If Japan had a national sport outside of baseball and karaoke, it would be eating. Every region has its signature dishes, every city its proud specialties, and Osaka — Japan’s kitchen — is no exception. From takoyaki to okonomiyaki, the food scene here is loud, proud, and adventurous.
But nothing, and I mean nothing, compares to the adrenaline rush of eating fugu, the Japanese tiger pufferfish.
This is a dish so notorious that just hearing the word “fugu” makes even seasoned chefs sit up a little straighter. Because fugu isn’t just dinner… it’s a dance with danger.
And yes… I danced.
Why I had to try Fugu
As a professional sushi chef, I’ve always respected the precision, the patience, and the quiet focus that define Japanese cuisine. But there was one dish that I’d never dared to try: fugu aka pufferfish.
For those unfamiliar: this isn’t your average piece of fish. The tiger pufferfish carries tetrodotoxin, one of the most potent natural poisons known to man. One wrong cut, and that delicate piece of sashimi could become lethal.
So, naturally, I thought…. I have to try it. Well….actually it was my wife Corinne thought we should try it 🙂
So when we were in Osaka, exploring its legendary food scene, we came across Guenpin-Kitashinchi, a restaurant that has specialized in fugu for over 40 years. If there was a safe place to try it, this was it.
Still, as we walked in, I could feel my heartbeat rising. My palms were sweaty, my mind spinning with thoughts I probably shouldn’t have had before dinner. Was I really about to eat something that could kill me?
The deadliest fish on the menu
Before I tell you what it tasted like, let’s talk about why fugu is so dangerous — and why eating pufferfish in Japan is both feared and celebrated.
The danger lies not in the flesh itself but in the organs — the liver, ovaries, intestines, and sometimes the skin. These parts contain tetrodotoxin, a neurotoxin that’s about 1,200 times deadlier than cyanide. Just a few milligrams can stop a human heart.
And yet… people line up to eat it.
Luckily, Japan’s fugu chefs are among the most disciplined and regulated professionals in the culinary world. To even be allowed to prepare fugu, a chef must undergo a rigorous training program that typically lasts three years. Only about 10% of chefs ever earn the coveted license.
Our chef that evening had over 20 years of experience, and when I asked him about his first time preparing fugu for a customer, he smiled nervously and said:
“The first time took me forty minutes. Now, it takes three.”
Even for the masters, the respect — and fear — for this fish never disappears.
The numbers don’t lie
So how dangerous is it, really? In the 1960s and 70s, dozens of people in Japan died each year after eating poorly prepared fugu — often homemade or caught illegally.
But today, thanks to strict licensing and inspections, the numbers have plummeted. Between 2008 and 2018, Japan recorded 295 fugu-related poisonings and just three deaths — all from fish prepared by amateurs, not restaurants.
So yes, it’s risky. But in the right hands, eating fugu in Japan is more of a thrill than a threat.
Course One: Fugu Skin Salad – The nerve-tingling start
The first dish arrived: a small porcelain bowl filled with thin, almost translucent strips of fugu. It looked delicate, innocent even — nothing about it screamed “danger.”
The skin was sliced into fine ribbons and mixed with spring onions and a ponzu-style soy-citrus sauce. I picked up my chopsticks, looked at Corinne, and said, “I love you.”
We took the first bite together.
The texture was slightly chewy — almost rubbery — with a refreshing tang from the ponzu. Was it delicious? Honestly, not really. But the flavor wasn’t the point. Every nerve in my body was awake. I’d never been so hyper-aware of swallowing in my life.
Corinne, of course, looked perfectly calm. She even smiled.
Course Two: Fugu Sashimi – Paper-thin precision
Next came the course every sushi chef dreams of mastering: fugu sashimi, or tessa.
The chef presented it like art — each slice so thin it was nearly transparent, arranged in a chrysanthemum shape (ironically, Japan’s flower of death).
I admired the craftsmanship. Each cut had to be exact; the slightest slip could be disastrous.
We dipped the slices into ponzu, added a touch of spicy momiji oroshi (grated daikon with chili), and took a bite.
It was cool, firm, and subtly sweet. But again, the flavor was mild — understated, almost shy. Fugu isn’t about bold taste; it’s about texture, elegance, and the story behind it.
Still, I found it… underwhelming. The thrill of the first bite had faded. Corinne agreed. It was more interesting than delicious.
