Chefs Are Putting New Accents on Sushi

The challenge dates to the early 1990s, when a fascination with Japanese culture and a trend toward more healthful diets created a nationwide sushi craze, said Trevor Corson, author of a soon-to-be released narrative of sushi's evolution, "The Zen of Fish."

In 1995, there were a little more than 4,000 Japanese restaurants in the United States, according to Japanese Restaurant News, an industry monthly. By 2006, there were more than 9,000. At least 100 are in the Washington area.

Given the size and diversity of the region's foreign-born population, it is perhaps not surprising that Japanese restaurateurs have turned to other immigrants to help feed their customers. After all, the Washington area is a place where Korean grocers employ Salvadorans to stock their shelves and Indian doctors advertise their services in Spanish-language newspapers.

Still, the purists are out there.

"I tell people that we are not serving Japanese food. We are serving Japanese culture," said Yoshi Itoh, owner of Makoto in upper Northwest, one of the area's most traditional Japanese restaurants.

To Itoh, the thought of schooling a foreigner in the art of Japanese cuisine elicits a shudder.

"They just want to learn the skills; they want to take short cuts," said Itoh, a soft-spoken man of 62.

Itoh said he would not even consider teaching someone to prepare sushi until the student had spent at least four years mastering the intricacies of the centuries-old Japanese tea ceremony -- whose manners and aesthetic lie at the heart of all Japanese cooking. As for the sushi instruction itself, that requires at least four more years, Itoh said.

Once, Itoh said, he attempted to put a prospective chef from China through this training regimen. "It was not a success," he said dryly.

The Japanese Agriculture Ministry shares his concerns. Last fall, it announced plans to halt the "corruption" of Japanese cuisine by creating a certification system for overseas restaurants that claim to serve sushi and other Japanese food.

Fortunately, Itoh's restaurant is a tiny shoebox of a place that can survive with just two chefs -- himself and another Japanese man -- who would easily pass muster with the sushi police.

Owners of more than a dozen larger local sushi bars said they do not have that luxury. They have had to find ways to incorporate non-Japanese chefs at their counters without compromising the high standards of their trade.