Hooked!

Bryan, if you are able to get on line and read this, you'll either be completely ashamed or amused. Or maybe both.

I bought grocery store prepackaged sushi. And ate it. And liked it. Not just once, but twice.

It started with a little wasabi craving. I just started idly thinking about that nasal-clearing, top-of-your-skull lifting blast, and then wishing I could enjoy it again. Then I thought about the sweet pickled ginger, and the salty soy sauce, and the way the short sticky rice binds all those little unidentified morsels of meat and crunchy veggies together, and the delicate coating of white and black sesame seeds, and the next thing you know, I was standing in the deli area of a local grocery store, looking over the selection.

They actually had an eel roll. They also actually had a raw tuna ensemble. But I stuck with a nice, safe thing they called a California roll. Everything fully cooked. I did have my limits. Nothing raw unless it was closer than 1500 miles from where it was probably caught, and served in a reputable establishment.

I could see that the avocado was slightly discolored, and the nori had slightly stained the rice with a muddied color, but here's how badly I was craving it: I bought it anyway. And ate it with a FORK, with each slice liberally swished in a slurry of soy and wasabi paste, conveniently included in packets.

Other than a vague, pasty 'preserved' flavor, it hit the spot. And took care of the craving.

Until two days later.

I decided to see what another grocery store had to offer, and their little trays looked much fresher and nicer. I grabbed a large round sampler, and after making sure the wasabi, soy sauce, and pink pickled ginger packets were tucked among the colorful little rolls, I rushed home. That night, once again, armed with my big ol' American fork, I dug in. I even shared some with Tim. This stuff was much better. Again, all fully cooked, nothing scary or questionable. There were even some shrimp nigiri tucked in there, next to a lovely swatch of bright green grass-shaped plastic, the purpose of which I could not guess, other than to provide color contrast to the pink of the shrimp? Our one complaint was that the rice tasted like it had been overly sweetened.

Of course I realize nothing like this can remotely replace the beautiful, freshly prepared rolls we enjoyed in a real sushi restaurant, and it was definitely not the same without a whole group of friends sharing everything, shelling edamame and swilling sake like there's no tomorrow. Of course not.

Tim looked up some restaurants that serve sushi in the greater Detroit area yesterday. Look out!

"The pleasant experience of eating something you have never had before, will extend your life by 75 days."

Japanese proverb.