remember.

 

A private sushi class for two

If you’d like to experience a class like Sheila and Aaron’s, here are the details:

  • Format: Completely private. Only your group, one class per day.
  • Duration: About 3.5 hours, starting with a walk through Tsukiji Outer Market and continuing with a hands-on class in my kitchen studio in Iriya.
  • Price: ¥60,000 for two people.
  • Toppings: Tell me your favorites in advance, or tell me you’re adventurous and let me surprise you.

Coming with family or friends? The class can also be arranged for larger groups. Details are on the Sushi Class page.

You don’t need to pay anything to ask

Sending an inquiry is free, and there’s no need to make any payment right away. Ask your questions, check your dates, and decide only when you’re ready.

Tell me what kind of class you’d like

Please feel free to reach out through the Contact page. Tell me when you’ll be in Tokyo, who’s coming, and what kind of class you’re imagining. Your favorite fish, the things you’re curious about, or simply “surprise us.” I’d love to hear from you.

— Kenji Kitabayashi