A Call from an Unknown Number

Hello everyone! This is Sushi Hatake, a private sushi chef based in Tokyo.

This happened at the end of last year.

One morning, I got a call from an unknown number.

It was a woman from a catering company.

“We have an event the day after tomorrow, but we’re short on sushi chefs. Can you help us out?”

As I listened, I started to think this could be interesting.

This feels like a gig-work app. Kind of fun, I thought.

I was also curious to see how other sushi chefs worked outside of my regular restaurant. Plus, the pay wasn’t bad.

The job: 800 pieces of sushi, 4-person team. That’s 200 pieces each. Sounded pretty easy. I casually agreed to join.

The Morning Of: Things Change

But on the morning of the event, just as I was starting my prep work, I got a message.

“We’re very sorry, but we couldn’t secure the full team of 4 people today. Thank you for your understanding.”

…Wait, that’s not what we agreed on.

I assumed it was now a 3-person job and proposed a higher rate. They came back with a slightly lower number.

Then I found out: it wasn’t 3 people. It was 2.

From 4 to 2. That’s half the team.

I told them I needed double the original rate. They said, “That amount won’t get approved internally.”

So I sent a message declining the job.

Direct Negotiation

Then they called me directly.

We negotiated over the phone.

The result: I got the amount I asked for.

When I did the math later, I was making about lunch money per piece. The pay was good. Really good, actually.

But this job made me think deeply about what sushi really means.

When I Arrived, the Sushi Was Already Done

I got to the venue and saw something I didn’t expect.

Completed sushi was already lined up in trays.

Not just shari (rice balls). Finished sushi with toppings already on.

Turns out, the catering company always orders from a separate sushi supplier. And since they weren’t sure if any chefs would show up, a woman who was “still learning to make sushi” had prepared over 700 pieces in advance.

So what was my job?

“Just Pretend to Make Sushi”

That’s what she told me.

“Just pretend to make the sushi.”

Here’s how it worked:

Put about 10 shari balls in a large bowl. Cover it with a cloth so customers can’t see inside. I take a shari ball out, pretend I just made it, and place the tuna on top.

By the way, those shari balls? Made with plastic molds. Not hand-pressed.

I call this “The Phantom Nigiri” in my head.

One touch and it’s done. No, not even one touch — I wasn’t even making sushi.

She Did Nothing Wrong

The woman kept apologizing to me.

“I’m so sorry,” she said over and over.

She was doing her best. She even offered, “If you want, I can break apart the shari so you can reshape them yourself.”

She wasn’t the problem. She was doing everything she could in a difficult situation. Preparing over 700 pieces by herself must have been exhausting.

The real problem was the system that created this situation.

A Day of Disasters

Apparently, this was one of the worst days they’d ever had.

It was a year-end party for a major listed company. Start time: 6:30 PM.

But the catering food and equipment didn’t arrive until 7:00 PM. Over 30 minutes late.

The only thing ready by 6:30? The sushi. Because it came from a different company, it wasn’t affected by the catering delays.

So the hungry guests rushed the sushi station.

Everything was gone in 30 minutes.

My actual working time: about 30 minutes.

After I finished, I waited another hour and a half just to get paid.

While I was standing in the corner waiting, a staff member came up to me.

“Why are you still here? The sushi chefs usually leave right away.”

…Because I haven’t been paid yet.

I explained the situation and kept waiting.

Why was the cash so late? Apparently, they made some kind of mistake. The catering was delayed. My payment was delayed. Everything was delayed that day.

The Uniform Problem

That day, I had been doing prep work at my regular sushi restaurant since 9 AM.

The catering company told me, “We’ll provide the uniform.” So I came in my work clothes, wearing my usual hat.

But when I arrived…

“The uniforms didn’t come. Can you take off your hat and just work in what you’re wearing?”

My prep clothes? They’re basically work wear. Not something you’d wear in front of guests.

But here’s where my crisis management skills kicked in.

I always keep hair wax stashed in my bag — just in case.

I ran to the bathroom, took off my hat, styled my hair as best I could, and walked into the venue in my casual clothes.

Honestly, I was embarrassed.

I couldn’t even make eye contact with the guests. There I was, some random guy in street clothes, pretending to make sushi by placing tuna on rice. I kept thinking, “What am I even doing here?”

A Strange Coincidence

Here’s a funny twist.

This same company — the one hosting the year-end party — had hired my regular sushi restaurant last year. Same venue. Same event.

So last year, I was there as a chef from that restaurant. This year, I was there as a catering temp.

Last year, I actually made sushi. This year, I just placed tuna. Last year, I had a proper uniform. This year, street clothes.

What are the odds?

The Pay Was Good. But It Felt Empty.

I’ll be honest.

The pay was great. If you calculate the hourly rate, it’s an insane number. Go ahead, try to figure it out.

But on the way home, I felt this strange emptiness.

It wasn’t about money.

As a craftsman, I had nothing to show for it. I didn’t use any of my skills. I had zero sense of “I made sushi today.”

They Were Gentlemen

But I want to make one thing clear.

When I finally got paid, a senior-looking manager brought the cash himself. “I’m sorry. I’m really, truly sorry,” he said.

The woman, the staff — everyone kept apologizing. I want you to know how respectful and sincere they were.

Despite the delays, despite the missing uniforms, they still tried to make sure the sushi could be served — even if it meant faking the process. They were doing their best in a tough spot.

The result? If I’m being blunt, it was a disaster. But I could feel how hard they were trying. Their stress was painfully obvious.

Still, this is business. Results are what matter.

Customers don’t care about your process.

Put Some Respect on Sushi

…That’s what I thought to myself.

Sushi isn’t just placing fish on rice.

You prepare the shari. You press it with your hands. You match it with the right topping. You finish it in front of the customer. That whole process — that’s what makes it nigiri-zushi.

Plastic-molded rice balls, hidden under a cloth, with a chef pretending to make sushi?

Can you really call that “private sushi catering”?

That’s Why Sushi Hatake Makes It in Front of You

This experience confirmed what I already believed.

Sushi has value because it’s made right in front of you.

At Sushi Hatake, I always make the sushi from scratch on-site.

No pre-made sushi. No plastic molds.

I press the rice by hand, pair it with the topping, and finish it while you watch. That experience is what private sushi catering should be.

And yes, I always bring a proper uniform.

Not the phantom nigiri — the real thing.

That’s my promise.

Looking for Authentic Private Sushi Catering in Tokyo?

If you’re looking for private sushi catering or a hands-on sushi experience in Tokyo, leave it to Sushi Hatake!

Enjoy authentic Edomae sushi at your home or event venue.

Not “just placing tuna” — real, handcrafted nigiri.

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