The History of Sushi: From Ancient Preservation to the Art of Raw Fish

In 718 CE, Japan’s legal code, the Yōrō Ritsuryō (養老律令), included a remarkable entry. Among the items eligible for tax payment was “sushi” (鮨).^[1] This is one of the earliest recorded appearances of the word in written documents. Yet the sushi of that era bore no resemblance to what we know today. It was not fresh fish placed atop vinegared rice — it was fermented fish. Pungent, aged, something closer to cheese than anything we’d recognize as sushi.

How did a salted, fermented preservative food become one of the most delicate raw preparations in the world? This transformation was not simply a matter of changing tastes. It was the result of technological progress, urban growth, and a fundamental shift in the cultural understanding of what “freshness” means.

Before Raw Fish, There Was Fermentation: Southeast Asian Roots

The oldest known form of sushi, narezushi (なれずし), is widely believed to have originated not in Japan but in Southeast Asia — though some scholars remain cautious about this claim due to limited direct documentary evidence.^[2] Southeast Asia had long been home to well-developed rice cultivation and abundant freshwater fish from rivers and lakes. These two conditions combined to produce a distinctive preservation technique.

The method was straightforward. Caught fish were salted, then layered with cooked rice and pressed under heavy stones. After months — sometimes years — the lactic acid produced by the rice fermented and preserved the fish. The rice itself became mushy and inedible through fermentation, but the fish within could be kept for a long time. It was an excellent method of preserving protein in an era without refrigeration.

This technique has been used for thousands of years across Thailand, Laos, Myanmar, Cambodia, and neighboring countries, and similar fermented fish foods can still be found in these regions today. Thailand’s Pla Ra, Laos’s Pa Daek, and Vietnam’s Mắm are all part of the same family of fermented fish products.^[3]

Exactly when and how this technique reached Japan remains unclear. Some argue it traveled via China; others suggest it arrived through maritime trade routes. What is known is that the earliest Japanese records of a food resembling narezushi appear around the 8th century, consistent with the Yōrō Ritsuryō mentioned above.^[1]

Testimony from Lake Biwa: Funazushi

The oldest surviving form of narezushi in Japan is funazushi (鮒ずし), made near Lake Biwa in Shiga Prefecture.^[4] Funa means crucian carp, and the dish uses nigorobuna (ニゴロブナ), a variety native to Lake Biwa. Records indicate this method of preserving fish has been practiced in the region for at least 1,200 years.

The preparation of funazushi is lengthy and demanding. In spring, crucian carp caught just before spawning are cleaned and packed in salt. After summer passes and autumn arrives, the salt is rinsed away and the fish are repacked with cooked rice. They are then left to ferment for another one to several years. The finished funazushi is an intensely fermented fish — the rice having dissolved and disappeared in the process. The smell is extremely strong, unavoidably unfamiliar to anyone encountering it for the first time.

Funazushi continues to be produced today as an expensive regional specialty, serving as a living artifact of what the original narezushi must have been like. The fact that this was sushi’s starting point stands in dramatic contrast to the image of freshness that sushi represents today.

Instead of Discarding the Rice: From Fermentation to Sourness

The long fermentation time of narezushi was an enormous drawback. Food that required months or years of waiting was not efficient. So in Japan, a gradual shift began toward shortening the fermentation period.

During the Muromachi period (1336–1573), an intermediate form emerged known as namanare (生なれ) or namanari (生成り).^[5] Rather than waiting for full fermentation, this style was eaten partway through the process. At this stage, both the fish and the rice packed with it were consumed — because the rice, not yet fully fermented, remained edible.

Then came a decisive breakthrough. During the Muromachi period, a method was developed to skip fermentation entirely by using vinegar. Rice was mixed with rice vinegar and salt to artificially recreate the sourness that fermentation had provided. This was hayazushi (早ずし), or “quick sushi.”^[5] Instead of waiting months, it could be prepared within a day or two.

The emergence of hayazushi marks an important turning point in sushi’s history. From this point, sushi began shifting its character — from a preservation technique to a food enjoyed for its distinctive sourness. And this change raises another key question: without fermentation or prolonged aging, is there any reason to cook the fish at all?

The Invention of Edo: Fast Food for a Fast City

In the late 18th and early 19th centuries, Edo (present-day Tokyo) was one of the largest cities in the world, with a population exceeding one million.^[6] This vast city gave birth to a new food culture. It was here that the direct ancestor of what we now call sushi was born: Edomae-zushi (江戸前ずし).

Edomae (江戸前) literally meant “in front of Edo” — referring to what is now Tokyo Bay. Street vendors appeared throughout Edo selling fresh fish and seafood from these nearby waters, placed atop vinegared rice and prepared on the spot. This was the original form of nigiri-zushi (握り寿司).

