Tokyo's Toyosu Market: Stories from the World's Largest Fish Market

Surrounded on all sides by the sea and blessed with abundant lakes and rivers, the people of Japan have long eaten richly of a wide variety of seafood.

And Japanese people have created a deep diversity of techniques to beget even more deliciousness from the bounty of those seas, lakes, and rivers, so much so that fish and crustaceans, molluscs and seaweed have not only become part of Japanese cuisine, but critical ingredients of the diet of Japan.

Emblematic of Japan’s seafood culture is Toyosu Market, among the largest fish markets in the world. Located in Tokyo’s Koto Ward, Toyosu Market opened in 2018 to replace its aging predecessor, Tsukiji Market. With an area of 40.7 hectares (100.6 acres), 1.7 times that of Tsukiji, and handling a volume of marine products totalling approximately 290,000 metric tons per year, valued in 2023 at 450 billion yen ($3.19 billion USD), the market serves as both a major supplier of marine products in the Tokyo metropolitan area and an international export hub.

For this article, we delved deep behind the scenes at Toyosu, visiting an area usually closed to visitors and interviewing the people and companies that make the daily marine trade of such a massive market possible. What goes on behind the market stalls? And what does that tell us about Toyosu Market today?

If a single edible fish were to represent Japan, it would be the tuna.

As of October 2024, Toyosu Market hosts approximately 450 wholesale trading middlemen who buy up marine products then sell them to restaurants and fishmongers. As many as 150 of them deal in tuna, trading an average of 1,200 fresh and frozen tuna every day.

These middlemen traders buy their day’s stock of tuna in an auction-style event called seri, a Japanese word for auction or bidding that also rings of competitive challenge. Vying to get their hands on the single highest-quality fish of the day, these brokers, as they are known, gather every morning at 5:30 a.m. The majority are men, but recently a sprinkling of women have appeared in the crowd. Perhaps the time is now for diversity to go on the rise, even in the so-called men’s world of Toyosu Market.

So we speak to Tanaka Masako, one of the highly rare women tuna brokers, about how she came to be in this position, what her day-to-day is like, and the joy and adversity she encounters in this work.

Tanaka is the fourth president of her marine products trading company, established sixty years ago by her grandfather, but tells us that her entry into the industry was entirely by chance.

“In August of 2022, my younger brother, the third president of the company, passed away of sudden illness, and at that point virtually the only person who could carry on and succeed him was me. When I was a student I used to help out with customer service and simple accounting during spring and summer breaks, but after getting married and starting a family, I was away from the fish market for a long time. There was nothing else for it but to jump in as basically an amateur. In the beginning, I tagged along with a younger, part-time male employee to the auction floor. He and his fellow brokers taught me everything from the ground up as I learned the auction’s rules and how to discern high-quality tuna.”

“Didn’t you have a lot of difficulties in the beginning?” I ask her.

Tanaka tells me, “One of our company’s signature products, the frozen bigeye tuna, is a reasonably priced yet delicious option. Before each auction, the tuna are lined up in tight rows on the auction floor, tails cut off to reveal a cross section. To find the fish they want, brokers go around the room looking at each cross section to judge the overall quality level of the meat of the tuna as a whole. But that is considered particularly difficult to ascertain in the case of frozen bigeye tuna, and in fact, it’s not uncommon for the meat to be flawed or to lack the right amount of fat when it is disassembled and examined after purchase."

“So in an effort to improve my discernment skills as much as possible, I started to study on my own by taking pictures of the cross sections of tails with my smartphone and comparing them to the actual contents of the fish. Everyone who saw me do this told me, ‘You can’t tell the quality of the tuna just from the meat of its tail. You have to know absolutely everything about it, from the environment of the ocean where it was caught to the technology level used on each fishing boat to quickly prepare the meat and freeze it after a catch.’ That experience truly made me grasp the depth and fascination of tuna as an ingredient.”

Thinking back to that time, Tanaka adds, “The fish market is not the kind of world to offer special consideration for the fact that you are inexperienced or a woman. The tuna auction progresses with each call of the representative of a wholesaler (a company that gathers seafood from production areas and sells it to retailers). It’s a no-holds-barred contest where it takes just three seconds to auction off a tuna. To place our bids, we on the buyers’ side use special hand signals, which were really hard to use in the beginning, and it was tough to match my timing to the auctioneers, who each call with their own unique rhythm.”

Tanaka's lifestyle did a complete about-face when she started working at Toyosu. It turned into days of waking up at two o’clock in the morning and engaging in manual labor in a cold environment.

