Now *that's* a knife.

Observed today at the Tokyo (Tsukiji) Fish market.

Lauren and I roused ourselves at 6:30 to get to the fish market early; I had counted on this being a highlight of my trip before I even got there.  It did not disappoint: acres of tightly packed stalls selling all manner of sea creature, much of it still flopping around or stiff with rigor mortis.  Tuna is king: everywhere you look massive carcases are being expertly divided and transported to who-knows-where.  There are tons of tourists, but people are trying to conduct business and you spend most of your time just trying to get out of the way.  It's staggeringly clean: no sloppiness of any sort, anywhere, and it barely even smells like fish.  Tokyo, in general, is almost surreal in how clean it is but this was ridiculous.

Lauren and I took a break and saddled up to a kiosok with three stools for some simple, delicious ramen, then she snuck back to the hotel to quickly ammend a footwear issue.  I took the opportunity to have second-breakfast (the *best* breakfast), and ducked into one of the many sushi restaurants that reside within the market.  To be honest, I'm not a huge sushi guy: in NY, either you're paying through the nose for it or it's just the same old defrosted salmon or california rolls.  What arrived before me here was a small bowl filled with luke warm rice, and topped with four types of tuna: bright red thick slabs, medium red slabs, mashed tuna, and creamy red sheets of toro.  Good lord.  The toro, of course, was the star, but the other less choice cuts were no less compelling: while they lacked the melt-in-your-mouth texture of the belly, they were twice as flavorful.  Had I not been so sure I would have been kicked out, I would have gladly disobeyed their strict "no photography" policy.  Oh well.