I Dream of Sushi

For months Netflix has been silently urging me to watch Jiro Dreams of Sushi. More recently, actual humans urged me to watch it. Last week, I finally relented.

Oh, my friends, it was so worth it. This film balances at the precarious precipice between beautiful decadence and extreme austerity, as it follows the day-to-day happenings in the life of 85-year old Jiro Ono, the world's greatest sushi master.

Jiro's domain is a tiny 10-seat restaurant in a dingy Tokyo subway station. This little gem, despite its somewhat bleak surroundings, is a 3-star Michelin restaurant where the starting price for a single dinner is $300. The restaurant is his life, and it is clear that making delicious sushi is his raison d'être.

But it is not the delicious sushi itself that is Jiro's greatest motivation; to Jiro, making excellent food is tantamount to living honorably.

Once you decide on your occupation... you must immerse yourself in your work. You have to fall in love with your work. Never complain about your job. You must dedicate your life to mastering your skill. That's the secret of success... and is the key to being regarded honorably.

I have long believed in the value of choosing one thing to do in life, and doing it extremely well. Honing your craft, developing your skill, and not letting go no matter what. When Jiro hires a young man to be an apprentice in his restaurant, this means the young man gets to make precisely one dish over and over and over again. He is not to touch anything else in the kitchen until he has perfected his one dish, and this might take 10 years. What emerges, is a master of the craft. It's a beautiful thing.

Jiro's son Yoshikazu works for him, and has been groomed to take over the business after his father's death. To see the interactions between the two of them is really remarkable, one first observes that the deference with which he treats is father is dramatically un-America. One also observes that there is a very well defined hierarchical structure, which means that Jiro and Yoshikazu share in a common quest for perfections, but inhabiting very classical student and master roles. Yoshikazu is a worthy pupil.

Always look ahead and above yourself. Always try to improve on yourself. Always strive to elevate your craft. That's what he taught me.

To hear Jiro reflect on his life's work, past, present, and future, you get the sense that you are listening to a young man in the prime of his life. His is as engaged in his quest for perfection and honor as he ever was. Of course this can be a bit frustrating to the viewer, since we're made to believe that eventually be round some corner in life where we get to stop trying so hard (PhD? Tenure? Full-Professor? Retirement?). But maybe he's got the right idea, since more and more studies show that high brain activity reduces the risk of alzheimers.

All things in moderation, Jiro. All things in moderation.

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