SUSHI ROKUSHIKI: The Final Curtain Call
As I slowly savored each piece created by Yuri Inoue, I found her words and stories every bit as compelling as her sushi.
The creations emerging from behind the counter naturally held my attention. Yet equally captivating was Yuri’s sincere and unwavering devotion to her craft.
“There were times when I wondered whether I could really do this.”
For generations, the world of sushi has been viewed as a male-dominated profession. Yuri admits that she hesitated and nearly walked away more than once.
In sushi, preparation is everything. Guests may catch glimpses of the work involved, but when Yuri first entered the profession, its demands pushed her close to breaking point—both physically and emotionally.
She would give everything she had to her guests late into the night. Then, exhausted from the previous evening, she would rise early the next morning to begin preparing for another service.
There was even a morning when the tears simply would not stop.
“I still have doubts and anxieties. But with the support of so many people, I am able to stand behind this counter today.”
Determination alone could not overcome the physical toll of the work. What made the difference was finding a supervisor who understood her circumstances and colleagues who stood beside her.
Their support helped Yuri become the chef she is today.
Now, Yuri thinks about the women who may follow the path she has chosen.
When she was a student, several of her female classmates also hoped to become sushi chefs. Like Yuri, they had chosen to enter a profession long dominated by men.
More women will undoubtedly follow.
With them in mind, Yuri is searching for a new and more sustainable way forward—a way for people to continue doing the work they love, while moving through life with purpose, both as women and as individuals.
“What would you like next?”
“A gyuto.”
Beautiful tools are often described as extensions of a chef’s soul.
The knife pictured here is a medium-sized santoku with a substantial ebony handle. Yuri, however, already knows which knife she wants as her next partner: a gyuto.
“What would you like to try someday?”
“To be an okami—a traditional restaurant hostess—for a day.”
Yuri’s answers continue to surprise me.
That, too, is part of her charm. She is not defined by her ability to prepare sushi alone.
Before leaving, I ordered something to take home: Sushi Rokushiki’s signature thick tamagoyaki.
“Thank you very much for joining us today.”
The tamagoyaki had been prepared by one of Yuri’s fellow chefs.
As she handed it to me, the tension in the room seemed to lift. Yuri’s expression softened into a gentle smile—a striking contrast to the intense gaze she had worn while working behind the counter.
It was a quiet and beautiful final moment.
Sushi Rokushiki.
Even the final curtain call was beautiful.
Poised, I fall.
Listening, I recall.
A blade through it all.
The final curtain call.
