THERE may be no sport more gruesome in the realm of travel than scoring a reservation at Tokyo’s most famous sushi establishments. With just six to eight seats — and one or two rounds of service per night — they’re the ultimate get on a holiday in Japan.

Their desirability has only skyrocketed as international tourism to Japan has grown to an all-time high of over 42 million arrivals in 2025 (a 15.8% increase from the year before). As a result, a set menu meal in Tokyo that was ¥20,000 ($130) in 2024 is now over ¥35,000 ($220).

And it’s not just because high-paying Americans are happy to spend less than the $500 omakases they’ll find in New York, either. Rising ocean temperatures have made it more difficult for Japanese fishermen to access fecund waters; petrol costs are driving up wholesale seafood prices; the closure of generational rice farms is making quality rice harder to come by and global demand is dispersing top talent to more profitable culinary capitals.

None of this makes it easier to find open seats at the sushi counter. Japanese sushiyas prioritize regulars — even at a time when fewer of them can afford to come as frequently. The most dedicated of these diners build long-term relationships with sushi chefs, often making their next reservation at the end of their meal. Many restaurants even hold empty seats and deny first-time guests if it means they’d be able host a cherished regular.

So how do you break in? This is the most frequent question I get about Tokyo, as someone who has spent more than two decades living, working, or making frequent trips there.

First, know that the math works in your favor: There are over 5,000 sushi restaurants in the city, from cheap conveyor-belt eats to $1,000 meals showcasing the rarest, most premium ingredients. Here’s how to navigate them, based on my years of experience and recent conversations with esteemed sushi masters, restaurant jurors for World’s 50 Best and top contributors to Opinionated About Dining, a user-generated global dining guide that factors experience into its ranking algorithm.

HOW MUCH SHOULD I SPEND?
To determine your budget, learn the vocabulary. Kaitenzushi — conveyor belt sushi restaurants — are the most affordable. A meal at Sushiro, the largest such chain in Japan, will only set you back around ¥2,500 ($15) per person.

“I take my children to Sushiro at least once a month,” says Hiroyuki Sato, the acclaimed sushi master at Hakkoku in Ginza. Even the cucumber roll here is a hit, he says, proving the importance of rice quality to the sushi experience.

Up next: tachigui (stand-and-eat establishments) offer some of the best price-value correlation around. They keep real estate and staffing costs low, so (nearly) all your yen go directly to your food. Standouts like Tachiguizushi Akira, tucked into a basement in the business-centric Shinbashi district, will run you around ¥8,000 ($50) for an a la carte meal. That buys you a noticeable upgrade in fish quality; fresh catches get carted into the restaurant from a market that’s only a mile away.

For great value, try higher-end restaurants at lunch, when a meal can cost half as much as dinner — figure around ¥6,000 ($28) to ¥12,000 ($75). The cost difference usually accounts for fewer courses; lunch is also a place for chefs to minimize food waste by using any leftover ingredients from the night before. A recent favorite is Sushi Komari, a relative newcomer decorated in blonde wood; while it excels with the classics, it also offers some playful creations like nori-wrapped charred octopus with wasabi and a dab of cream cheese.

If you aren’t a sushi fanatic, this is where you should cap your spending, as the aforementioned options will still yield better quality than what you can get at home. Go anywhere fancier and you’ll have less agency over what you eat, as fine-dining establishments are chef’s choice to accentuate the seasonal delicacies — which in Japan often means more challenging textures to the Western palate, like raw abalone and shirako (google it.)

These high-end dinners and omakases start around ¥30,000 ($188) and climb to ¥60,000 ($375) — at which point, you’re largely paying for prestige and bragging rights. Quality rarely degrades at critical darlings like Sushi Arai, Sushi Nanba Hibiya, and Sawada — the problem is the relative impossibility of getting into any them without knowing a few tricks.

HOW TO CHOOSE A HIGH-END RESTAURANT
Very few people have the knowledge it takes to understand the diminutive differences that make sushi go from great to exceptional. Even professional critics struggle here, which is why fish fanatics ignore Michelin and World’s 50 Best. Tabelog, Japan’s version of Yelp, is seen by Japanese diners as a better authority: Any restaurant with four or more stars (out of five) is regarded as excellent. Its top 10 sushi restaurants set the gold standard for sushi across the world, but you’d do well with most spots in the top 100.