“Every day was such a scramble I had no time to even think about how sleepy or tired I was. I was so busy with work I couldn’t do enough housework, and it pained me at that time to put so many burdens on my family, including on my high-school-aged youngest daughter.”

So what is the driving force that keeps Tanaka working at the fish market?

“I think it might be something in the DNA passed down by my ancestors, but I really like the tuna business. At the end of 2022, my first year working at Toyosu Market, I was lucky enough to bid on the best tuna of the day, which I hadn’t felt able to do until that point because of my hesitation over the high price and my deference to other, more senior buyers. When I finally did, all my fellow brokers and wholesalers congratulated me and told me, ‘Good job!’ I was so happy, and felt such a sense of achievement,” Tanaka says with a smile. It seems the moment when Tanaka’s daily efforts and her determination as a tuna broker were recognized by those around her.

Tanaka continues, “I gradually learned how to recognize high-quality tuna as little by little I built on my experience. I had more happy opportunities to hear from the restaurants we sold to, ‘The tuna we stocked from you was so excellent!’ and now after two years as company president, we have gained new clients and I’m enjoying this work more and more.

“When I, myself, started this work selling tuna at the fish market,” Tanaka goes on, “I realized once again how grateful I am to my grandfather in the first generation and my father after him, who supported our family through a business that is by no means easy. And then there was my younger brother who carried on that history, who even during the prolonged recession held fast to the family business with the motto, ‘Delicious tuna at the lowest possible price.’ I feel so full of gratitude to him, now, too.”

When I ask what she did right before starting at the fish market, Tanaka answers that she taught cooking classes out of her home. Asked what she would like to try going forward, she answers, “Using my knowledge of cooking, I would like to take on the challenge of developing and selling a seasoning that makes tuna dramatically delicious.”

As we wrap up the interview, she says, “While placing even more importance on communication with our customers, I want to continue to do business with sincerity, attention to detail, and an outpouring of warmth.” There is not an ounce of doubt in her bright voice.

With tuna just the beginning, the deliciousness of all Japanese marine products is supported by a sophisticated distribution system built upon superior freezing and refrigeration technology.

Freezing and refrigeration facilities are, of course, also equipped throughout Toyosu Market. But in areas outside of freezers and refrigerators, such as on the sales floor, marine products are cooled using ice, a practice that remains unchanged since before the relocation of Tsukiji Market.

To cool both marine products and produce combined, Toyosu Market consumes over seventy tons of ice per day. Handling the production and sale of this ice is Toyosu Shijou Hyouhan (Toyosu Market Ice Sales) Corporation, established in 1959.

So I tell Tsunoi and Suzuki from that company that I would be fascinated to see at least once with my own eyes the actual ice that keeps these products so fresh, and how that ice is produced. They generously guide me on tour of the production and sales site—an area normally off-limits to outsiders like us.

The first thing we are shown is the sales floor for blocky pillars of ice called ice blocks. At the back of the area stands a freezer for storing the ice at -5°C (23°F). When we open the door, our bodies are instantly enveloped by the below-freezing air.

My guides remove a blue insulated mat to reveal an orderly row of ice blocks beneath. Straight away, Suzuki gives me a demonstration of how he uses special steel scissor-like tongs to grip a massive pillar of an ice block weighing 135 kg (198 lb) and slide it smoothly over the floor. At first glance he appears to handle it lightly using just a single pair of tongs, but he explains there is a trick to where he grips the ice. The tongs themselves weigh almost 3 kg (6.6 lb), but they do not require much force. These pillars of ice are pre-cut with a circular saw into twelve equal blocks, then sold according to the number of orders placed by customers.

Tsunoi, a thirty-year veteran of the company, tells me, “We mainly carry two types of ice: ice blocks like this one, which come as one big chunk, and crushed ice, which is broken up into little pieces. Compared to crushed ice, ice blocks have a smaller surface area relative to their volume, meaning they don’t melt easily and stay cold longer, but they are also larger, heavier, and more difficult to handle. Those challenges are partly why their consumption here at Toyosu Market is far less than what it was back in the Tsukiji days. Ice blocks now make up only 2–3 percent of the market’s total ice consumption. Also, we often used hand saws before, but as you can see, electric saws have now become the norm. They’re much more efficient.”

