ncm

This is more a sashimi story than a sushi story. When my husband and I moved to Tokyo in the eady 80s we were taken to a sushi bar by friends - a mixed Italian/Japanese couple. Neither of us had ever eaten sushi before, and we loved it! We developed quite a taste for both sushi and sashimi, as well as other Japanese food and cooking styles.

After a few months some Japanese friends took us for dinner to a highly regarded restaurant. I ordered sashimi but don't remember which kind of fish. Well, what arrived was the whole fish, with slices cut into it. Hmm.. original presentation. As I got ready to dive in, I noticed that the fish *was still moving*. Oh dear. Well, it certainly was fresh, no doubt about it. I glanced up and our Japanese friends were discreetly watching me to see if I could handle it. Aha, a challenge. Praying that the creature would perish fast. please, I went ahead and ate a slice. It was delicious.. but a rather nerve wracking experience.

Sunday, June 3, 2007 - 10:00 AM

Japan is not just Sushi

A couple of years ago I had a rare opportunity to visit Japan to visit a friend who was teaching English in Osaka. She had 2 Japanese friends who took us around and showed us the real Japan. One of the rare treats that we experienced was staying in a Traditional Ryokan in Kyoto's Gion District. Foreigners are not allowed to stay in these Inns- because the Japanese think we do not know proper etiquette or manners. There are signs everywhere making sure you do not wear your yukata (robe made out of cheap cotton-that looks similar to a kimono-but is definitely not one) outside the inn. I just laugh at thought of what the vision would be like. We were able to stay there because one of our Japanese friends had an Uncle in the Inn business and was able to make the reservation for us. We had our own private Zen garden outside our room to contemplate while dining in our room on low tables and tatami mats. The meal was a tradtional japanese meal with little plates- I would call it 3 different courses or trays that they brought us in our room-everything is about presentation- it was amazing! I have a little book of Japanese foods - I think there are about 30 different styles of cuisine that are just as distinct as sushi. I don't remember eating any sushi while there- there was some sashimi, and I had REAL ramen noodle soup with fresh pork- it was divine. I figured I could have sushi in the US but when was I going to have real Shojin Riori (vegetarian monk cuisine served at monasteries) or Suki Yaki?

Saturday, June 16, 2007 - 07:23 PM

mac@mcedit.com

This is something that happened in the late 1950s while I served on a US Navy destroyer. Shortly after arriving in Yokosuka I met a man, named Tony, who turned out to be fairly high up in the Yamaguchi-gumi, a yakuza clan from Kansai that was just then moving into the Yokohama region. Somehow, we began good friends, and spent many hours in the local bars, teaching each other our languages.

Called to Kyoto for some sort of yakuza summit meeting, Tony asked if I'd like to come along and see the fabled city with him. Sure, I said, and off we went. At a posh onsen-style hotel south of Kyoto Station, while Tony had his sit-down with his cronies (dark pin-striped suits, white patent leather belts, punch-perms, the whole thing), I retired to an upstairs room with a young lady he had arranged for me to meet. She was very small and delicate, the sort that many years later a gaijin friend of mine in Tokyo referred to as a "little lotus bud."

She spoke no English at all, and my Japanese was (ha!) not very good. But I had figured out a few things beyond "konnichiwa" and "so desu ne." One thing was the use of the suffix "tai" to indicate wanting to do something. For example, to say "want to see," you took the infinitive "miru" ("to see"), shortened it to "mi" and added "tai" = "mi-tai." "Want to eat" became "tabi-" (shortened from "taberu") plus "tai," and so on.

Therefore, while in the midst of getting up close and personal with my lovely new friend, she began to shout repeatedly a word that ended in "tai," I redoubled my efforts, the sweat rolling off us in buckets. Suddenly she jumped to her feet, screamed "dame, dame. dame!" grabbed her yukata and was out the door before I could catch my breath.

What the hell?

Later, over a beer, I told Tony about her strange behavior. "What was she shouting?" he asked. "I think it was 'itai," I said. He was quiet for a moment, obviously struggling not to laugh. Then, very soberly. he explained that "i" was NOT a conjugation of "iku" ("to go") to which the suffix "tai" could be added to mean "want to go."

"Then what does 'itai' mean?" I wondered.

Spraying beer all over, Tony exploded in laughter. But he never did tell me! It wasn't until many years later, in 1966 when I moved permanently to Japan and began studying the language in earnest, that I finally figured it out.

Itakatta deshta ne! Ah, those were the days.

Yoroshiku,

Mc

Monday, June 18, 2007 - 03:15 PM

Ann Silver of Seattle, WA

As told in person to Trevor Corson through a sign-language interpreter.

I am deaf and went to Japan in the mid-1980s to do an anthropological study of the lives of deaf people in Japan and to learn Japanese sign language. I lived with a deaf family there. I love sushi and like making it at home and told my Japanese family about that. They told me about a deaf sushi chef they knew, who had a sushi bar out in the country. We exchanged faxes with the sushi chef asking if I could come visit his sushi bar.

Finally we drove out there, it took a few hours, and when we got there, the chef invited us in and then locked the door and pulled down all the window shades so no one could see inside. He didn't want anyone to see us using sign language because he was very sensitive about being deaf in Japan, where deafness was considered a terrible deficiency.

The chef made wonderful sushi, just for us. Then I told him that I liked to make sushi myself, at home in America. He was so surprised. I asked him if he wanted me to make him some sushi right now. He said sure, so we switched places. He came out and sat at the sushi bar as if he were a customer, and I went back behind the bar. I was so short I could barely see over the bar.

