THE DAWN OF SEXUAL INTERCOURSE

t’s 5:15 A.M. in central Tokyo, still dark outside, and I’m standing at the gates of Tsukiji. I’ve traveled thousands of miles to get here. Tsukiji is the largest fish market in the world. It’s also a veritable Sorbonne of seafood, a foodie mecca where the ocean’s secrets reveal themselves. Every day about 2,200 tons of sea creatures, plucked from depths all over the globe, are sold here—$5 billion worth over the course of a year. If it comes from the sea and can be eaten, you will find it in Tsukiji. The only place to get it fresher is on the boat when the fishermen pull it in.

My guide is Lloyd Nakano. Lloyd runs the swanky Seiyo Ginza hotel a few blocks away and is an expert on and a regular customer of Tsukiji. He’s about 50, and he’s constantly smiling. He has the gait of a man who could drink you under the table before he goes out drinking. With Lloyd leading the way, we head into the jonai shijo—the “inner market.”

“Get your ass moving!” he yells in English. “Don’t give me any shit about being jet-lagged. There’s a mean old bastard

with a sword waiting for you.” Inside, the market looks like a series of airplane hangars. Some 65,000 people work here. Men are carving fish with samTHE TSUKIJI MARKET IN DOWNTOWN TOKYO. ON SALE: EEL, CLAM, urai swords, stopping to light SQUID, SEA CUCUMBER, SEA PINEAPPLE, SEA URCHIN, ETC. another Marlboro or knock back a shot of sake. Hundreds of forklifts are moving at top speed. Eels jump out of barrels. Snapping turtles hiss. I see clams and oysters so large they look as if they’ve been created in a secret laboratory by the Willy Wonka of seafood. Dozens of the deadly fugu fish, whose liver can paralyze or kill an eater if not perfectly prepared by a chef, swim inside a tank, eyeing me insidiously. Animals so bizarre they require comparison to other foods (sea cucumber, sea pineapple) await the cleaver. A few stalls down a chain-smoking teenager tends to a pile of blood-red whale meat. We walk through a room the size of a high school gymnasium where bluefin tuna lie arranged in rows. The size of each is staggering; most are four to five feet in length, and some are as large as eight. Their tails have been severed and shoved into their mouths. Another cut six inches above the tail reveals the meat, which is examined for color, texture, fat and oil content. From this incision the men who will bid

FISH SAUCE

Some refer to sake as rice wine, but it’s actually closer to beer because it’s brewed from grain. Hot sake is always made with the cheap stuff, while finer bottles are served chilled or at room temperature. Here are four categories every swiller should know about. —Scott Alexander

J U N M A I • S A K E

Junmai tends to be earthy and rustic. Think of it as a rambunctious red wine, and pair it with rich, fl avorful, even spicy dishes and grilled food. When drinking junmai, we’re fans of Tentaka Kuni (Hawk in the Heavens) with its strong backbone and hints of cherry and strawberry. J U N M A I • G I N J O

Junmai ginjo is more floral, even tropical at times. With its subtle fl avors it tends to work best with lighter foods such as fish and salad. Try Yuki No Bosha for its earthy, mushroom fl avor up front backed by a mellow, well- rounded fi nish with a playful sweetness and notes of honeydew. N I G O R I • S A K E

Nigori is a different animal from the other types of sake listed here. It’s unfi ltered, which gives it a cloudy appearance and a far sweeter flavor. It complements spicy foods such as curries and also works after dessert. Ohyama (Big Mountain) is on the dry side for a nigori and has a cool hint of effervescence. J U N M A I • D A I G I N J O

Junmai daiginjo is the most refi ned and delicate of the sake family. It’s made from rice with 50 percent of its mass polished away; just the heart of the grain is used. Masumi Yumedono (Mansion of Dreams) is almost supernaturally well- balanced, with accents of acidity that perfectly cut and defi ne its ethereal sweetness. 73