Edomae

Edomae means "in front of Edo" — the waters of Tokyo Bay. For most of the city's history that bay was the larder: gizzard shad, conger eel, prawn, clam, squid, sea bream.

Before the 1820s, sushi in Japan meant fermented or pressed fish, usually made over days. Then a man remembered as Hanaya Yohei began pressing a slice of prepared fish onto a hand-shaped block of vinegared rice and selling it immediately, from a stall, to workers who ate it standing.

The original pieces were roughly two to three times the size of a modern one. This was a snack you ate with your fingers between jobs, not an evening.

The techniques are the tradition

There was no refrigeration. So Edomae sushi is a catalogue of ways to make fish keep and taste better at the same time — and a proper counter still uses all of them.

Shime — curing in salt and then vinegar, which is what happens to kohada, the gizzard shad that is the traditional benchmark of a chef's skill. Zuke — marinating tuna in soy. Nimono — simmering, which is what conger eel and clam receive. Kobujime — pressing white fish between sheets of kelp to draw water out and umami in.

None of these are compromises for lost freshness. They are the point. A chef who serves you kohada is showing you a specific, difficult, unglamorous skill, which is why it is often served early.

How it spread

The 1923 earthquake destroyed the city and scattered its sushi chefs across Japan. They took nigiri with them. What had been an Edo street snack became the national — and then international — form.

And the market moved

The wholesale market at Tsukiji, opened in 1935 after the earthquake destroyed its predecessor at Nihonbashi, relocated to Toyosu in October 2018 — a purpose-built, climate-controlled complex roughly twice the size.

The famous tuna auction still happens at Toyosu and can be watched: from an upper observation window without a booking, or from a lower deck close to the floor for which slots are allocated in advance by ballot. It starts around 5:30 in the morning, which for a cruise passenger usually means it is not happening.

The Tsukiji Outer Market — the streets of knife shops, tamagoyaki stands, dried fish, and small sushi counters — never moved and is open to anyone. That is the one that fits a port day.