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I was feeling pretty good watching it all go down. “Only children can touch big tuna!” shouted a woman in a bandanna as she and her cohort urged little kids to bum rush the barriers and stroke the glistening fish. Their parents snapped away. We were told the fish was about six or seven years old and about half its potential size. A master of ceremonies earned some yuks by unveiling a plastic samurai sword and attempting to cut away one of its pectoral fins. Then out came the hacksaws and a long, much sharper blade and a three-man crew got to work, taking off the head and breaking down the first half of the loins and the belly.
Standing by the display cooler where they were supposed to go, I waited with increasing anxiety as three beautifully marbled rectangles were intercepted by well dressed, middle-aged women with murder in their eyes–all of whom had already collected four or five pieces. But I did eventually score a nice little piece for $13 and change. I also splurged on some fresh wasabi root and a piece of yellowtail.
