Here’s what you get at Sukiyabashi Jiro in Tokyo, if you can get in that is

“It was a perfect day,” posted famous Italian chef Massimo Bottura to his 1.5 million Instagram followers recently, along with a selfie with an elderly Japanese man. Bottura is typically on the receiving end of selfies, but this time it was special.

The man standing alongside Bottura was the 97-year-old legendary Japanese chef Jiro Ono. In 2007, his eponymous restaurant, hidden under an unassuming subway stop in Tokyo’s Ginza district, became the world’s first sushi restaurant to be awarded three Michelin stars.

In 2011, American film director David Gelb made Ono the hero of a documentary titled Jiro Dreams of Sushi, using his inspirational life story to showcase the determination and decades of training that Japanese chefs endure to become sushi masters. And in 2014, Ono served 20 pieces of the freshest nigiri sushi to then US President Barack Obama who was promised ‘the best sushi of his life’ by his host, the then Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe (Obama later said it lived up to its billing).

Ono was born in Japan’s Shizuoka prefecture and legend has it that he started working at a sushi restaurant at the age of seven. He moved to Tokyo to study as a sushi apprentice, working his way up to become a qualified sushi chef. By 1965, Ono had reached the sushi-master classification and opened his first restaurant, the Sukiyabashi Jiro. With just 10 counter seats and an omakase (dishes decided by the chef) menu that changed daily depending on the fresh catch in the morning.

It is nearly impossible to get a reservation at Sukiyabashi Jiro unless you are the US President or a celebrity (David Beckham and Hugh Jackman are regulars). Reservations open months ahead and sell out in seconds. The impossibility of securing a reservation was the official reason cited by the Michelin guide in 2019 when they withdrew their stars.

But that only led to greater demand for the 10 coveted seats and Sukiyabashi Jiro came to be known as the ‘world’s most difficult restaurant reservation’. Wealthy global food enthusiasts wait years for bookings, while others resort to the grey market, buying seats at significant premiums (the official price: 50,000 yen, or around Rs 30,000, per person).

In March this year, after months of trying, I finally got in. An oddly-worded confirmation email hit my inbox before I left for Tokyo, along with a list of peculiar rules. Two of them stood out: (i) no photography is allowed in the restaurant; and (ii) please use perfume and other cosmetics sparingly.

How did I get in? A tiny proportion of seats are reserved for those who are vouched for by a small clique of well-connected concierges at Tokyo’s top hotels, and I was lucky enough to be at the hotel with the best-networked concierge.

The day arrived. I reached the restaurant at 11 am, an hour early. ‘Sorry, we are closed’ read a signboard, but a peephole allowed a view of the team scrubbing the counters inside. At 11:59 am a youthful man dressed in white appeared at the door and gestured that I should approach him. “Name?” he asked. I showed him my confirmation email and he nodded. “You wear perfume?” was the next question. Well, of course, I lied.

I took my seat by the counter at 12:02 pm and was handed the menu for the day. It had precisely 19 courses of nigiri; listing seafood such as Sea Eel, Fatty Tuna, Octopus, Mackerel, Baby Scallops, Needlefish, Squid and my personal favourite Uni (Sea Urchin). Sadly, Jiro Ono was not present in the restaurant; one of the English-speaking chefs explained that because of his poor health, he only visits the restaurant intermittently. His eldest son, Yoshikazu Ono, a 64-year-old sushi master trained by Ono, has now assumed the responsibility.

Yoshikazu-san served each piece of nigiri to me in quick succession. As soon as the sushi was placed on my plate, he indicated that I should lift it with two fingers and put it in my mouth, without wasting precious seconds, to ensure it would touch my tongue at the perfect temperature. There was no small talk or background music in the restaurant, just delicious, serious food.

At 12:24 pm, I finished my last piece of nigiri and was served a Japanese sweet melon and bitter tea for dessert, while the cashier hurried with the bill. And that was it—22 minutes of the greatest sushi experience of my life.

Was it worth it? Yes, absolutely! Would I go back? No, it was one of those once-in-a-lifetime experiences that are sometimes so perfect that you are scared to go back. But I will remember the meal forever.

@RaajSanghvi