Tai Cuisine

The pleased-as-Punch sumo wrestler has just won a tournament or perhaps been promoted to the champion rank of ozeki. To mark the celebratory occasion, he dons a fine kimono and sups sake copiously from a great bowl. And by way of displaying his extreme satisfaction at the achievement and for the benefit of the poised lenses of the media corps, he beams broadly as he dangles a strapping great fish around in the air.

Just as a sumo champion is no ordinary man, neither is the fish in this situation any ordinary ex-denizen of the deep. It is a sea bream. As might be supposed from the people that gave sushi and sashimi to the world, the Japanese know a thing or two about fish. So when they refer to the sea bream as the "King of Fish," it is clear that this is not just any finny fare.

Since the name of the fish in Japanese, tai, sounds like the final syllable in omedetai, or "congratulations," a whole grilled sea bream is held to be an essential feature at any big celebration. The word "tai" refers generally to all types of sea bream, but it is also used specifically to signify madai (Pagrus major), a hefty fish that is normally 25 to 40 centimeters long, but can reach lengths of a meter. Madai means "true tai," and as well as having a propitious name, it is also a handsome peach color. Red has long been regarded as an auspicious color in Japan, and madai is much in demand for weddings as well as being one of the festive foods at New Year.

In line with these positive associations of this piscine variety, sea bream appears in conjunction with the Seven Deities of Good Fortune. As the name suggests, this is a godly clique that makes it its business to bring a little prosperity and good luck into people's lives. The sea bream is always depicted with Ebisu, the god of fisherfolk and commerce. He usually appears as a cheerful, chubby gent, often with a fishing rod in his right hand. The madai may be hooked at the end of the fishing line, tucked casually under one of his arms or brandished prominently aloft like a weightlifter's barbell.

Madai are plentiful in the Inland Sea and Sea of Japan, but they are comparatively rare on the Pacific side of the country. Of the various areas associated with the fish, one of the best known is Tokushima Prefecture, at the eastern end of the island of Shikoku. Locals there believe their madai to be the best in Japan, but that is also a view shared by more than a few fishy aficionados. Because of the tempestuous currents in the Naruto Strait, separating Shikoku from Awaji-shima island, the madai in these waters have a firmer flesh and more pronounced flavor. The fish is generally regarded as being at its best from March to May, though many locals prefer it from September to December, when they believe it possesses a superior texture.

The firm, white flesh of the madai has a mild flavor. It is enjoyed as sashimi, as grilled fish, and it is served as a main ingredient in the clear, elegant consommé-like soup varieties known as suimono. A popular dish is tai meshi, in which the sea bream is cooked in an earthenware pot along with rice, dashi fish stock, sake and soy sauce.

In spring, the milt and roe find their way into kaiseki ryori—a refined cuisine of dishes so exquisitely presented it seems almost a shame to eat them. The head and meaty collars are salted and grilled over charcoal in a dish called kabuto-yaki—literally, "helmet grilled." The bones and various nooks and crannies of the head envelop the flesh, keeping it moist and tender. A special favorite of madai connoisseurs is the juicy meat just under the eye. Soup stock can be made by cooking vegetables with the internal organs and head. And so, as perfectly befits this king among fish, not a bit of all that regal body goes to waste.