Next we are shown the six-story facility where crushed ice is produced and sold. Here, plate ice created on the fourth floor is broken up and dropped down into ice storage on the third floor. As orders come in, the requisite quantity of ice is measured in an area on the second floor, then ejected via a nozzle on the first floor, where it is sold. The daily production capacity is 60 metric tons. The two storage tanks on the third floor have a combined capacity of 110 tons, and usage of the two tanks is alternated to provide a completely uninterrupted supply of ice throughout the day.

“Crushed ice melts more easily than ice blocks,” Suzuki explains, “but by keeping it frozen at a continuous -15–16°C (3.2–5°F), the bonds between the ice crystals become stronger, and the ice becomes harder and more resistant to melting. The ice grains are small so they cool products quickly and are also lightweight, plus there are many other merits, too, like being able to place the ice directly against the body of the fish.” He goes on, “We specialize in ice for refrigeration rather than eating, but lately, in response to the requests of customers from outside the market, we have started selling a small quantity aimed at sporting events and festivals held near Toyosu.”

But I get an unexpected response when I ask whether the heatwave over the summer has had an impact on ice consumption. Although the demand for ice has trended upward compared to the Tsukiji Market days, Suzuki tells me that ice consumption itself has actually decreased as much as 30 percent in the summer and increased by 10 percent in the winter. It seems counterintuitive that consumption would be less in the hot summer months and more in winter—so why is this happening?

“So, unlike Tsukiji Market,” Suzuki says, “Toyosu Market is what’s called a closed-style facility, meaning the building itself has only a few openings to the outside. This is designed to protect products from high temperatures, wind, and rain, and make it easier to maintain freshness. In the wholesaler area, for example, where marine products are sold to restaurants and fishmongers, air conditioning keeps the temperature at 19–25°C (66–77°F) throughout the year, so it’s cool even in extremely hot summers when the outdoor temperature reaches over 35°C (95°F), and conversely is warm in winter.”

Aha, so that’s why!

Toyosu has been designed as a state-of-the-art fish market, well-equipped with innovations. Parking lots and cargo sorting areas are located close to the sales floor, a highly convenient distribution set-up that facilitates the movement of cars and cargo. Plus Toyosu is equipped with facilities that Tsukiji Market did not have, such as those for processing, sorting, and even packaging.

“Toyosu Market has been reborn as a more user-friendly market compared to Tsukiji Market, but the distribution of marine products and ice has always been, and will continue to be, part of the package. Looking into the future, we would like to continue to provide a stable supply of high-quality ice that meets the needs of our customers,” Suzuki says, concluding our conversation with a strong expression of his determination.

Ice is not the only thing keeping seafood cool at Toyosu Market. Last stop on our visit is Tokyo Kuuki Corporation, which sells within Toyosu the styrofoam boxes used as containers for storage and transport of marine products.

We meet with the company’s president, a man named Ishii, who at the time of our October 2024 interview is seventy-eight years old. Ishii started working part-time at the company at the age of sixteen. His father had founded the company alongside a friend in 1951, barely into the post-war period. Ishii officially joined the company after his university graduation in 1968 and has been working there ever since—an almost sixty-year career that has made him a veritable walking encyclopedia of all things fish market.

When we go to meet Ishii, the first thing that catches my eye upon stepping foot in the warehouse are the mountains of styrofoam boxes piled high to the ceiling. Shapes and sizes both large and small are sorted and stacked together, and I am told that an entire mountain of tuna boxes, which are used with especially high frequency, completely sells out in just two to three days.

Made up of countless fine grains of polystyrene foam, 98 percent of styrofoam is air, making the containers excellent for insulation and shock-absorption, as well as extremely lightweight and long-lasting. Although indispensable for fish markets, they did not exist when Ishii started working sixty years ago. Instead, wooden boxes and barrels were the norm.

“When I first started as a part-timer, it was in Tsukiji, at Tsukiji Market before it moved to Toyosu. At that time, this wasn’t a container selling business like it is today, but a container collecting business. In those days, we would go around the market and collect the empty wooden boxes and barrels that the various fishing ports had used to transport their fish to Tsukiji Market, and return them to the carriers for a fee. That is the origin of the company name Kuuki, which means empty container,” says Ishii.

“I was also in charge of converting crates for salmon delivered in the fall and winter from the northern Hokkaido and Tohoku regions into containers for raw tuna for the traders in the market. During the peak season, we would make several hundred boxes in a single day, so we were very busy, working over twelve hours a day from around five o’clock in the morning to five or six in the evening. When I still couldn't make it in time, I would work on Sundays, no day off.”

