In the fluorescent-lit bustle of Makati’s Milky Way Building, on the third floor where the air hums with the promise of something exquisite, Tsukiji Japanese Restaurant has been a quiet shrine to the art of sushi since 1989. It’s the kind of place where the fish, flown in from Tokyo’s legendary Tsukiji Market, arrives so fresh it might as well have swum to Manila itself. For over three decades, this was the domain of Chef Toshiro Okajima, a Tokyo native whose hands turned raw bluefin tuna, sea urchin, and Canadian scallops into edible haikus. On May 20, 2025, the restaurant announced his passing, and with it, a light went out in Manila’s culinary scene.

To dine at Tsukiji was to step into Chef Okajima’s world, a place where Japan’s culinary heritage wasn’t just served but revered. The restaurant, named after Tokyo’s fabled fish market, prided itself on being the first in Manila to directly import its seafood from that storied source. Hontoro—bluefin tuna so rich it melts like a whispered secret—uni from Hokkaido, and hotate with their gentle sweetness were the stars of a menu that didn’t shout but sang. Chef Okajima, who began his career at the Tsukiji Fish Market as a buyer before rising to sushi chef, brought an almost monastic discipline to his craft. His sashimi platters were not just food but a narrative of precision, each slice a testament to years spent understanding the grain of fish and the weight of a knife.

Chef Oka with the sushi he made into edible poetry | Photo: Tsukiji Makati

Walking into Tsukiji, you didn’t just eat; you surrendered. The dining room, perched above Arnaiz Avenue, was no temple of hushed minimalism but a warm, slightly worn space that felt like an extension of the chef himself. Regulars—Japanese expats, Manila’s food-obsessed elite, and the occasional curious tourist—knew to trust Okajima’s touch. A kaiseki tasting menu he curated in August 2022, paired with Mars whiskies, was described as “exceptional,” a multi-course journey that left diners dreaming of Hokkaido’s uni and the silken bite of nigiri. His yakiniku room, with its smokeless grills, let you sear Ohmi wagyu or Kobe-style beef from Snake River Farms, a nod to his versatility beyond the sushi counter.

Okajima’s story wasn’t one of flash or fame-chasing. He was no celebrity chef mugging for Instagram. Born in Tokyo, he cut his teeth in the chaotic, fish-slicked alleys of Tsukiji Market, learning the language of the sea before bringing it to Manila. His rise from buyer to sushi master was a quiet climb, built on an obsession with quality. Tsukiji’s social media post, raw with grief, called him a “true culinary artist” who brought Tokyo’s heart to the Philippines. They weren’t wrong. His food was a bridge between continents, a reminder that a single piece of nigiri could carry the weight of a culture.

Long before it was common practice, Tsukiji in Makati was the first to fly in seafood directly from Tokyo’s iconic Tsukiji Market | Photo: Tsukiji Makati

Manila’s dining scene, often a kaleidoscope of trends and fleeting obsessions, owed much to Okajima’s steadfast presence. Since opening in 1989, Tsukiji became a fixture on lists of the city’s best restaurants, a favorite among those who knew that good sushi isn’t just about fresh fish but about the hands that shape it. His legacy, as the restaurant put it, lives on in the memories he created—each slice of hontoro, each perfectly formed rice ball, each plate that landed with the understated grace of a man who let his work speak for itself.

What’s next for Tsukiji? The restaurant will go on, no doubt, its grills still sizzling, its fish still arriving from half a world away. But without Okajima, it’s hard to imagine the place feeling quite the same. He was the pulse behind the plates, the man who made you believe that a single bite could tell a story. Manila’s food lovers will keep dialing those numbers—(02) 8843-4285, (02)  8812-2913, (0995) 617-9209—to reserve a table, chasing the echo of his craft. And somewhere, in the delicate curve of a scallop or the glint of a tuna slice, Chef Toshiro Okajima’s spirit will linger, saying, as the restaurant did, “Arigato gozaimasu.”