The Art of the Counter

You don't need to know any of this to enjoy an omakase. But a few small customs make the night flow better — and the chef notices when you know them. None of it is a test. Think of it as learning the rhythm of a song you already like.

Let the chef lead

The whole idea of omakase is that you've handed the menu over. Don't ask what's next; let each piece arrive as a small surprise. If there's something you genuinely can't eat, say so warmly at the very start — the chef would much rather know now than watch it sit.

Eat nigiri the moment it lands

A piece of nigiri is built to be eaten within seconds — the rice still loose and just-warm, the fish at its peak. This is the one place where waiting is the rude thing. Pick it up, eat it whole, and let the chef see your face. Fingers are perfectly acceptable for nigiri; chopsticks are for sashimi.

Gari is a reset, not a side

The pickled ginger between pieces is there to clear the palate, not to pile on top. A small bite resets your mouth so the next fish arrives clean.

Go easy on the soy

If the chef has already seasoned a piece — a brush of nikiri, a pinch of salt, a squeeze of yuzu — it needs nothing from you. When you do dip, touch the fish to the soy, never the rice, which falls apart and over-salts.

Say the two words that matter

Itadakimasu before you begin — roughly, “I gratefully receive.” Gochisousama at the end — “thank you for the feast.” And to the person across the counter from you, the only toast that counts: kanpai.

Mostly, though: relax. The chef has done the hard part. お任せ.