Speaking of Sushi

Not that you were. I wasn’t even. But, still, doesn’t it sound like a great idea? Tuesday I celebrated my new employed status by picking up the salmon nigiri off the sushi train at Sushi Train. My god it was marvellous. Eating sushi is a semi-erotic experience. The sweet ice. The pungent wasabi. The delicate, almost melting fish. They slice their salmon thin and while I know they are only doing this to save themselves money, I think I like it better that way. I like the balance. It is easier to bite through.

I am no stranger to Sushi Train. Every semi lunch time if I’m at Chermside I stop by to watch the parade of fish. I watch. I fantasize. I drool. I order a bowl of miso ($1.50) and they GIVE me a cup of green tea. How could I pass up this spot? In a country where you may be charged for a single packet of ketchup (tomato sauce), they GIVE you tea!



So, I ate my two pieces of sushi and toasted my sushi buddies: Tim, Susette, and Christine. They’ve never even met- but we’re all tied together by the same yen. (ouch)

Tim introduced me to sushi. He and Carolyn and I and other people I don’t remember drove to Raleigh one evening to a Japanese restaurant. (I’m guessing there’s a sushi bar in Durham now. There are several in Fayetteville- and Durham is WAY cooler.) I ordered something I can’t remember now- and at the time I was not impressed. Tim gave me a piece of his sushi. All I remember was the pop of the roe. It was enough to hook me. Later, after he moved to LA, we went out to an all you can eat sushi night. That has to be what heaven is like.

It was with Susette that I ate the sushi that made me cry. We were seniors in vet school about midway through our rotations. Long days. Long nights. Feeling useless and stupid and lost. We took off the evening and went out to dinner. To a nice dinner. I ordered sushi. I can’t tell you now exactly why I cried. Everything was so hard and I was so tired and the meal was a complete luxury. A total escape. And like when I heard “Domino” (Cocteau Twins) for the first time, I was carried away by the beauty of the experience.

Finally, Christine. Christine is my Cleveland sushi partner. I passed the virus onto her not long after we met. She’s now more dedicated than I am and makes rolls at home. But, she doesn’t eat meat/fish- so sushi together is in part a parallel sushi experience. I like a cucumber roll or avocado roll- but I long to share my yellow tail or salmon or eel.

And, Kevin? He’ll eat sushi. He’ll eat just about anything that isn’t made with red beets (beet root). He just doesn’t swoon. It sort of takes the romance out of the experience- like it was just a small, raw, fishy burger. So, I’ll watch out for my next sushi buddy. It’s a big country- with lots of sushi trains.