I wet my hands and made some sushi and put it out on a platter and then handed it across the bar to the chef. When he saw it his jaw dropped! He was thrilled!

Tuesday, June 19, 2007 - 12:48 AM

D

My husband and I were attending Burning Man in the Nevada desert and a few blocks back from the main esplanade we heard people screaming at the top of their lungs, "WASABI!"

We investigated and found a whole camp devoted to the American horseradish version. To join the tribe you had to eat a huge serving spoon full of the green stuff in one bite, and then scream. There must have been upwards of 50 people waiting in line.

Thursday, June 21, 2007 - 12:10 AM

sunfell

I was fortunate to live in Okinawa as a military brat. One of the things I was taught was to always try new food, even if it was strange. Fortunately, I was not a picky eater, and enjoyed trying new things. My first taste of sushi was a futomaki roll that our Japanese landlady gave to me. It was a strange looking thing, but I ate it. And I loved it. She'd sneak me all sorts of goodies when she got a chance. "Here, try! You like! Good, Good!" I tried all sorts of wonderful goodies from sticky rice to umiboshi to dried squid. My mom often wondered why my appetite for dinner wasn't always great. but our landlady imparted to me a love of Japanese food that lives to this day.

When sushi started becoming popular in the States, it was wonderful to get to relive a childhood experience. I've become the 'sushi guide' to my local friends.

Thursday, June 21, 2007 - 05:17 PM

Chris

So, I read The Secret Life Of Lobsters. And I thought it was a great read. After that wonderful book, Trevor could write about sea slugs or yaks and I would still buy his book.

I saw The Zen Of Fish in my local B&N and had to pick it up. I've always been fascinated with Japanese culture, but was never interested in sushi in particular. I took my time with it, but it only took two days for me to read the whole thing. After that I was just dying to get my hands on some real honest-to-goodness sushi and sushi bar to try out my new found knowledge and interest on and at.

You see... before picking up The Zen Of Fish, I had never. never, never ever eaten or contemplated eating sushi.

So today for lunch I went in to The Far East Japanese Restaurant a local joint. Where you may sit at the bar and sample sushi off a conveyor belt. I had a few american rolls to start. Delicious. Then some pickled ginger to cleanse the palate. Next was a pair of tuna nigiri, I dipped them in soy sauce fish side down Oust as Trevor suggests). Very Tasty. Then some spicy tuna rolls. I felt these were yucky, I didn't like the taste. But two out of three ain't bad! Washed down with some imported Japanese soda.

I felt like it was a good experience. My next excursion into the world of sushi will be trying to find a local sushi bar where the Sushi Chef actually serves you so I can get some authentic omakase!

Kanpai!

Saturday, June 30, 2007 - 01:12 AM

Alan in California

My good wife is Japanese, and osushi is not uncommon in our house. albeit generally quite different from the sushi-bar fare (which we are quite capable of enjoying also). In any event, one day we were shopping at Costco and there was a costumed demonstrator set up in a cardboard sushi stand giving out samples of Costco nohmaki sushi. I don't remember how it happened, but we had sampled it before and knew how really awful it was (rice cooked to mush, LOTS of sugar, probably no vinegar). so we gave the display a glance and kept going. Of course there was "wasabi" to go with the "sushi." When we were about two or three meters past the sushi stand we heard the demonstrator shout out in a horrified tone "THATS NOT GUACAMOLE!!" So from time to time in our house we will say "Please pass the that's-not-guacamole."

niturnia

Hi Trevor, I'm currently enjoying The Zen of Fish and hope to soon try what I'm learning from it at one of our local sushi bars!

Here's the story of my first sushi experience... 6 years ago.. my friends Charlene & Carmen and I went to a little hole-in-the-wall sushi place near Philadelphia. Charlene ordered teriyaki but Carmen and I were going to try the sushi so we asked to be seated at the bar so we could watch the chef at work. Not knowing how to order or what the heck I was doing, I started marking rolls and sashimi on the order sheet until Carmen carefully took it out of my hand and told me that we were looking at $60 dollars worth of fish, and reduced my order by a lot.

I had grown up with Japanese neighbors in Puerto Rico,. and knew a few words which I practiced on the Japanese chef as we drank our beer and ate our food. He was impressed with my language skills and decided to serve us something very special, something reserved and very costly: sea urchin. He placed two tiny dishes of julienned cucumber in front of Carmen and I and served us two greenish blobs that had been nestled inside a rectangular wooden domino box with Japanese lettering.

Carmen quickly popped his urchin in his mouth. swallowed and thanked the chef. I tried to be quick about it but I've never been able to do shots of liquor and certainly cannot do "shots" of raw seafood. I nervously grappled with my chopsticks, picked up the sea urchin and put in on my tongue and attempted to chew it. It was like an ocean-flavored loogie and I swear I felt like I was going to hud all over the bar, the chefs glass case and beyond. It was horrific!!! The chef saw my hideous reaction and screamed: "CUCUMBA! CUCUMBA!!!" so I quickly picked up all the cucumber and shoved it inside my mouth. I suddenly handled those chopsticks like I'd been eating with them my entire life!

That poor chef was so disappointed. He had wasted two pieces of his most expensive seafood on a guy who didn't taste it and a girl who almost barfed. He didn't speak to us again after that.

Ever since then I've avoided the sushi bar and have gone straight for the tables where I've eaten cooked food, but now, thanks to your book, I'm hoping to have a more culturally appropriate experience and I already know, NO SPEAKING ANY JAPANESE AND ABSOLUTELY NO SEA URCHIN! GAHHHH!!!

Sunday, September 14, 2008 - 07:47 PM