Sushi FAIL!
A long time ago in a galaxy not-so-far-away (Sudbury), I went out with a group of my new co-workers and had sushi for dinner. That dinner led to the worst case of food poisoning I’ve ever had [1]. From that point on, I associated, perhaps unfairly, sushi with a rather unpleasant experience.
Fast forward a few years. Every time I went to Ottawa or otherwise met up with Julie, she was always suggesting that we should go for sushi. Being somewhat reticent, I always declined. So this past weekend, on my way home from the Knitter’s Frolic with Fineskylark and her fiancee, when they suggested we stop at a sushi place in Barrie, it seemed like a perfect time to get the hell over my squeamishness about sushi. They offered to order some things we could share, and then I could decide if I wanted to order some pieces for myself. Fair enough.
The verdict? FAIL! I was okay with the first two or three pieces (a Bonsai roll, a Cowboy Roll, and a California Roll), but something… felt off. The Shrimp Tempura roll stuck in my throat, and the last one (I’ve forgotten what it was) did not go down easily. It wasn’t so much the taste – they all tasted fine – but there’s something about the texture of the rice and the seaweed that made me very uncomfortable. Maybe it’s just a psychological thing, like tofu (which I’ve overcome and now like) and driving over the Burlington Skyway (which I can just about do without my knuckles turning white), but even the second piece of the California roll I had later didn’t sit well in my mouth.
It’s so pretty though, so I will continue to look at it and be awed.
[1] Granted, I don’t think it was the sushi that made me sick, but more likely the chicken teriyaki I also had.
