I photographed Jiro — of Jiro Dreams of Sushi — and his son back before they had their Michelin stars, way back before they were mythologized by international documentary.
Lucked into the shoot. Was a know-nothing guy: Went knowing nothing. Knew nothing about sushi. Jiro who? Certainly didn’t know anything about food or fish quality, nor how to assess it.
Carried a clunky D70 and a 50mm f1.8 lens. (That became a 75mm lens on the DX sensor’d D70 body.)
Arrived, had a private lunch. Gratis. Jiro served. He was a delight. Stern, but delightful. Patient and jolly. Chatting the whole time. Going into great detail about rice temperature and fish procession. A food critic — Masuhiro Yamamoto, Jiro’s main point of foreign-press interaction — sat alongside giving an extended play-by-play.
I have to confess: I may have eaten curry or a burger right before. Stuffed by belly and ruined my palate. Wouldn’t surprise me now. (Like I said, a Know Nothing Guy.)
Jiro served, pontificated. I ate. Thought: Hmm, not bad, Jiro. Not bad at all. Couldn’t predict or intuit a Michelin star if it hit me in the face.
