I Went to a Tuna Cutting in Atlanta. Here’s What Happened.

A stunning bluefin tuna sat atop a pedestal. Its glassy eyes glistened in the natural light from the windows. I knew the tuna wasn’t alive — but boy, did it look like it was about to wink.

I went to my first tuna cutting at O by Brush, the one-Michelin-starred omakase option at Brush Sushi in Buckhead. As a handful of us took our seats around the fresh fish brought in from Mexico, chef Jason Liang picked up one of several knives (he also has a saw) and began slicing, hacking, and scraping. Off with the head, and then came the segments of fatty back (sekam), back cheek (kama-toro), collar bone, and that prized extra-fatty otoro belly.

The muscles in a tuna’s forehead (noten) are one of the rarest cuts on the fish, Liang explained as he pulled two beautiful segments from the head that looked like tenderloin. I could feel my own forehead tingle as he did this. He said this chef’s cut was highly prized for its muscle-to-fat ratio. Served beautifully as nigiri with a touch of fresh wasabi, I couldn’t believe how it melted in my mouth, with more structure and umami than otoro. Forehead is delicious.

A family affair

Ansley Denihan

The kids seated at the omakase counter were the unlikely diners who left no crumbs. A family from Marietta, a couple and their two kids who had just turned 17 and 18, were celebrating the siblings’ birthdays, which were a week apart by the year. This dinner was their present. Liang let the kids scrape meat from the tuna’s spine, and you could tell they loved it.

“We wanted to raise adventurous food kids,” says their mother, Ansley Denihan. “We overshot, obviously. They started eating sushi at three or four. My son has been watching tuna-cutting videos out of Japan for years. At three, he was in love with Giada [De Laurentiis] on Food Network.”

Denihan and her husband spend a week-long staycation in Atlanta yearly, looking for interesting dining adventures. She says exposing her kids to food — bones, guts, and all — is a major part of their upbringing in understanding where food comes from.

“We do everything from hole-in-the-wall restaurants to Michelin,” says Denihan. “We talk to them about how to behave in a restaurant. When they were young, we’d tell them, ‘You’re gonna have to sit for a long time. What are some questions you can ask the other people in the group?’ I just wanted to raise really curious kids.”

Tuna ramen, tuna miso soup, tuna sando

As the segments of fish were whisked away to the kitchen, the chefs began serving courses of spicy tuna tartare, nigiri with the prized cuts, and a katsu-style sando made with tuna tail, which is a tougher part of the fish. The cheek was grilled and folded into a massive ramen with quail eggs and its own fat. Scraped spine meat (courtesy of help from the kids) was used in hand rolls, and other bits were used in a miso soup.

Henna Bakshi

One of my favorite parts of tuna is its spinal jelly — something I experienced for the first time at an at-home Homemakase dinner with chef Alex Candelas earlier this year. Liang hacked at segments of tuna spine and scooped delicate jelly into shot glasses, topped with a ponzu sauce and green onions. Tuna spinal jelly is also rare and tastes like the ocean with rich umami notes, minerality (think oyster shells), and subtle salinity. It’s a treat.

Tomo

There were several choices for drink pairings, including sake, wine, and a new nonalcoholic cocktail menu by bar manager Alexa Adcock. The zero-proof drinks were savory and full of umami to match the courses. The Dark Cherry with black truffle, cherry, and yuzu, and the Side Salad with green tomato, walnut, and paprika were particularly delicious.

Chirori Omakase and Sushi in Midtown and Tomo Japanese Restaurant in Buckhead also offer tuna cuttings for $250 a person. The one at Brush is offered quarterly every year, and the next one is expected in mid-August for $285 a person. It is a rare education worth getting (bring the kids), and the freshness of the fish is without comparison. By the end of it, we were stuffed to the gills (please forgive me) as we melted in our chairs with a fortified 2009 Domaine de Rombeau Rivesaltes Rancio, winking in agreement that we were in on the best-kept dining secret in Atlanta.