I don't eat sushi, so I'll have to take the Chicago Sun-Times' word on this.

Seems that Chicago-area restaurants that serve red snapper aren't really serving red snapper at all, they're serving cheap substitutes! And it wasn't an isolated case. In fact, samples were bought from fourteen different restaurants in the city, and none of them were actually red snapper. They found this out by doing DNA tests.

Coming this fall: CSI: Sushi.

The FDA calls it fraud and they are investigating.

At a recent sushi dinner at Sasabune in Los Angeles, I passed my "butterfish" on to a dining companion because I had recently read a few Internet items regarding the fish.

A few years ago, there was a USDA warning about escolar, saying that many restaurants were mis-labeling it as "seabass." The mis-labeling wasn't so much the problem as was the GI problem that the fish caused in people when it was undercooked. Some of the fatty acids in escolar are indigestible by humans, and when they reach the colon, cause cramping and eerie, orange, oily diarrhea. Because the site where I read the information also mentioned "butterfish" alongside escolar, I was wary because not five or six days before, I had eaten butterfish sushi (raw, and not at Sasabune) and had similar GI problems for five days.

[via: Eating LA]

We've been making our way around the sushi bar here at slashfood, and preparation for Valentine's Day simply begs for a study in bivalves - clams, scallops, and those ever-so-aphrodisiac-al oysters.

"Gai" is a general Japanese term that refer to most of the clams. I very rarely see the kind of smaller clams that we put into chowders or batter and fry on a sushi menu. However, mirugai and hokkigai are regular offerings. Oysters are called "kaki."

Tired of tuna yet? I'm not. I could eat maguro and toro every day for a month. Okay, then I might need a little break because that's a lot of raw tuna, but I'd get back right on it, especially if you throw seared ahi into the mix and...shiro maguro.

"Shiro" translates into "white" in English. It's also called bincho maguro, but let's just focus on one thing at a time here. Shiro maguro is tuna, just like those ruby red tunas you see in the case, but the flesh is much much lighter, ranging from a pale peach to almost ivory white, thus the name "shiro."

Shiro maguro is one of my sister's favorite fish for sushi and she and I both get a little crazy when we see it on the menu or in the glass case. In sushi bars, it is often served as a specialty. Sometimes it is seared (like ahi), placed in its own special little dish, garnished with own special little sauce, and garnished with its own special chives. Now here's the thing. Shiro maguro is...albacore tuna. That's albacore tuna, as in the same stuff that Starkist slings in pull top cans at the supermarket!

An order of shiro maguro is $8. Eight dollars of albacore tuna could make tuna salad sandwiches for Mrs. Stanton's entire third grade class. For a week.

Eh. But you can't dip a tuna salad sandwich in soy sauce.

You're probably familiar with it as yellowtail, and if you're already sushi-savvy, you call it "hamachi," but the family to which this rich, velvety fish belongs is jack, a family that includes a few other fish that you definitely want to try if they're available.

Hamachi, Japanese amberjack, comes from a young fish. The flesh ranges in color from a pale ivory to a barely-there pink, and when it's fresh, is soft, smooth, and sometimes can be as rich as butter.

Another type of jack that is becoming increasingly popular (at least in these parts) is kanpachi, just called amberjack in English. My first taste of kanpachi was on a recent visit to Mori Sushi in West Los Angeles. It was similar in color to hamachi, a little firmer in texture (like the difference between maguro and toro in the tuna family), and absolutely delicious.

Lesser known of the jack family are aji and shima-aji. Aji is called horse mackerel in English, and shima-aji is the striped version of it. Both are lighter (not as rich and fatty) as hamachi and kanpachi, but a great addition to your meal if they're available.

While maguro is the standard tuna at the bar, if you're a sushi shark, then you know to ask for toro - the premium cut of tuna belly that doesn't even get a price on the sushi menu. Toro is A.Q. every day. In LA, I've seen two pieces of toro for $24.

