Sushi Masters

Photos by Michael Piazza

Two Chefs Prove Local Seafood is at the Heart of Authentic Japanese Cuisine in Massachusetts

Deftly slicing through the fluke’s raw flesh with a blade as long as his forearm, Chef Youji Iwakura of Washoku Renaissance in Charlestown looks like an artist creating a painting. Leaning over the prep table inside his small open kitchen to be as close to his work as possible, the Japanese chef meticulously molds a roughly 12-gram handful of seasoned sticky rice with his bare hands, lays the sliver of fish atop it and lightly paints it with soy sauce and a dollop of freshly grated wasabi before transfering the sushi morsel to his customer’s plate.

Centuries of tradition, decades of individual practice and layers of local flavor have influenced this one delectably artistic bite. And it could be as authentic a Japanese sushi experience as it gets in New England. This is what Iwakura—who came to Boston when he was 25 and has prepared sushi for more than three decades here—hopes for in his endeavors to return to tradition.

Iwakura’s meal infuses elements of two styles of highend Japanese cuisine, neither of which has a menu: the historically elaborate kaiseki tradition, which is a chef-prescribed ritual of courses depending on seasonal produce and fish. One of kaiseki’s translations is “stones in the bosom,” referring to the warm stones that Zen monks would stow in their robes close to their bellies to ward off hunger. Meanwhile, the more modern and fluid omakase style translates to “leave it to you,” where the chef determines the courses and the order in which they’re served, and can change direction midway based on the diner’s reaction.

“I am taking a more traditional culinary culture, including kaiseki, to reconcept it in our modern day. I step out of conventional food service and tend to pursue the essential meaning of Japanese food and culture, which not many people understand yet,” Iwakura explains. “My most important thing when I’m cooking, when I’m making sushi, I am 100% focused on what these ingredients can express in the food I make.”

The best way to craft these styles of sushi in New England is to use local fish, which is more sustainable, Iwakura adds. While Japanese sushi customs were established over the centuries by masters using Japanese seafood exclusively, Massachusetts chefs blend traditional methods of preparation with New England species of fish, shellfish and crustaceans. And since Gloucester is the oldest port in the country and serves as the center of the region’s fish industry, with the largest port on the Northeast in nearby New Bedford, chefs here are in a prime spot for this trade.

Iwakura’s 15- to 23-course dinner consists of between 30% and 50% New England fish, including scup, fluke, black sea bass, mackerel and banded rudderfish from Block Island; lobster and toro tuna from Gloucester; New Hampshire steelhead trout and botan ebi prawn from British Columbia, Canada. He marries them to imported species like sea snail, salmon and sea urchin from Hokkaido and Fukuoka, Japan, and yellowfin tuna from origins like Ecuador for their excellence as well as to meet customer expectations of what sushi should be.

Chef Sang Hyun Lee of Sushi Sang Lee in Gloucester equally relishes lobster, scallop, mackerel, monkfish liver and tuna landed on the nearby town docks for his 18-course omakase experience. The South Korean chef, who floated between Boston and New York sushi bars for 23 years, is fastidious with his custom knife and devotion to detail when placing small shreds of local lobster meat atop a warm bowl of custard.

Sushi Sang Lee is the first Edomae-style sushi bar in New England. “My style of sushi is called ‘Edomae’ sushi: Edo is an old name for Tokyo; mae means ‘in front of.’ But more accurately it’s a Gloucester/Edomae sushi. I’m trying to use more local fish and less Japanese fish,” Lee says. “We’d traditionally use Japanese fish, but I’m using Gloucester fish. There are a lot of undiscovered local fish, and underrated local fish, like mackerel. It’s delicious and has layers of flavor.”

He adds that most omakase chefs depend on Japanese fish at least 85%, while he uses only 40%. “I’m trying to reintroduce the most underrated local fish to the local people and change their perspective,” Lee says, while slicing a Gloucester mackerel filet at his eightseat sushi bar. “For example, mackerel and monkfish. For local people, mackerel is a bait fish, monkfish is a trash fish. But there are no trash fish. They don’t know about ankimo (monkfish liver); that is a Japanese delicacy.”

When anago (saltwater eel) and sanma (silverskin pike) arrive from Japan, or his favorite monkfish and mackerel land in Gloucester, Lee relishes exploring new flavors to complement these fish, like vegetables and sauces.

“It’s a lot of fun discovering top-level fish in Gloucester. Local fish makes my menu very special,” Lee says. “Even Japanese sushi chefs in Japan are very curious about the local fish I use.”

Still, Iwakura says it can be hard to get fresh local fish, because global warming is changing fish migration patterns, which impacts availability of trusted local species. Adding complexity is Iwakura’s preference for the ikejime method of fish slaughter, which inserts a spike into the brain rather than suffocating the fish. This is more humane and preserves flavor, Iwakura insists, and though it’s becoming more common globally, it’s still scarce in New England.

“The Japanese relationship with fish is very special. They love fish, not only to eat. When we do, we take the fish’s life into our body, their energy into us. So their soul is also there. That’s what we take into our body right now, so we live longer,” Iwakura explains. “Doing this ikejime process, we don’t want a fish to suffer. When we kill them, we should kill them with respect.”

Sous Chef Oscar Lange, standing alongside Iwakura as the duo skillfully places sujiko (fresh salmon roe) atop a creamy layer of Japanese sea urchin, explains that Japan’s reductive cuisine contradicts America’s additive culture. Traditionally, in Japanese cuisine, “you do not do what you have not been trained to do, and unless you’ve mastered something, you can’t be creative with it,” he says. Whereas here, the idea that “the more the better” gives the appearance of value.

“All that culture and historical context makes this more important for us, rather than the maximist style,” Lange says. “Creative restraint takes more skill.”

The layers of Japanese history and sometimes puzzling translation can deter western diners, these chefs admit. But the meals at these two hot spots are worthy of experimentation, to witness the unique interplay between historic presentations, modern styles and sustainable local seafood that elevate the dinner from meal to experience.

“To me, it’s not about Japanese fish and local fish. Whatever we can get with good traceability, including European farmed salmon, too, I need good traceability, and also great condition,” Iwakura says. “Washoku- style concept, from not only taste but philosophy, to the relationship with the ingredients, especially seafood in this case, and it also represents the culture, to the people who can actually eat it and love it more and more.”

This story appeared in the Winter 2025 issue.