When I first started telling people that I was planning on traveling to Tokyo many years ago, they’d ask “Are you going to Jiro’s?” There was almost always that look of disbelief when I mentioned that I was thinking about it, but also considering other options. I had done quite a bit of research on the subject and I had come up with varying results. Upon the realization that I would be paying around 30,000 yen at Sukiyabashi Jiro to have a mere twenty minute experience I started to read up on the other darlings of the Tokyo sushi scene. I know it’s supposed to be incredible sushi, but I wanted more. Instead, I was pleasantly surprised to find Sushisho Masa, run by Chef Masakatsu Oka who had apprenticed at the original Sushisho years before and was known for his unique preparations.

Fast forward to our six o’clock reservation months later after my companion and I had arrived via taxi through the pouring rain. We were led down a set of narrow steps to find a charming and intimate Japanese-style room with only seven seats, all facing the chef’s counter. Upon being greeted by Chef Masakatsu Oka and two of his apprentices we bowed and took our seats. We were asked if we would like a drink, to which we replied “Omakase onegaishimasu,” which roughly translates to “chef, we entrust this to you [to decide for us]” and next thing we know, out comes some sake. Not just any sake, of course. They informed us that it was a fruit sake that comes from the Bizen prefecture and it proves to be the perfect accompaniment to our sushi feast.

One of the first things I noticed is that Chef Masakatsu Oka is relatively young, and a few courses in revealed that he is not afraid to mix things up. We were served a couple different styles of the same fish, one in particular that he referred to as “barbecue.” This might sound a little questionable, but I assure you it was executed perfectly. I should tell you now that by the end of the meal I had consumed over thirty-five pieces of sushi—some of which he used different parts of the fish to create an entirely unique taste.

There was silence as we collectively watched him prepare each course from our front-row seats. So much care and precision was taken that it was as though we waited on bated breath to see his creations. The way he dipped his fingers into the nikuri (a sort of sweeter soy sauce used primarily for sushi) before gingerly handling the slices of fish and forming it against the rice in quick but graceful movements was akin to watching a well-rehearsed dance.

Out came monkfish, various hand crabs, three different preparations of salmon, and squid. As each piece was placed before us, either Chef or one of his apprentices would bring over a gigantic book full of all the information you could ever need on anything that comes from the waters surrounding Japan. They told us in loose English—still very much appreciated as I was still struggling to communicate my thoughts in Japanese—the type of fish and its Japanese name.

There was a revelation when my companion and I consumed the wild octopus course. Upon dropping it in our open mouths we turned to each other with wide eyes and that shared thought of holy shit. It was like no octopus I had ever tasted. It was creamy, supremely flavourful, and so very tender. Chef Masakatsu Oka watched us grin from ear to ear like toddlers having tasted ice cream for the first time. He smiled as though he knew exactly what we were feeling. Of course he knew. After I sang a chorus of praises in Japanese, he smiled and took a jar that was seemingly hidden away, setting it before us in a sort of triumph. He explained to us that the pristine uni (sea urchins) all nestled together in the jar were caught just earlier that day. He then proceeded to empty several of them into a tiny ceramic bowl, adding his own touch before setting it before us to consume in delight.

Chef reached into the glass-covered wooden chill box that holds all his prized specimens and very gently removed one long sea creature that I didn’t recognize until it was right in front of me. In one swift movement he slapped the abalone onto the counter with concentrated force. I stared in mild shock as I watched it wriggle before me. I must have let out a noise of some sort because I saw Chef look up with a glint in his eye as he declared, “He was sleeping, so I woke him up” right before he ran it through with his blade. It had only just stopped moving before he set it on the serving tray for the guest beside us to devour.

Then there was the akami (lean tuna). Ah, such brilliant ruby red in color, gleaming like a gem. How can one resist? Next up we were presented with toro, chutoro, and finally, the grandaddy of them all: otoro. It’s the fattiest cut taken from the underside of the tuna belly and the most prized of all. The way Masakatsu-san’s knife obeyed his every command was mesmerizing; you could actually hear the sound of the Japanese steel slicing through the fish as though it was only air.

Thinly sliced scallops, mackerel, and raw shrimp that tasted slightly sweet was soon followed by both sea eel and freshwater eel. At this point I started to feel like my stomach had become an aquarium for all the fish I had consumed but I was determined to see this through. Chef noticed my expression and put up his palm, meaning “five more,” to which I emphatically nodded in a polite, “bring it on” sort of way. I wasn’t about to quit just then. I wryly associated the feeling to when Daenerys Targaryen had to consume an entire horse heart in front of the Dothrakis without throwing it all up, in order to prove that she was one of the tribe.

I knew everyone was watching me but I didn’t care—I was committed. I stared down each piece of fish that he set before me, willing my stomach to make room for one more. And another. Then another. One more course and we were onto the finale. I can do this, I told myself with every piece thereafter that entered my mouth. Although, he cheated with the three-piece maki roll—but it was full of minced otoro and uni, so of course I quickly forgave him. Lastly, the tamagoyaki, a Japanese rolled omelette. They say you can judge the skills of a sushi chef by their tamagoyaki; devouring it only affirmed what I already knew about Chef Masakatsu Oka. The apprentice and Chef wore giant matching grins as I sat up triumphantly, stuffed to the gills with the best sushi of my life.

Sushisho Masa.    4-1-15 Nishiazabu | B1F Seven Nishiazabu, Minato 106-0031, Tokyo Prefecture,  Japan.