I flew all the way to Japan with my friends Lynja and Bayashi in search of the best sushi on Earth. From convenience store onigiri to a private meal with a Michelin-starred master, I tasted 10 totally different sushi experiences — each more insane than the last.
Level one: Toro bento box at 300 mph
My trip started on a bullet train, speeding through Japan at nearly 300 miles per hour. And right there, mid-ride, I opened a toro bento box, filled with some of the highest quality tuna you can get in the entire world. You could tell just by looking at it how fresh and rich it was. That first bite was delicious, and I never thought I’d be eating sushi like this while zooming across the country. Train food in the United States can be pretty good, but the quality of this sushi exceeded anything I’ve ever experienced on transportation.
Level two: 7-Eleven sushi that blew me away
We pulled into the station, and I made my way to a Japanese 7-Eleven, which I’d never been to outside of the U.S. I couldn’t believe I was buying sushi from a convenience store, but I was excited. I grabbed a salmon roe onigiri, a fish paste and mayo square and a tuna sushi roll.
The onigiri blew my mind. They separated the seaweed from the rice, so the seaweed stayed crunchy. It was so simple, but so smart. The rice was perfect, the seaweed was crisp and the fatty salmon eggs on the inside brought the salt and umami.
Next up, that fish paste square? Literally the most amazing bite. Flaky imitation crab, creamy mayo, perfectly cooked rice — everything I’d ever need.
And finally, the tuna roll. For less than $2, I got a sushi roll that, if sliced and plated back home, would easily go for $15. Sure, there wasn’t a ton of tuna inside, but the flavor was still there, and I honestly didn’t care — the quality was high and the price was low. That was fantastic sushi.
Level three: The world’s largest conveyor belt sushi restaurant
We were late for our reservation, but luckily, Lynja had a plan — real-life Mario Kart through the streets of Tokyo. Yes, you can rent go-karts and race them through the streets legally. We had so much fun and definitely worked up an appetite for dinner.
Inside was the largest conveyor belt sushi restaurant in the world, and we had the best seats in the house, sitting right next to the kitchen. That meant first choice on everything that passed by. I started with some tuna, and then went straight for my favorite: salmon with toasted mayonnaise.
There were some less exciting items too, like one overloaded with too much ginger. But the real highlight was the super-speed conveyor belt on top that delivers custom orders without letting anyone else grab your sushi. We ordered a few plates, trying a little bit of everything.
Meanwhile, I couldn’t stop eating the salmon with mayo. Seriously, I had them two at a time. And the salmon roe? Still a favorite. Lynja went for shrimp tempura with mayo, and I swear, I don’t know how she kept eating. But I wasn’t full yet — and neither was she. We knew we could go bigger.
Level four: Catch-your-own sushi
We showed up to Zauo, a restaurant where you literally have to catch your own dinner. But there’s a twist: all they give you is a hook. No bait, no lure. Just a hook.
I was getting nervous — I mean, no fish means no dinner. I tried a sneak attack on one, missed it and lost it. It was way harder than it looked.
Eventually, we got one. And when you catch a fish, they throw an entire restaurant-wide celebration. Then they sliced it up and served it in just a few minutes. I was in awe at the speed of the preparation.
The taste? Unreal. You can’t get fresher sashimi than something you pulled out of a tank yourself.
Level five: $100 Wagyu sushi
Time to go upscale. We visited Wagyu Mafia, a members-only Wagyu restaurant in Tokyo, run by a legit Wagyu expert named Hama.
He served us his tri-color Wagyu sushi with uni (sea urchin) and caviar on top. Hama explained every element: uni from Hokkaido, wasabi harvested from Azumino and eight-year barrel-aged ingredients. He doesn’t cheap out on anything.
And the final bite? That massive piece of nigiri was rich, salty, luxurious — and yes, it was 10:40 in the morning and I didn’t care. I’d eat that every single day for breakfast if I could.