Much like other aspects of Japanese culture and tradition, sushi has clearly delineated rules, with a mission to prioritize the same seasonal ingredients and time-honored techniques. So if you’re interested in how a chef asserts their creativity, look at their otsumami — the smattering of small courses that precedes the nigiri portion of the meal. These steamed, seared, and sauced plates are often how chefs earn acclaim.

When it comes to sushi itself, the differences can be so minute that I find vibes to matter at least as much as food, especially when you’re seeking a full experience. Many masters operate their establishments with such seriousness that they can often feel like sushi mausoleums, which zaps the fun out of the experience. Some don’t like foreigners, full stop. And since most top sushi chefs speak only Japanese, you can find spots with affable, English-speaking staff by Googling a particular restaurant and adding “English” or “foreigner” to your search term; it’ll give you surprisingly good insight into how comfortable you’re likely to feel.

Another hack: Choose a sushi restaurant within a hotel or on the restaurant level of a department store. It often feels more relaxed and geared toward an international palate, though prices can be inflated by around 30% as a result.

Wherever you go, avoid the dreaded sub-counter, where apprentices prepare your meal instead of the master (and often for the same price!). Many pro diners I spoke with say these experiences can range from fine to completely lackluster. But they’re easy to spot: Only once in my experience did a booking website not clearly indicate which counter I was reserving.

And finally, if your heart isn’t set on a particular restaurant, concentrate your energy on places run by rising stars — young masters who’ve completed their grueling, decade-long apprenticeships at legendary restaurants and have recently struck out on their own. (The booking site TableAll is your go-to source here, as its restaurant listings contain chef bios.) Sushi Akira is my current favorite: The chef is laidback and friendly, plus the place doesn’t have a sub-counter and you can still score an online reservation with a month’s notice. Sushi Ryujiro is another worthy choice.

MAKING THE BOOKING
Even when you know where you want to go, booking is complex: Every establishment has its own idiosyncratic system and even five-star hotel concierges have limited power. The main reservation-making portals are TableCheck, the aforementioned TableAll, Omakase, and Pocket Concierge, and most high-end spots use some but not all of them. If there’s an option to sign up for alerts, do — you’ll get pinged when seats open up at your preferred spot. But be warned, each booking site uses its own algorithm to either prioritize frequent users or those with Japanese phone numbers. (You can invest in the latter with one of the many eSIM services like Mobal or Ubugi if you’re planning a serious food trip to Tokyo.) They can also charge exorbitant fees, sometimes adding 30% to the cost of the meal.

Trip timing can be everything. If you want to increase your odds of success, summer travel makes for easier reservations; the seasonal fish selection is less compelling to Japanese diners than in November or December, when crab, pufferfish, and mollusks steal the show.

Don’t write off secondhand bookings, which could look scammy but are an entire cottage industry in Japan. Known resellers like Jad Ibrahim are frequent sushi-hounds who leverage their connections with chefs to scalp counter seats like they’re tickets for a sold-out concert. Oftentimes they’ll book dinner with “friends,” then sell all but one seat over Instagram and ask you (the buyer) to join them and pay for their meal.

It’s not as much of a racket as it sounds (though do your homework on the original price of your intended meal, as some of these dealers like to pay themselves handsomely for their time as well). The scalpers often speak fluent Japanese and can help elucidate the more arcane aspects of a meal such as highlighting the knife technique used on different cuts of fish, understanding the provenance of various ingredients, or helping you pair your sake with the evening’s courses.

They can also help you with some of the rules of engagement ahead of your night out, of which there are many. But I can help you there, too: Never wear cologne or perfume, avoid over-photographing your food, plan to wait outside for 10 minutes before your reservation and always greet the chef. Saying “oishii desu” (it’s delicious) is a nice way to express your appreciation, but complimenting every course can make you look disingenuous. For best results, save it for your favorite dish or the end of the meal. — Bloomberg