The Hiramasa king­fi­sh, also known as yel­low­tail amber­jack. Artwork: Monique Baumann 

Mise En Place with
Luca Bianchi

Recorded by Barbara Halter

Elegant balan­ce. The Hiramasa king­fi­sh is the diplo­mat among fish – it pairs beau­tiful­ly with ever­ything and ever­yo­ne. I par­ti­cu­lar­ly app­re­cia­te its ele­gant balan­ce: it is fat­ty enough to be suc­cu­lent and aro­ma­tic, yet so clean and fine in fla­vor that it never feels hea­vy. Originally, the king­fi­sh – also cal­led yel­low­tail amber­jack – hails from the Indo-Pacific regi­on. Alongside Hiramasa, the­re are the Hamachi and Kanpachi varie­ties, which dif­fer in fat con­tent and tex­tu­re. Our Hiramasa king­fi­sh comes from a sus­tainable farm in Denmark and is deli­ver­ed to Switzerland three times a week by land. A who­le fish weighs appro­xi­m­ate­ly three to four kilo­grams, with fil­lets ran­ging from 700 to 900 grams.

Luca Bianchi, 5th Generation Bianchi

Aroma of salt and sea. Good qua­li­ty is reco­gni­zed by bright, glas­sy eyes and deep red gills. The fle­sh is pale pink to slight­ly whitish and has a firm, com­pact struc­tu­re. It must never be mus­hy or show dark oxi­da­ti­on streaks. Premium king­fi­sh has a light­ly sal­ty oce­an scent – and cer­tain­ly not a fishy one. That is crucial!

Raw or light­ly seared. From the king­fi­sh, the fil­let is pri­ma­ri­ly eaten; the bel­ly flap is fat­tier and the loin, mea­ning the back fil­let, is lea­ner. In gene­ral, the king­fi­sh lends its­elf to ver­sa­ti­le appli­ca­ti­ons, such as sushi, sas­hi­mi, cevi­che, or car­pac­cio. For gril­led dis­hes, con­nois­seurs often reach for the col­lar – cal­led „Kama“ in Japanese – or use the car­cas­ses for a stock. When it comes to pre­pa­ra­ti­on, I belong to the less-is-more camp. The fish is superb raw. It beco­mes even more exci­ting when light­ly tor­ched using the Aburi tech­ni­que. Very brief sea­ring – tru­ly just a few seconds on the skin – crea­tes an incre­di­ble inter­play of cris­py tex­tu­re and suc­cu­lence. What one should avo­id: over­coo­king it. Because that strips the king­fi­sh of pre­cis­e­ly what defi­nes it.

A hint of gin­ger. With spi­ces, I recom­mend a mini­ma­list approach: salt, a touch of yuzu citrus, a hint of gin­ger or sesa­me – often that is all it takes. Miso or soy also pair very well. I enjoy Hiramasa as sas­hi­mi with yuzu and sea salt, seared on the skin with fen­nel and lemon, or as tar­ta­re with avo­ca­do and lime. I ser­ve the fish in a way that keeps its qua­li­ty visi­ble: clean pla­tes, pre­cise cuts, a few tar­ge­ted accents. Above all, one should not drown the king­fi­sh in sau­ce. My tip for the kit­chen: work with a sharp kni­fe – a dull bla­de ruins its texture.

Unforgettable. I had my finest king­fi­sh at „Mylos By The Sea“ on the Greek island of Leros. The restau­rant spe­cia­li­zes in dry-aged fish. They hang the king­fi­sh for ten days, let it dry slight­ly, sli­ce it raw, and ser­ve it as a deli­ca­te car­pac­cio with a touch of lemon oli­ve oil, toa­sted capers, and sea salt. A poem!