Because it's from the belly, toro is fatty. Unlike maguro which, like a ruby, is shiny, deep, dark red, and almost semi-translucent, toro is more like a pink opal, lighter in color, sometimes almost white, and creamy opaque looking. When you dip it in your shoyu sara (Upside down, right?!? You have learned, Grasshoppa.), toro leaves behind a shimmering swirl of oil on the surface, and when it hits your tongue, it melts. Like butter. Like fatty, tuna butter.

There are two grades of toro. Chu-toro is slightly to the rear of the tuna and is less fatty, therefore less expensive (on the diagram, bottom half of the fish, orange section, second from right). Just anterior to chu-toro is o-toro, ultra premium, uber fatty tuna belly (bottom half of the fish, lightpeach section, third from the right). If it's o-toro is specified on the menu, order it. It'll be worth it. I promise.

Then again, you might not be able to eat regular old maguro ever again.

Most people who are new to sushi and sashimi start with tuna. When it's raw, tuna has a meaty, clean, and not-too-fishy taste. The light, white fish like halibut and sea bass have the same mildness in flavor, but we seem to be more familiar with tuna.

But when you sidle up to the sushi bar, you can't just ask the sushi chef for "tuna." You might as well go to Morton's and ask for "cow." Just like a side of beef can be a London broil or a filet mignon, so too does a tuna have different cuts.

Maguro is a general Japanese term similar to the general English word "tuna." It can be a yellowfin, a bigeye, and if you're lucky, bluefin.

Akami refers to any of a few cuts of tuna along the backbone. Not that you'd ever need to use these terms at the sushi bar, but senaka is the highest quality of the akami, followed by sekami, then finally seshimo. We're most familiar with this as the deep, blood-red meat that has an almost beef-like quality.

Or if you're Mrs. Lachey, like chicken of the sea.

Starting with light fish is always a good idea at the sushi bar, and since things like hirame are so mild and delicate in flavor, eating it as sashimi so as not to distract your tongue with sweet, vinegared rice is even better.

But the light fish are not just the flounder, fluke, and halibut. More and more popular in sushi restaurants now are other light, white-fleshed fish. Tai is snapper, and usually has a bit of pink in the meat, making it look almost like a peppermint candy when sliced. Sometimes it's called sea bream, but for some reason, that just doesn't sound appetizing. Bream. *ew*

Suzuki might make you think of violins, but at the sushi bar, it's commonly known as sea bass. But buyer, beware. There are lots of things called "sea bass" out there. If it tastes good to you, eat up and don't ask. But if you really care, you can only be sure that suzuki is true sea bass if it's from Japan.

Both of these fish are tender, and are often served with additional sauces since they are so mild. Ponzu is popular (the light citrus-y soy sauce) as are citrus flavored salts.

With all the "Do this" and "Don't even think about doing that!" are we actually going to get to eat something at the sushi bar? Yes, yes we are. But like all the dos and don'ts for how to eat, there are even a few about what to eat. They're not hard and fast rules, just some suggested guidelines. Like Maria with the Von Trapp Family, let's start with the very beginning...

It's a good idea to eat sushi from the lightest, mildest fish and work your way up to the stronger, oilier fish. That way, you avoid the risk of strong fishy flavors loitering about your palate and tainting subsequent flavors. Gari can only do so much to cleanse the palate.

The Japanese term for generic classes of white fish is shiromi, which means "seasonal white fish." You could ask the sushi chef for shiromi and he would give you whatever white fish is in season and freshest that day. Most likely, you will see the word hirame on the menu, which basically refers to any type of flat white fish like fluke or even flounder. However, technically, flounder is karei. Many restaurants serve halibut as hirame, but again, technically, halibut is dohyo, which I've never seen on a menu in my L.A. sushi adventures.

Confusing? In the end, they're all shiromi. And since they're all light and mild, do shiromi as sashimi (fish sans rice) to start.