Around when Ishii moved up from his part-time position and officially joined the company in 1960, Styrofoam was gradually beginning to make an appearance as a new material. Little by little the wooden boxes for transporting fish were replaced by ones made of Styrofoam, barrels gradually changed from wood to plastic, and Ishii’s job became more complicated as it shifted from collection work to sales work.

Looking back at that period, Ishii says, “We had been using wooden boxes for a very long time, so at first Styrofoam boxes were not readily accepted. When wooden boxes were the norm, everyone at the fish market carried them around using a tool called a hand hook, which had a wooden handle and a sharp iron hook shaped like a sickle that hooked onto the box. Since we hadn’t yet gotten out of the habit of using that, there would be all these accidents around the market where the hook would accidentally make a hole in the Styrofoam box, spilling the water inside or scratching up the fish. Also, since the Styrofoam boxes had to be carried by hand, people said the work of lifting them up and down put strain on the lower back, they were bulky, they got in the way—they were unpopular. And it’s the same with any new product, but they were expensive when they first came out.”

In an effort to popularize Styrofoam boxes at the fish market, Ishii and his colleagues went around giving lectures to market vendors on their use and merits and actively engaged in sales promotion. But Ishii says what really changed the course of things was that the fishing ports themselves, positioned as they are as the shipping source of the market’s marine products, actively began using Styrofoam boxes.

“Many older women work at the site of production, where the fish are caught, so Styrofoam probably got popular because it’s lighter than wood. And in the end, the lifeforce of marine products is freshness, right? So once the market realized that not wood, not anything could beat Styrofoam for its overwhelmingly high cold-retention, the use of Styrofoam in the market caught on all at once, and by the early 1980s nearly 100 percent of boxes were Styrofoam.”

Which brings us to the Toyosu Market of today, where the packing of marine products in Styrofoam is a given. So what happens to the used boxes? According to 2023 data, Toyosu Market generated a total of 1,615 tons of Styrofoam waste in just that year. All that waste is processed and compacted at the market's factory, which handles six to seven tons per day, and then exported to regions such as Southeast Asia, where it is used as raw material to make frames for mechanical goods like bicycle lights, as well as toys and other items.

In the days of Tsukiji Market, the Styrofoam waste the market generated was also burned and processed for disposal within the market, a task handled partially by Ishii’s company. But in recent years, as awareness of environmental issues spreads worldwide, the newly inaugurated Toyosu Market, with its solar panels on the roof to supply electricity internally, and its green roof to help prevent heat island effects, is equipped with various measures to protect the environment and use resources efficiently. One such initiative, Ishii tells us, is the installation of a recycling facility for used Styrofoam products.

Just then, the ring of a phone suddenly resounds through the warehouse. It seems a new order has come in.

“Sorry,” Ishii says when he hangs up, “I’ve got to run and bring the product to the customer.” So saying, he hops in a small truck called a turret, zooms to the back of the warehouse, and quickly loads parcels containing two types of Styrofoam boxes onto the vehicle’s cargo tray.

“Besides Styrofoam boxes,” Ishii says, “we also carry paper for wrapping sashimi fish filets, robust waxed bags, plastic bags, plastic barrels, cardboard boxes—basically any and all kinds of wrapping and packing materials. Those are all the result of stocking anything a customer wants, when they want it. Once we’ve got a product, we never want to say we don’t have it the next time an order comes in, so even if just one person uses it, we make sure to keep it in stock. Keeping up with the times, the number of products we handle has increased steadily and the nature of our work has changed. But from the old days to now, the spirit of ‘customer first’ hasn’t changed a bit.”

The moment he finishes speaking, Ishii climbs back into the turret with a cheery, “Bye, then!” As he zooms off to meet his customers, not a hint of age is betrayed by his jaunty figure, the very picture of the vigorous Edo fish market man of old.

Our journey into Toyosu Market gave us a precious glimpse into the inner workings of Japan’s leading fish market, one that has only piqued my interest more.

Everyone who let us hear their stories spoke lightly, but behind their words, I got a strong sense of the seriousness they put into and the pride they take in their work. Before I knew it, their liveliness and charm made even me, the interviewer, feel refreshed.

From sashimi to sushi to all Japan’s innumerable delicious seafood dishes, it is the work of these individuals at the fish market that turns that cuisine into reality. When I think about it, I cannot help but feel a deep sense of gratitude and respect.

While preserving the traditional techniques that have been in place since the Tsukiji Market days, Toyosu Market has taken on more and more new initiatives to keep up with the changing times, too. Now that I know about these wonderful professionals, I am very much looking forward to seeing how this fish market will change and develop in the future.