Unagi (うなぎ)

I know "eel" makes some people hesitate. Get over it immediately, because unagi is one of the most luxurious, melt-in-your-mouth things you will ever eat. Freshwater eel is butterflied, steamed and grilled over charcoal, and repeatedly brushed with a glossy sweet-savory tare until the outside caramelizes and the inside turns impossibly tender and rich. Laid over a box of rice as unadon or unaju, it's pure indulgence.

There's nothing fishy or slimy about it — properly prepared unagi is smoky, sweet, fatty, and delicate, with crisp glazed edges and flesh so soft it barely needs chewing. It's a special-occasion food, priced accordingly, and absolutely worth it at least once.

A summer ritual centuries deep

Japan has eaten eel for over a thousand years, prized as a stamina food. The big tradition is Doyo no Ushi no Hi — the "midsummer day of the ox" — when, by custom, you eat unagi to beat the brutal heat and fatigue of Japanese summer. (Legend says an Edo-era scholar invented the marketing to help a struggling eel shop. It worked spectacularly, and the custom stuck.)

Two regional styles split the country: Kanto (Tokyo) style steams the eel before grilling, making it feather-soft; Kansai (Osaka) style skips the steam and grills it straight, for a crispier, richer bite. Both are glorious.

Why the tare and the char make it

The soul of unagi is that glossy lacquer of tare — a sweet-savory glaze of soy, mirin, sake, and sugar, often from a "master sauce" a shop has topped up for decades. The eel is dipped and grilled, dipped and grilled, building layer after caramelized layer until it gleams.

The charcoal does the rest: smoky aroma, crisp edges, rendered fat. Sprinkle a little sansho (Japanese pepper) on top and its citrusy, tongue-tingling kick cuts the richness perfectly.

How it's made

1. Butterfly and debone fresh eel
2. (Kanto style) Steam to render fat and tenderize; (Kansai style) skip straight to grilling
3. Grill over charcoal, repeatedly brushing with sweet-savory tare
4. Build up layers of glaze until glossy and caramelized
5. Serve over rice (unadon/unaju), with sansho pepper on the side

Before you go — splurge wisely

Your questions, answered honestly

"Is it expensive?" — Yes — unagi is a splurge (often ¥2,500–5,000+), partly because wild eel is increasingly scarce. Treat it as a special meal, not a casual lunch.

"Unadon vs unaju?" — Same dish, different box. Unadon comes in a round bowl, unaju in a lacquered square box (usually a slightly fancier, larger serving). Both are eel over rice.

"What's hitsumabushi?" — A famous Nagoya style: the eel is chopped over rice and eaten in thirds — first plain, then with condiments (wasabi, nori, negi), then with dashi poured over like ochazuke. A fantastic way to experience it.

"What's the green powder?" — Sansho, Japanese pepper. Sprinkle a little on the eel — its bright, numbing citrus kick balances the richness. Don't skip it.

"Liver soup?" — Many shops offer kimosui, a clear soup with eel liver. It's a delicacy — try it if you're curious.

What the staff will ask you

To order, just say "Unadon hitotsu kudasai" (うな丼一つください) — "one eel bowl, please."

Where to eat it

• Nagoya — for hitsumabushi, the chopped-eel-three-ways style. A destination dish.
• Specialist unagi shops (unagi-ya) — long-running restaurants, often with a master tare aged for generations. Worth booking.
• Hamamatsu (Shizuoka) — a famous eel-farming region with great local shops.

Top shops are busy on Doyo no Ushi no Hi (midsummer) and often need reservations — and the dish takes time to prepare, so don't go in a rush.