Would you eat sashimi from a random fishing village in Japan? #japantravel #sashimi #japanesefood
This is an unremarkable little fishing village. Not to mention foreign tourists—even Japanese people probably wouldn’t visit here unless they had a specific reason.
We ended up here completely on a whim. After all, road trips are about driving around, exploring places buses don’t take you, right?
So, while driving through the mountains, we suddenly decided to take a detour and left the main road, arriving at this fishing village called Minamiise Town.
The village was so quiet! It felt as if everyone had been lulled to sleep. It was noon, and when we saw the word “Fresh Fish” on a shop sign, we thought, why not stop for a seafood lunch?
We pushed open the door and saw only some fresh squid and half a fish that had already been cut. Two women ran out from the back, greeting us enthusiastically. I looked skeptically at the lonely half-fish left in the ice bucket and asked them, “Can this be eaten raw?”
They didn’t understand a word I said and, in a flurry of gestures and Japanese, tried to explain something. After a bit of fruitless “communication,” I had no choice but to nod politely, thank them, and prepare to leave. They gestured for me to wait and quickly ran off to fetch an elderly lady from a house a few doors down—apparently their emergency interpreter.
The elderly lady’s English was surprisingly good—better than most Japanese people. It turns out she used to teach English at the village’s elementary school. Though retired now, her skills were still sharp, and today, she’d come out of retirement to help.
Through her, the shopkeepers told us that the fish could indeed be eaten raw and asked if we’d like to try a couple of slices. But I was still hesitant. That bloody half-fish, lying battered on ice in this obscure little village shop—could it really be sliced and eaten as sashimi? I’d been to many seafood markets in Japan, watched fish being auctioned off and eaten raw, and I’d eaten my fair share, too. But in such a remote village, in such a humble shop, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this fish was better off cooked at home.
But they had brought in an interpreter, answered all our questions, and now refusing to eat seemed rude. So, we asked them to slice off a piece and prepare it as sashimi.
Though the way they cut the fish seemed amateurish, they kindly provided soy sauce and wasabi, so we politely stood by the cutting board and tasted it.
Oishii! Truly delicious—melted in our mouths. And when it came time to pay, it was only 500 yen! Practically a gift.
The three women, seeing how much we enjoyed the food, clapped their hands in delight. I knew they weren’t just happy about making 500 yen—they were proud that they’d managed to teach two foreigners the proper way to enjoy sashimi.
The three of them watched with joy as we finished eating, bowed all the way as they saw us out of the shop, and kept waving as we drove away from their village.
Their genuine expressions moved me deeply, a testament to the simple and heartfelt hospitality you find in Japan’s countryside. For two foreign tourists who’d likely never pass through again, they showed the utmost patience and sincerity.
Yet, the question in my mind remains unanswered! Why is it that fresh fish caught in Japan can be eaten raw as sashimi immediately?
I’ve asked several food safety experts and scholars, both domestic and abroad, and spent a lot of time searching online. Most explanations are about deep-sea fishing or refrigeration processes, but they’re all too far-fetched and don’t hold up to scrutiny.
So, we’ve decided: who cares? As long as it’s delicious