Kyoto: Sushi Cooking Class with Kaori in Local Home Kitchen

Summary

Make sushi in Kyoto with Kaori, learn table customs, cook & eat together

You’ll join Kaori in her Kyoto home for a hands-on sushi cooking class where you’ll laugh over imperfect rolls, learn real Japanese table manners, and share stories around her kitchen table. Expect gentle guidance, new flavors (and maybe a few language slip-ups), plus recipes and tips to take home with you.

Step-by-step itinerary

Day 1 — Authentic Japanese cooking experience

• Arrive at Kaori’s kitchen
• Learn to make sushi and soup
• Prepare pickled ginger
• Study Japanese table manners
• Discover Japanese cuisine culture
• Enjoy Kaori’s hospitality

Top questions

Is this sushi cooking class held in central Kyoto?

Yes, the class takes place in Kaori’s home kitchen located in a back alley in central Kyoto.

Do I need any previous cooking experience?

No prior experience is needed; Kaori guides everyone step by step.

What dishes will we make during the class?

You’ll make several types of sushi, soup, pickled ginger, and learn about Japanese cuisine culture.

Is the class taught in English?

Yes, instruction is provided in English throughout the session.

Are dietary requirements accommodated?

Please advise any specific dietary needs at booking so adjustments can be made if possible.

How many people are usually in each class?

The maximum group size is 13 people per booking.

Are recipes provided after the class?

Yes, you’ll receive recipes so you can try making these dishes at home.

Is transportation included or nearby?

No pickup is included but public transportation options are available nearby.

What’s included

Your day includes all ingredients for cooking several types of sushi along with soup and pickled ginger, an aperitif on arrival plus Japanese green tea during your meal. You’ll get printed recipes to take home and spend time learning directly from an experienced English-speaking instructor right inside her Kyoto kitchen before sharing what you’ve made together around her table.

What’s the experience like?

“Don’t worry if your rice falls apart — even my husband still struggles,” Kaori grinned as she handed me the bamboo mat. I’d just tried to roll my first maki and, honestly, it looked more like a seaweed burrito than anything you’d find at a Kyoto sushi bar. Her kitchen was warm — not just from the steam but from the way she laughed at my clumsy chopstick grip. There was this faint smell of vinegar and toasted nori everywhere. It felt nothing like a formal class; more like being invited over by someone who genuinely wanted you to get it right.

We were only five people that morning (I hear sometimes it’s up to thirteen), and everyone seemed quietly nervous at first. But Kaori broke the ice by telling us about her own first time making sushi as a kid — apparently, her mother still teases her about using too much wasabi. She showed us how to slice the fish (I hesitated; she nodded encouragement), then how to shape the rice so it wouldn’t fall apart when dipped in soy sauce. We made pickled ginger too — the smell surprised me, sharp but somehow sweet. At one point I tried to say “gari” in Japanese and got it totally wrong; Kaori just laughed and corrected me gently.

I didn’t expect to talk so much about table manners, but that turned out to be one of my favorite parts. She explained why you never stick chopsticks upright in rice (something about funerals — who knew?), and why pouring tea for others is polite here. It’s these little things that make eating in Japan feel different, I think. By lunch we’d all relaxed, swapping stories about our hometowns while sipping green tea that tasted grassy and almost bitter but good after all that food. The light through her kitchen window made everything look softer somehow.