Course Three: Fugu Hot Pot – The moment of magic
Then came redemption.
The final dish was tecchiri, a traditional fugu hot pot. The waitress brought out a small paperlike pot filled with simmering broth, napa cabbage, shiitake mushrooms, tofu, and glass noodles.
He carefully placed the remaining fugu pieces inside, letting them poach slowly. The aroma was incredible — warm, umami-rich, inviting.
And when we finally tasted it… everything changed.
The fish had softened, losing its chewiness. The flavor was delicate but deep — like a clean ocean breeze wrapped in comfort. The broth had absorbed the essence of the fish and vegetables, turning into something rich and soulful.
We slurped happily. For the first time that night, I wasn’t nervous. I was just… enjoying.
And then came the finale: the chef strained the leftover broth, added rice, and created a small porridge-like dish called zosui. It was savory, soothing, and absolutely delicious — the perfect ending to a rollercoaster meal.
What I learned from eating Pufferfish in Japan
That night at Guenpin-Kitashinchi taught me more than just what fugu tastes like. It taught me about discipline, respect, and courage in cooking. Here’s what stood out:
1. Even chefs get scared: When a master chef admits that he was shaking the first time he served fugu, you realize this fish commands true respect. Fear isn’t weakness — it’s part of the ritual.
2. Wild vs. farmed matters: We ate wild fugu, which tend to grow larger and have slightly richer flavor than farmed ones. The chef told us that wild fish are more unpredictable but also more rewarding.
3. Never, ever try it yourself: Don’t even think about it. Every single fugu poisoning in Japan comes from amateurs. Leave it to the licensed professionals who trained for years to do it safely.
4. The thrill enhances the taste: The tension, the story, the legend — they all add layers to the experience. The flavor might be subtle, but the emotion is unforgettable.
5. The best comes hot: For us, fugu really shines in the hot pot. The warmth coaxes out its sweetness and tender texture. If you’re eating pufferfish in Japan for the first time, don’t stop at sashimi — go all the way to the soup course.
The art behind the risk
As a sushi chef, I left Guenpin with a deeper respect for Japan’s culinary discipline. The preparation of fugu represents the heart of Japanese cooking: patience, skill, and absolute commitment to precision.
There’s something humbling about seeing a chef handle danger with such grace. Watching him cut, clean, and serve that fish reminded me why I fell in love with Japanese cuisine in the first place.
It’s not about flashiness. It’s about devotion. Every slice, every gesture, carries decades of training and mindfulness.
Is eating Fugu in Japan worth the hype?
Absolutely. But maybe not for the reason you expect.
You don’t eat fugu for flavor fireworks. You eat it for the story, the respect, and the quiet thrill of knowing you’ve experienced something uniquely Japanese — something sacred.
For me, it wasn’t just about tasting a rare dish. It was about confronting fear, about trusting another chef’s skill with my life — and walking away inspired.
Corinne didn’t flinch once. I, on the other hand, felt my pulse quicken with every bite. But by the end, I realized I hadn’t just eaten fugu. I’d tasted a piece of Japan’s soul.
Practical tips if you want to try Fugu (Pufferfish) in Japan
If you’re feeling brave (and curious), here’s how to do it safely and well:
- Go to a certified fugu restaurant. Guenpin-Kitashinchi in Osaka is an excellent choice. They’ve been serving fugu safely for four decades.
- Ask about wild vs. farmed. Wild fugu have stronger flavor, but farmed ones are more common.
- Start small. A tasting menu lets you experience different textures — from skin salad to sashimi to hot pot.
- Winter is fugu season. The fish are fattest and most flavorful in the colder months.
- Don’t overthink the danger. Enjoy the experience. The risk is real, but in trained hands, it’s minimal.
Final thoughts
Eating pufferfish in Japan isn’t about danger — it’s about trust. Trust in the chef, trust in the tradition, and trust in centuries of culinary perfectionism.
That night in Osaka, I didn’t just survive dinner — I walked out more alive than ever.
So if you ever find yourself in Japan, take the plunge. Sit down, take a breath, and order the fugu. Feel your pulse quicken, watch the knife flash, and taste the quiet mastery that defines Japanese cuisine.
Just don’t try it at home.
Our restaurant: Guenpin-Kitashinchi, Osaka
Specialty: Wild Tiger Pufferfish (Torafugu)
Established: 1984







