San Francisco Chronicle - (Sunday)
Briny & umami-rich firefly squid are here
Welcome back to our semi-regular Don’t FOMO ( fear of missing out) series. We’re once again encouraging readers to jump on food and drink that are available for only a short time in the Bay Area — or otherwise very hard to get. Check out our previous one here.
Fireflies herald summer, but firefly squids are another story entirely. The small bioluminescent cephalopods, known as hotaru ika in their native Japan, ascend from their deep sea abode every spring to spawn in Toyama Bay, illuminating the waters with otherworldly flickers of blue light.
During their four-month spawning season, which ends in early July, the squids are caught and shipped around the world so that aficionados can celebrate spring by gulping them down as pelicans would. Each squid looks like a toe with a crisp Bugle perched on top.
Out of its proper context and boiled, the squid is a glossy and squishy pulp of a creature; its dull burgundy coloring hides the stars within. Usually squids are served gutted, but these are often kept whole: After boiling, the innards turn creamy, giving each creature the quality of a gently poached egg yolk, quivering with anticipation of dripping down your chin. Since they’re kept whole, firefly squids don’t keep well, a nature that further limits their scope as an ingredient.
I’ve struggled to find them at restaurants, if only because it seems like I always show up just after the last one’s been sold. You can track them down by haunting the #hotaruika tag on Instagram, calling up your favorite Japanese restaurants or, if you’re desperate and a little bit goofy, setting up a Google alert for “firefly squid” plus your region so you’ll get emails anytime one shows up on a menu. In the Bay Area, a few restaurants bring in limited supplies of firefly squids, including Moku Yakitori-Ya and Ju-ni in San Francisco and Mujiri in Oakland. The squids can be served simply as sushi or sashimi; skewered in a row and grilled until the tiny tentacles crisp up like fried shallots; or lightly roasted over a wood fire until they take on the faint, astringent scent of smoke. Finally, I struck burgundy gold at Sushi Sam’s Edomata in San Mateo.
At Sushi Sam’s, the hotaru ika ($8) are served as nigiri, three souls to a life raft of rice. Since the season lasts until early summer, you can expect the squid to be available for the next few months. (Check the menu, posted online daily, before you go.) They’re expertly cleaned and dressed with rice vinegar and light miso, a tangy mixture that gives the dish a sharper, more angular flavor. I ate them sitting alone at the sushi bar, watching the chefs churn out plates of salmon rolls, tuna sashimi and yellowtail nigiri. Though it’s easy to love a richly marbled piece of salmon belly that melts in your mouth, the firefly squid’s special qualities — its briny, savory insides held in a body that keeps a sausage-like snap — are singular.
Thankfully, we have a little more time to seek out this delicacy in all of its forms.