The figure most often credited with popularizing this format is Hanaya Yohei (華屋与兵衛, 1799–1858).^[7] In the late Edo period, he ran a sushi stall in the Ryogoku district, selling hand-pressed sushi that closely resembles the form we know today. Nigiri-zushi required no fermentation and no lengthy preparation. Fish was placed on vinegared rice and pressed in the palm of the hand — and it was done. Standing at a stall, eating on the go: fast food for a fast city.

Demand for sushi in Edo was explosive. According to the 1852 publication Morisada Mankō (守貞謾稿), there were twelve sushi restaurants within a single city block (roughly 100m × 100m), while you might have to walk twelve blocks to find a single soba shop.^[8] Sushi was ordinary everyday food for commoners — it was fast food.

This Edo-style sushi is the direct ancestor of the sushi that has spread across the world. Yet there is something remarkable about the fact that what we now enjoy as high-end dining alongside sashimi was once street food.

Why Raw Again? The Reasons Behind a Counterintuitive Shift

Since discovering fire, humans have cooked their food. Cooking is safe. It kills parasites and pathogens, eases digestion, and allows the body to absorb more nutrients. Yet sushi ran counter to tens of thousands of years of this habit. How did a culture of eating raw fish take root?

The first reason is the paradox of fermentation. The original narezushi was never about eating fish raw in the conventional sense. The fermentation process itself was a kind of safety mechanism. Prolonged fermentation eliminated pathogens, and the acidic environment created by lactic acid suppressed the growth of harmful bacteria.^[9] In other words, in the earliest forms of sushi, the ability to eat fish “raw” was made possible by fermentation itself.

The second reason is the role of vinegar. In hayazushi, vinegar was more than a seasoning. The empirical understanding that an acidic environment inhibits bacterial growth may have made eating raw fish with vinegared rice feel “safe.”^[9]

The third and most important reason is the aesthetics of freshness. Japan developed a culinary philosophy centered on savoring the pure, natural flavors of ingredients.^[10] Cooking fish changes its intrinsic taste and texture. The clean, delicate sensation of fresh fish, its natural fat and flavor — these can only be preserved by keeping it raw. As Edo’s cooks explored what made the fish from Tokyo Bay taste its absolute best, they found that placing fresh raw fish directly on vinegared rice was the ideal form.

The fourth reason is practical context. Edo had a vibrant street-food culture. It was impractical to build fires at stalls to grill or steam fish. Nigiri-zushi, shaped instantly by hand, was a perfect fit for the city’s food environment.

Sashimi: A Raw Fish Culture Older Than Sushi

The culture of eating raw fish did not develop through sushi alone. Sashimi (刺身) — sliced raw fish — developed independently from sushi and may in fact have a longer history.

Records of sashimi appear in earnest from Japan’s Muromachi period (14th–16th centuries).^[11] It was served as a banquet dish: fresh fish thinly sliced and presented with a dipping sauce. The word sashimi (刺身), meaning “pierced body” or “cut body,” is said to derive from the practice of skewering a fish’s fin or tail into its flesh to identify the species, since the species was otherwise hard to recognize once sliced.^[11]

During the Edo period, sashimi became a central element of refined cuisine. The history of tuna involves a remarkable reversal. In the Edo period, the red flesh of tuna was considered food for the lower classes. Fatty tuna spoiled easily and was difficult to keep without refrigeration. The belly cut known as ōtoro (大トロ) was so rich it earned the nickname nekomatagi (猫またぎ) — “what even a cat won’t step over.”^[12] This is the humble origin of what is today one of the most expensive items at any sushi counter.

Tuna’s rehabilitation came with the advance of refrigeration. Once cold-chain distribution became possible, the true value of properly preserved tuna revealed itself.

Korean 회 and 육회: Another Raw Food Tradition

The culture of eating raw food is not unique to Japan. In fact, the Chinese character 膾 (hoe in Korean) itself tells the story. The character originally referred to thinly sliced raw meat or raw fish, and it already appears in texts from China’s Zhou dynasty (1045–256 BCE).^[16] In the Analects of Confucius, there is a passage — “膾不厭細,” meaning “the finer the hoe is cut, the better” — with records of serving it with scallions in spring and mustard in autumn, each seasoning suited to its season.

This raw-food culture spread throughout East Asia. Korean records of eating hoe (회) go back to the Three Kingdoms period. During the Goryeo dynasty, it is commonly said that Buddhist prohibitions on killing reduced consumption — but the reality was different. The mid-Goryeo literatus Yi Gyu-bo (1168–1241) and the late-Goryeo scholar Yi Saek (1328–1396) both wrote poems describing the enjoyment of hoe.^[17] Even in a Buddhist state, hoe never disappeared.

