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My sushi Awakening came, I sheepishly admit, not until I was in my college years.
Prior to that great day, if you had once asked me to tell the difference between unagi and nigiri, I may have guessed that they were characters in the latest Karate Kid sequel, you know, close friends of Mr. Miyagi. Actually, my ignorance spread far beyond that, leaving my taste repertoire completely void of all Japanese cuisine. In my defense, I had an extremely unadventurous upbringing, in which the total extent of my family's forays into the world's broader palette of flavors included no more than Chinese fried rice and lo mein. A peek into my parent's spice racks will find their home cooking to be completely lacking in just that - spice. I think they've got basil, garlic salt, terragon, peppercorns, allspice, and... nope, that's it. And rice variety? Well, there's none other than Uncle Ben's Minute-Rice. I can almost hear my sweet mother - "What's the difference? Just cooking time, right?"
Oh, I have to simply take a deep breath, bite my tongue, throw up my proverbial hands and tell myself, "It's okaaaay. Just let it be." Because I grew up and passed out of that naive phase in which I would say to any and all new foods, "I don't like it," without even trying it... but my parents have not.
When it comes to sushi, I'm almost certain neither of my parents have ever even tried it. They're in their fifties. This baffles me. But then, it means I feel a little less embarrassed to admit that I didn't lose my sushi virginity until I was nineteen. I've had a lot more experience since then. You could say I've been around the block, so to speak. Now, give me a half-decent hand-roll, nothing fancy, and I immediately sushi-gasm. I don't even need a cup of sake, first, to put me in the mood. Don't be put off if following the meal I pat my belly and drift off into a sushi coma, a placid grin spread across my face.
All sex-refences aside (sorry, where did they come from? It's too easy to equate the pleasure I get from that little nasal zing of wasabi to the chills that run up my spine when... oh, hey, let's keep this family-friendly!) ...
It was my friends who influenced me. I blame (read: THANK) them for introducing me to the melt-in-your-mouth goodness of sushi that I had been missing. Suffice it to say, since my very first cautious bite (read: gobble) of a california roll - I have to laugh a little because I thought I was being gutsy enough with that - I have been a faithful follower. They said, "Try it, you'll like it, everybody's doing it, it's totally natural" and I went "Daaaaaaaaamn, that's good stuff."
Ah lak it ahlot - that's my mouth full of salmon nigiri, saying, "I like it a lot."
If money and the body's vomit reflex were not an issue, I could just eat and eat and eat and eat, until I closed down a sushi joint. In fact, a close-knit few have witnessed me gorge myself on twenty-plus pieces (I won't let myself take an actual count) of maki in one sitting. I can't take all the glory of such a fantastic glut, because my good friends and husband have matched me at it, piece by piece. I assure you, I didn't purchase all that sushi at a restaurant. GOD NO, I couldn't afford that. I can only indulge in such a way during our super-awesome All-You-Can-Roll Sushi Nights that my husband and I frequently host. Last time, we had to cover the remaining sushi half-way through the evening with a plate to take a necessary break (an intermission, if you will) before *GROAN BELCH* finishing off the delicious bounty. The "out-of-sight = out-of-mind" notion, understand? It's always surprising, really incredible and quite pleasing actually, how much (a plethora) [of] sushi we can yield with just a few bucks worth of ingredients (especially since we purchase the fixins at an asian market as opposed to our neighborhood high-end natural food grocer!) We've made it a pot-luck where everyone brings their own favorite filling - we provide the prepared rice and nori sheets with appetizers and a few fillings we have on hand - and our investment was no more than 10 dollars. How awesome is that?
Guess what? You can do it, too. Did you see it coming? That long-winded intro was all to lead up this: How to Host Your Own All-You-Can-Roll Sushi (Makizushi) Night... now in it's own easy-to-access, separate post
