Trevor’s
Sushi-Making Arsenal

The word “sushi” doesn’t refer to raw fish, or to any of the toppings or fillings. It refers to the rice—seasoned with a carefully monitored mixture of rice vinegar, sugar, and salt. As I describe in The Story of Sushi, good sushi chefs often mix different varieties of rice like coffee roasters mixing varieties of bean, to achieve a unique blend. The most favored variety of rice for sushi is called Koshihikari; the starch in the core of the grain is more condensed than other varieties, giving it a firmer and denser texture. This rice also contains aromatic fatty acids that add flavor and moistness.
Note: These are ingredients and items that I’ve tried at home in my kitchen and liked; a few of them are also mentioned in The Story of Sushi. I don’t include general instructions for making sushi here; those you can read about in The Story of Sushi or get from one of the many sushi-making manuals and cookbooks in existence. Here I provide tips that you’re unlikely to find anywhere else.
I have no affiliation with any of the products or websites mentioned below, and I receive no endorsement compensation of any kind by mentioning them. [Full disclosure: After I posted this page, Simply Natural Foods started selling my book.]

Put simply, rice vinegar is sake that has been left to ferment too long, so that it develops a tangy, acidic taste. Combined with sugar and a little salt, it is the key to what makes sushi so tasty. Sushi rice is, in essence, “sweet and sour” rice.


Hangiri is the Japanese term for the type of cypress tub that sushi chefs use to mix their rice with the solution of vinegar, sugar, and salt that gives sushi its characteristic taste. I describe the mixing method in detail in The Story of Sushi.
Tip: You should pour a half-inch of water into the hangiri before use and let it soak, then discard the water; otherwise, the dry wood will absorb too much moisture from the rice.
Trevor’s recommendation: Small, relatively inexpensive hangiri for home use are available from a variety of online retailers. You’ll also want a wooden paddle for mixing called a shamoji.

One of the big surprises I relate in The Story of Sushi is that really serious sushi chefs don’t provide their customers with regular soy sauce, because the pungent flavor of straight soy sauce tends to overwhelm the delicate flavors of raw fish. Instead, they concoct their own “house” sauce called nikiri. It begins with regular soy sauce; then the chef adds a traditional broth called dashi, plus sake and a sweet rice cooking wine called mirin. The chef simmers this mixture briefly before serving. If you eat at a high-end sushi bar and the sauce in your soy-sauce dish is a translucent, light shade of brown, it’s probably nikiri. Pay attention to its complex, subtle taste. (For a great article about nikiri that I helped out with, click here.)
Trevor’s recommendation: If you’re feeling ambitious, you can make nikiri sauce at home. You’ll be astonished at how delicious it is. You’ll need five ingredients:
• soy sauce
• dried kelp (konbu)
• dried bonito fish flakes (hana-katsuo or katsuo-bushi)
• sweet rice wine for cooking (mirin)
• sake




In a pot, mix ten parts soy sauce, two parts dashi, one part mirin. Then throw in one part sake, and simmer the mixture briefly. You’ve made nikiri!

Another big surprise revealed in The Story of Sushi is that 99% of the so-called “wasabi” that sushi lovers encounter is not wasabi at all. Most of that green paste is made simply from ground-up horseradish, augmented by food coloring and other additives. Like regular soy sauce, horseradish simply overwhelms the delicate flavors of most raw fish.

Trevor’s recommendation: The fresh wasabi rhizome itself is hard to acquire and finicky to work with. But a company that I mention in The Story of Sushi called Pacific Farms, located on the Oregon coast, imports frozen wasabi rhizomes, grinds them up, and sells real wasabi paste, still frozen, in tubes.

In addition to nikiri sauce, there are several exotic Japanese condiments that I like to include when making sushi. These condiments add flavors to the sushi experience that are unfamiliar to most Americans, and they’ll set your sushi apart.
Trevor’s recommendations:


• Another condiment that involves the Asian citrus fruit yuzu is yuzu koshou. It’s a greenish mash of yuzu and hot pepper, and is only available from Asian food suppliers; it’s often labeled in English as “citrus puree.” On sushi it should be used sparingly. Instead of wasabi, a tiny dollop of yuzu koshou atop a whitefish nigiri makes for an unusual but heavenly combination of flavors.


In The Story of Sushi I describe the surprising life cycle of nori, which is actually a type of algae, as well as the elaborate process of manufacturing it into paper-like sheets.


In The Story of Sushi I describe how soy sauce was invented as a by-product of making miso, in which soy beans and rice are fermented to create Buddhist vegetarian food as flavorful as meat. If you’ve gone to the trouble of making the kelp and fish-flake broth dashi, as I’ve described above, then by all means treat yourself to some real miso soup.

Then you can add whatever you want to the soup, just don’t let it boil: tofu, vegetables, and seaweed are the usual ingredients. Occasionally I’ve been known to ignore tradition and toss in strips of prosciutto—talk about tasty! As you’ll learn in The Story of Sushi, cured ham and miso are both rich in the flavor component glutamate, which creates the delicious taste the Japanese refer to as umami.
Tip: The Japanese eat miso at the end of the meal, not at the beginning.

The author’s secret ingredients and favorite products for making sushi at home.
All text, photos, videos, and other content on this website that was originally created by Trevor Corson is copyrighted material, © Trevor Corson.
“The Lobster Sex Guy” and “Sushi Concierge” are TradeMarks of Trevor Corson.
TREVOR
CORSON
Bonus: