Toyama Bay has a deep submarine canyon running almost into the shore, and the yellowtail follow it. The set nets that catch them here are fixed in place and wait; the technique has been worked in these waters for something over four hundred years, and Himi claims to be where it began.

When fish over seven kilos, carrying enough fat, are landing reliably, the fishing cooperative issues a formal declaration. Only after that does the name kanburi appear on menus in the town. Winter in Himi effectively starts on that day. Very few foods anywhere are opened by an announcement.

The fish changes its name as it grows. In Toyama it runs from tsubaiso through fukuragi and gando before it is finally buri, at about three years old. Fish that are renamed on the way up are considered auspicious and turn up at celebrations, which is a nice piece of reasoning if you follow it back.

One fish is eaten three ways in the course of a few days: raw, swirled briefly in hot broth, and simmered with daikon until the radish has taken up the oil and gone translucent. Nothing about the sequence is ceremonial. It is simply what a whole yellowtail asks you to do with it.