Nobu Matsuhisa solved a problem his guests didn’t know they had.
When he opened Matsuhisa in Beverly Hills in 1987, he was cooking a cuisine most Americans had barely encountered: Japanese technique fused with the Peruvian flavors he had absorbed during years working in Lima. The food was precise, beautiful, and largely raw — and one evening a guest told him, politely but clearly, that she wasn’t comfortable eating completely raw fish.
His response was New Style Sashimi.
He took paper-thin slices of halibut — hirame, the Japanese flounder — and arranged them over yuzu soy on a cold plate. He topped each slice with thin ginger julienne and scallion. Then he heated olive oil and sesame oil together until smoking, and poured the oil over the fish in one fast, tableside stream.
The sizzle was immediate and theatrical. The oil seared the surface of each slice in under a second. The ginger wilted and bloomed. The yuzu soy emulsified briefly at the edges. The fish was simultaneously seared and raw — barely-cooked at the surface, fully raw inside, with a texture and flavor that had no equivalent in any other dish Matsuhisa served.
The guest was satisfied. The dish became a signature. Thirty-five years later it is still on the menu at every Nobu location worldwide.
What Makes This Dish Work
There are four elements that must all be right:
The fish. Halibut or fluke (hirame) is the classic choice — lean, delicate, almost translucent when fresh, with a mild clean flavor that shows the ginger and the oil rather than competing with them. At home, sashimi-grade halibut from a Japanese grocery (Mitsuwa, H Mart) or a reputable fishmonger is the target. Salmon works well and is easier to source. Sea bass is a good option. Avoid anything too firm or assertive.
The slice thickness. Paper-thin, about 1/8 inch. This is the detail home cooks most often skip. At 1/4 inch, the hot oil sears the very surface but doesn’t affect enough of the slice to produce the textural contrast. At 1/8 inch, the oil’s contact heat reaches further into the fish — the result is a slice that is almost uniformly changed at the surface while the center holds raw. Use the sharpest knife you have and cut against the grain.
The oil temperature. Hot enough to sear and sizzle on contact. Nobu’s cookbook heats the oil until the surface shimmers, just short of a boil; many home cooks push it to the first wisps of smoke for a stronger sear. Either way, oil that’s merely warm only wets the fish — it does not sear, does not wilt the ginger, does not create the sizzle. The thermometer-free test is a drop of water: if it sizzles and evaporates on contact, the oil is ready. The window between “ready” and “scorched” is about 30 seconds at high heat — watch it constantly and pour the moment it’s there.
The oil blend. Mostly olive oil with a small amount of sesame — Nobu’s cookbook recipe uses about 3 tablespoons pure olive oil to 1 teaspoon toasted sesame oil per serving. The olive oil provides the fat volume and slight fruitiness; the sesame is present primarily for its aroma, and a little goes a long way. Pure olive oil (rather than extra-virgin) gives more control because its higher smoke point holds up better as you heat the oil to the shimmering, sear-ready point. Use toasted (dark) sesame oil, not light — the nutty roasted scent is what the dish smells like.
The Yuzu Soy Base
The yuzu soy goes on first — a shallow pool that the fish floats in and the hot oil hits. It does two things: seasons the fish from underneath as it sits briefly on the cold plate, and creates the dramatic sizzle when the smoking oil hits the cool citrus-soy. Nobu’s recipe is simple: three parts soy sauce to one part yuzu juice. Bottled yuzu ponzu (Kikkoman or Mizkan) works well as a ready-to-use substitute. Keep it thin — it should pool, not sit in a thick layer.
At the Table
The pour is the moment. Nobu servers bring the plated fish to the table, then heat the oil in the kitchen and walk it out. The pour happens in front of guests: one fast, even stream over the fish, immediate sizzle, immediate service. The drama is real and deliberate — Nobu built this dish to be seen as well as eaten.
At home, you can do the same: plate the fish in the kitchen, bring the plates to the table, then heat the oil and carry it out. Or do the whole thing in the kitchen if a tableside pour is impractical. Either way, serve within 30 seconds of the pour — the heat dissipates fast and the dish should still be faintly sizzling when it arrives.
The restaurant charges $28 to $32 for an appetizer portion. At home: about $20 for two, mostly the cost of the fish.
