Wiry and frenetic in a white headband, Yamazaki Yasuhiro presides over his corner stall. Around him underlings cut and package fish. Like much of Tokyo, his stall is not exactly cramped but has little space to spare. He navigates through a maze of tanks holding twitching prawns and seething crabs; blue buckets in which fish swim in anxious tight circles, as if aware that plates and chopsticks await; and stacks of white boxes packed with seafood of all kinds—apologising for his paltry inventory. A typhoon the previous day grounded planes across Japan, halting deliveries. What looks like abundance is only a tenth of his usual daily trade, Mr Yamazaki explains.