By the Joseon dynasty, hoe culture was even more firmly established. In Joseon, where Confucianism served as the state ideology, the fact that Confucius himself had enjoyed hoe actually lent legitimacy to the raw-food tradition. There is an intriguing historical anecdote: when Ming dynasty soldiers deployed to Joseon during the Imjin War (1592–1598) mocked Koreans for eating hoe, Joseon scholars reportedly rebutted them by quoting the Analects.^[17]

Korean hoe is the same raw fish as Japanese sashimi, but the way it is eaten differs considerably. The most notable difference is a preference for hwaleo (live fish). While Japanese chefs typically bleed the fish and allow it to age for a period to develop a soft umami flavor, Koreans prefer fish processed alive immediately after catch, prizing the firm, springy texture.^[18] Korean hoe is also typically eaten by wrapping pieces in lettuce or perilla leaves along with chogochujang (a vinegared chili paste), garlic, and chili — the ssam style. Unlike the Japanese approach of maximizing the ingredient’s innate flavor, Korean hoe culture embraces a combination of diverse tastes and textures. Another uniquely Korean practice is finishing the meal with maeuntang — a spicy fish soup made from the remaining bones and head.

Even more surprising is that Korea also has a tradition of eating raw meat. 육회 (yukho), literally “meat hoe,” consists of fresh beef cut into thin strips, seasoned with sesame oil, soy sauce, garlic, and sesame seeds, and topped with sliced Korean pear and a raw egg yolk.^[19] During the Joseon dynasty, cattle were essential to farming, so slaughter was not taken lightly. Yukho was therefore primarily a delicacy served at royal banquets. Presenting meat raw in itself was a symbol of wealth and authority — a statement that one could obtain the finest-quality beef.

The establishment of official slaughterhouses in the twentieth century brought yukho to a wider public. Today, the yukho alley of Gwangjang Market in Seoul stands as an emblematic site showing how a royal court dish transformed into everyday street food.^[19]

Raw Food Cultures Around the World

The practice of eating food raw was not confined to East Asia. Across the world, peoples independently developed their own ways of eating uncooked ingredients.

Peru’s ceviche originated approximately 2,000 years ago in the Moche civilization.^[20] Intriguingly, in an era before citrus fruits arrived in South America, the fermented juice of banana passionfruit was used instead. After Spanish trade introduced limes and lemons, the dish took on its modern form, and in 2023 it was inscribed as a UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity. In that citrus acid chemically denatures fish protein — a process sometimes called “cold cooking” — ceviche represents yet another solution to making raw ingredients safe without fire.

Traditions of eating raw meat span multiple continents. Lebanon and Syria’s kibbeh nayyeh is raw lamb finely ground together with bulgur (cracked wheat) and spices.^[21] Ethiopia’s kitfo is minced raw beef combined with spiced butter; it is a ritual food served at weddings and religious holidays.^[22] France’s steak tartare is famous for the legend that Tatar horsemen carried meat beneath their saddles, but this story has no historical basis. The dish actually developed in nineteenth-century Europe, and its name comes not from the preparation but from the tartare sauce.^[23]

Even after discovering fire, then, human beings never abandoned raw food. Through fermentation, acid, spices, or simply freshness itself, people around the world found in uncooked food a distinctive taste and texture that cooked food cannot provide.

The Osaka Path: Hako-zushi

Edomae nigiri-zushi is the most widely recognized form in sushi’s history, but Japan has other styles that developed independently in different regions. Among the most significant is hako-zushi (箱ずし), or “box sushi,” which evolved primarily in Osaka — the merchant city then known as Naniwa.

Hako-zushi is a type of pressed sushi (oshi-zushi, 押しずし) made by layering vinegared rice and fish in a wooden mold and pressing them together. Its prototype appeared during the Muromachi period and flourished among merchants in the Kansai region (Osaka and Kyoto) during the Edo period.^[13] Because it could be cut into uniform pieces, hako-zushi was well suited for transport and sale — a style that reflected the commercial character of Osaka.

The sushi cultures of Kansai (western Japan) and Kantō (Edo and eastern Japan) maintained distinct styles for a long time — Osaka’s oshi-zushi versus Edo’s nigiri-zushi. The Edo style ultimately spread nationally and then globally through modernization, but hako-zushi specialty shops can still be found throughout Osaka today.

Refrigeration and Globalization: The 20th-Century Transformation

For Edo-born nigiri-zushi to become a global food, one more enormous change was required: the development of refrigeration technology and international air freight.

