A Girl...

Sushi Hash

[NaBloTaeBo disclaimer: This entry was finished yesterday, but I couldn't post it because our stolen wireless wasn't working. I want my money back.]

Leah's Guidlines for Your Future Sushi Enjoyment:

--Ask a hot guy on a sushi date and offer to pay. Being generous will make you feel like a hero and you'll enjoy his enjoyment of it that much more.

--Sit at the bar. Sushi chefs go through years of intense training, and watching them do their stuff is like watching an artist sculpt, albeit with delicious sticky rice and dead fish.

--Start with a bowl of seaweed salad. It's a little bit o' rubbercrucherrificness, and nothing else I've ever come across has the same fun texture, except maybe the wee rubber bands my friend Kristen and I used to steal from her braces-wearing sister when we were eight because we thought we'd take on orthodontia ourselves rather than have a trained expert straighten our crooked chiclet teeth. (You can see how well that worked...) Sometimes the seaweed comes in fattish strips, but I think it feels and tastes best in short strings, glossy and opaque like a sucked-on gummy worm, only much, much thinner. If you don't like the sheet seaweed that usually holds the handrolls together, be assured that this is nothing like it and is worth a try.

[A short note about rolls (a.k.a. maki): Because I have a tiny stomach, I don't like to waste space on rolls. Also, after the legendary Bad Crabcake of '97, I haven't been able to eat crab or "crab" at all, and since most rolls come with crab (or "crab"), it's safest for me to just skip it. If, however, you have a large stomach and/or a small wallet and/or a pleasant history with crab (or "crab"), go ahead and partake of the rolls. They're filling, cheapish, and they have cool names like "Princess Flying Dragon of Firey Crab Guts." I will only eat rolls in the parking lot of Costco, and only after Simon's punched out the crabby middle and eaten it himself.]

--Sashimi comes first. Sashimi is just plain fish--no rice, no seaweed, no sauces or sprinkles. Octopus usually comes with some thin lemon slices, and everything is layed out on a bed of shredded radish and a few Japanese leaves (basil? mint?), although I usually skip the garnish, even though one of the chefs chastises me for ignoring his lovingly prepared canvas. Our sashimi course is usually a sampler plate with three slices each of five different fish, all chosen by the chef, but generally always tuna, salmon, yellowtail, octopus, and some sort of mystery meat. When we went for sushi last Wednesday, our mystery meat was striped bass. Now, if you haven't been paying very close attention to this point, please do so now: DO NOT GET THE STRIPED BASS. It smelled like poo and, oh god, it tasted like it too. And I don't mean it tasted "gross" or it tasted "a little funky." No; it tasted like poo, poop, shit, stool, fecal matter, whatever you want to call it. I just about lost it all over the bar, and I count it among my greatest accomplishments that I actually managed to swallow the whole piece. Although Simon concurred that it was horrible and not fit for human consumption, he had the other two pieces, just to be sure it was really poo he was tasting, WHICH IT WAS. This is one of the ways in which men are different from women.

--Onto the main attraction: nigiri. This is the strips of fish presented atop little rockets of sticky rice, and oh my lord, depending on the day, this just might beat out french fries as my favorite food ever. If you've only ever had California rolls or something else involving "crab," you owe it to yourself to try a piece of tuna nigiri. Every time I put that first bite in my mouth, it's all feels brand new to me. A smile turns my lips, my eyes twinkle, and I look over to see the same thing on Simon's face. Nigiri comes in pairs, and we usually work through our orders in tandem so we can discuss the intricacies of each fish--the way it looks, its cut and color (sounds like a diamond critique, doesn't it?), how soft it is, how the flavor dances on our tongues.

Some nigiri comes with special sauces and garnish (unagi/eel, for example), and some even comes cooked (shrimp), but in general, it's best with a small dab of wasabi and a tip dipped in soy sauce. Our favorite sushi chef taught us a technique by which we roll the chopsticks over the sushi so the way we hold the piece helps control the amount of soy sauce we absorb (general rule: keep the soy sauce away from the rice), but I'm pretty much retarded when it comes to using chopsticks anyway, so I usually just concentrate on not dropping anything on the table, which always happens anyway because, like I said, retarded. (Blame the sake?) The good news is, it's perfectly acceptable to eat nigiri with your fingers, so if you're the type that doesn't mind requesting gutter bumpers at the bowling alley, you probably don't need to futz with the stupid chopsticks. (Seriously, how come rice-based cultures are the ones that eat with the utensil most unsuited for rice consumption?)

--I'm told the typical "dessert" sushi is tamago, which is basically a rectangle of scrambled egg, like a sweet omlette and, actually, not at all unlike the egg layer of a Sausage, Egg, and Cheese McMuffin. (What's with all the McDonald's references when I talk about sushi?) We had this once at a restaurant, and it was good and fine but, again, not worth the tummy real estate when there was fish to be had. Also tasty are the rice-stuffed tofu bags (inari), which I'll eat by the pound when we make sushi at home but generally skip in restaurants in favor of something worth the money (two tofu bags in a restaurant will run you several bucks, versus a can of about fifty bags at the grocery store for the same price). Our general rule of thumb when sushi-ing out is to not let price ruin our experience of the meal. We can generally get a bowl of seaweed salad, a sashimi sampler, four or five orders of nigiri, a spider roll (for Simon), and a small bottle of sake for around $75. Yes, it's a lot when I can fill up for $3.50 at you-know-where, but it has never ever not been worth it.

If you're new to sushi and a little scared like I once was, one thing you might try is going to a Japanese restaurant that serves more than just sushi. If Simon and I are there we'll roll our eyes and look down our noses at you for ordering fried calamari and vegetable tempura with ramen and BBQ fucking chicken wings when there is sushi to be had, but just ignore us and get what you want so you don't leave hungry. For your sushi dish, the best thing to try is tuna nigiri (toro, maguro, or hamachi); leave the cod roe and the sea urchin topped with raw quail egg for another visit (or for never, if you're me). It's probably best to stay away from the poison blowfish too.

Finally, let me re-emphasize my first guideline of enjoying sushi: eat it in good company. If you don't have a hot boyfriend like I do, take someone else you really like and, most importantly, someone you feel comfortable with. If you're trying sushi for the first time, there will be safety in numbers, and if you're going for the fiftieth time and the chef happens to slip you some kind of ass-fish like striped bass, you will have someone to laugh and suffer with. And if you don't think you know someone like that, you're wrong. You know us. And remember: it's better if you pay.