Level six: Sushi class with a pro
We met Chef Hiro, one of the best sushi chefs in Japan, for a private nigiri lesson. He showed us how to slice wild bluefin tuna from Miyagi, using long, sweeping strokes from back to front for maximum blade use. Then he flipped the knife and cut straight down.
Making the nigiri was all about finesse: wet hands, gentle air pockets, fresh wasabi and tightening the sides without smashing the rice. We each tried it — and even though I was nervous, I gave it my best shot. Lynja got a four out of 10, and Bayashi got a two.
Chef Hiro rated my sushi a 10. It felt good to be the champion.
Level seven: Secret sushi
We went underground to find Stand-Up Sushi, a hidden gem with no seats — just a counter, a chef and incredible bites.
Our chef, Yoshi, served Hokkaido hairy crab, which looked a little scary but tasted insanely sweet. Then came shrimp with soy sauce, followed by chutoro (medium-fatty tuna), which was so soft, so rich, with just the right heat from wasabi.
I watched the way Yoshi moved. Every hand motion was deliberate. And then, the moment that blew me away: he seared a piece of blackthroat seaperch sushi in the back and called himself the “searing master.” That piece? Top three sushi bites of my life.
Level eight: Biggest fish market in the world
At 4 a.m., we entered Toyosu Fish Market, the largest and most exclusive seafood market in the world. It was 4.3 million square feet, and I felt like a kid on Christmas.
I found the best uni vendor, tasted different samples, and bought a tray for ¥28,000 (about $200). Then we passed a tank with Japanese spider crabs, and I couldn’t resist.
We bought one, boiled it in a massive pot behind the market, and paired it with the fresh uni. I cracked open a leg, pulled out the meat, and took a bite. Sitting hunched over a box behind a market in Japan, eating one of the best sushi bites of my life — that’s what this trip was all about.
Level nine: The most dangerous sushi
This was it: fugu, also known as pufferfish, is famous for being extremely poisonous if not prepared correctly.
The chef told us the fish was wild, not farmed and that made it even riskier. He’d been doing this for 47 years, and I had to trust him.
The fugu sashimi was served with lime, soy, chives, chili and radish. I took a bite. It was chewier than expected. I waited … and I was fine. Lynja faked a reaction that scared me, but thankfully she was just being funny.
Now that we were relieved no one got poisoned, the anticipation for the next spot was real. Because what came next might’ve been the best sushi I’ve ever tasted.
Level ten: $1,000 Michelin-starred sushi
For the final level, we visited Chef Kazu, a Michelin-starred master who welcomed us into his kitchen to watch him prep. His knife skills made me want to re-enroll in culinary school.
We began with abalone liver sushi, which was far more subtle than any liver I’ve had. It was delicate, clean and shockingly good. Then he served us blackthroat seaperch, our favorite fish from earlier, elevated to a whole new level with crispy seaweed and a delicate balance of flavor.
And for the final bite: Hokkaido sea urchin, one of my favorite foods ever. It’s the best you can get in the world, so technically this was the world’s best sea urchin sushi. One taste, and I knew that title was true. It was the best version of uni I’ve ever had.
Chef Kazu knew it too. He just kept smiling with every bite I took.
The trip of a lifetime — and a lesson I’ll never forget
This wasn’t just about eating sushi. It was about discovering how much thought, tradition and technique can go into a single bite of food. From slicing tuna with a master to catching my own fish, I started to understand just how much respect Japanese chefs have for their craft — and for the ingredients themselves.
Every stop showed me something different. At 7-Eleven, I saw how even fast food here is handled with care. At the fish market, I learned how quality begins long before a knife ever touches a cutting board. And at the Michelin meal, I experienced how passion and precision can speak louder than any fancy garnish ever could.
I came to Japan searching for the world’s best sushi — but what I found was something bigger. I found a whole new level of appreciation for food, a respect for simplicity and a reminder that the best meals don’t always come from the most expensive restaurants. They come from the stories, the people and the devotion behind them.
Want to get a look at the sushi action? Check out my video below!
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