Before the 20th century, the distribution range of fish was extremely limited. Fresh seafood could only be consumed near the coast. For sushi to leave Japan and travel the world, there needed to be a way to transport fresh fish safely over long distances.

In the 1960s and 70s, advances in cold-chain logistics combined with the expansion of international air routes made long-distance transport of fresh seafood feasible.^[14] During the same period, small sushi restaurants began appearing in the United States, centered on Japanese immigrant communities.

But the catalyst for sushi’s explosive spread into mainstream American culture, according to many accounts, was the emergence of the California Roll. The California Roll uses crab meat (or imitation crab), avocado, and cucumber; contains no raw fish; and is an “inside-out” roll (uramaki, 裏巻き) with rice on the outside. It is generally credited to Japanese chefs in Los Angeles or Vancouver in the 1970s, developed for North American customers reluctant to eat raw fish — though the exact inventor remains disputed.^[15] The California Roll lowered the psychological barrier to raw fish, serving as a bridge through which Americans gradually became familiar with traditional sushi.

Through the 1980s and 90s, sushi acquired in America the image of a healthy, sophisticated food. This reputation then spread to Europe, South America, Australia, and beyond.

Tuna and the World’s Fisheries

One of the places where the most dramatic changes occurred as sushi went global was in the world’s fishing grounds. Tuna — particularly bigeye tuna and Atlantic bluefin tuna — became the highest-priced species in the sushi market.

The Atlantic bluefin tuna (Thunnus thynnus) has an interesting history. Until the 1960s, bluefin along the American and Canadian east coast were either a sport-fishing target or a low-value species used for animal feed.^[14] But as demand for sushi and sashimi surged in Japan and frozen air transport became possible, bluefin caught in Canada began to be exported to the Japanese market. From the 1970s onward, this trade intensified and the price of bluefin multiplied many times over. A cheap bycatch species became the world’s most expensive fish within a single generation.

This transformation shows that sushi’s globalization was not merely a cultural phenomenon. Sushi became an economic force that directly reshaped the ecology of the world’s fisheries. Some tuna species have been pushed toward extinction by overfishing — a tension that today fuels ongoing debate about sustainable fishing and the sushi industry.

Global Sushi and Its Local Variations

Today sushi is Japanese food, yet around the world it is undergoing its own independent variations. In Brazil, a distinctive sushi culture has developed as Japanese immigrants blended the form with local ingredients — some statistics suggest Brazil has more sushi restaurants than any country outside Japan.^[14] In the United States, creative rolls like the Dragon Roll and Spicy Tuna Roll have become commonplace. In Europe, a salmon-centric style of sushi has taken hold.

Views on these adaptations differ. Traditionalists in Japan worry that the essence of sushi is being diluted. Others argue that cultural exchange and creative adaptation are what keep sushi alive. Given that sushi’s own form has changed continuously over thousands of years within Japan itself, adaptation may be one of sushi’s defining characteristics.

The history of salmon sushi offers a telling case. Salmon was traditionally never eaten raw in Japan due to concerns about parasites. In the 1980s, the Norwegian fishing industry launched a systematic promotional campaign to export Norwegian farmed salmon to Japan as a raw-consumption product, and its success made salmon sushi commonplace there as well.^[15] Today, salmon (sāmon, サーモン) is one of the most popular sushi ingredients in Japan and worldwide. Salmon sushi is not a tradition — it is an invention of the 1980s and 90s.

From Preservation to Art: Sushi’s Transformation

The history of sushi holds a paradox at its core. Sushi was not invented as a way to eat fish raw. It was the opposite. It began as a means of preserving fish over a long period — extending the edible life of fish through fermentation. That was the purpose of narezushi.

In the course of that history, fermentation times shortened, vinegar replaced fermentation, and finally the process arrived at a point with no fermentation, no prolonged pickling — just fresh fish placed on rice. A preservation technique was transformed into an art of freshness.

At the center of this transformation was the development of refrigeration. Without it, eating fish safely without fermentation or vinegar was difficult. Only after refrigeration could maintain fish’s freshness did sushi complete its evolution into a fully raw food.^[9]

And so what we experience at a sushi counter today — the pure taste of fish just pulled from the water, the temperature and texture of rice shaped by a craftsman — is the accumulated result of thousands of years of technological progress and evolving cultural taste. Fermentation made sushi possible. Vinegar made it fast. Refrigeration made it fresh.

The fast food that Edo street vendor Hanaya Yohei sold at his stall became, in the end, one of the most refined culinary arts in the world. A food that began as a preservation technique became a celebration of freshness itself. That is the greatest reversal in sushi’s long journey.