Hiromi_X

I haven't had sushi in ages, so my sponsor and I went to Musashino to get some the other night, and as an extra thpecial treat, Ray's in town, so I dragged him along. It was insanely crowded and there was a long wait for seats, so we people-watched and pointed out particularly gruesome specimens to each other.

This might be bad behavior particularly considering we're all reformed drunks trying to purge character defects, but recreational misanthropy is an art form. Plus, it's actually egalitarian in a way. For instance, you never make fun of people for things they can't help -- physical shape, looks, ethnicity, any handicap. On the other hand, things like clothing, hair, comportment, and general behavior are fair game. "Progress, not perfection."

The waitstaff at Musashino are uniformly young, Asian, female, petite, and cute. This can't be coincidence. Our teeny, doll-like waitress brought us hot hand towels. God, I've missed those. I've always loved that particular part of Japanese restaurant service, especially getting the occasional chilled towels in the summer. I tried to figure out the ethnicity of our waitress. I concluded Vietnamese. My dining companions were probably wondering why I was objectifying her like that, given my hatred of being asked "what" I am, but it's something we Asians do to each other. We like to speculate on what sort of Asian a person is, and we like hapa*-spotting. [Note: I'm gonna delete any comments whining about how minorites are able to do to each other things that non-minorities can't do.]

We were silly to not have ordered edamame or something, since it took forever to get our sushi. Plus, being recovered alkies, we couldn't even get a buzz on to make the wait pleasant. Instead, we were reduced to looking for Shiatsu pressure points to suppress hunger.

Here's what I eventually got: salmon skin hand roll (which was fucken fabulous), a marinated maguro (I don't like plain maguro, although toro is always welcome), fatty salmon, hamachi (they had hamachi cheeks on the menu, but were out that day, to my crushing disappointment), spicy lobster, tai (red snapper in this case -- actual tai isn't red snapper, but one of its relatives), and tempura softshell crab roll. There might have been more, but I don't remember, 'cause the other sushis were eventually overshadowed.

Ray likes uni. By "like" I mean he'll order like seven or eight and might spear your hand with a chopstick if you try to cockaroach** one. And after he polishes them all off, you can see him getting restless, eyes darting around, as he mentally weighs an uni-heavy restaurant bill against things like mortgages and clothes for his kids.

I've always said I hate uni, that it tastes like the bottom of a fish tank. But after uni-related conversations with Ray and Syl, we came to the mutual conclusion that I probably have had bad uni. I've eaten it multiple times, with retch-inducing results. I'd felt like I'd given it more than enough chances. I've also had crab innards (kanimiso in Japanese, the crab equivalent of tomalley) another retch-worthy experience, so I have viewed sea creature innards with suspicion.

Anyway, Ray offered to order one for me, like a crack dealer offering a free sample. He actually offered me half of his four, but I said, no, I'll just have the one. It lay lightly and delicately in its little nori nest. Unlike the other unis I've had, which were grainy and somewhat dry-looking, this one looked lustrous and moist. Here goes, I thought and popped it in my mouth.

Brok da mout***! Luscious briny creaminess! So ONO****!

I did not have just "the one."

Why am I so excited that I wrote a long-ass post about this? You have to understand that I love the ocean. It pulls at me in a primal way; I felt that pull when I went sea kayaking. You also have to understand that food also pulls at me in a primal way. That little urchin contained the ocean in microcosm. People like Ray and Syl aren't crazy, I've just had the cosmic bad luck to have eaten bad uni each time. A wave of remorse washed over me as Ray reminded me that I have lived years in Japan and could have gotten the good stuff, had I not had uni-phobia. I'd been a total fool. I'm officially converted, and will henceforth join the Uni Cult.

This was most instructive. It makes me think I've had bad crab innards, too, so kanimiso here I come.

**cockaroach = pidgin for "steal." Upon discovering a missing uni, a Hawaiian might angrily say, "Who ben cockaroach my uni???"

***brok da mout = "break the mouth," meaning "extremely tasty".

****ono = also means delicious.