Nearly a half a kilo of Italian Mortadella later , I thought this evening that perhaps I should eat a little lighter. I don’t mean one of those little Bic lighters, but something with a little less fat and calories. Well, much to the chagrin of my Eastern Kentucky friends and family, I actually like sushi (I know, you’d call it “bait”). So, I went fishin’.
Having been in California for so long and having been an exchange student in Japan in college, I was somewhat acclimated to the idea of raw fish and just had a hankering. Besides, I didn’t want to cook nor did I want another Mortadella sandwich, I didn’t care how fresh the bread was. Nor did I care how good the half kilo of olives are that I proudly own.
Around the corner from my flat is a little sushi place. So I popped in. Fourteen AUS dollars later I was proudly walking up Darlinghurst Road with my dinner in the little “carry bag” that everyone else was using. All of a sudden I didn’t look so much like a tourist, except for my grin.
I seemed to wait a long time for my order and I was the only patron in the place. Little did I know that walking this little treasure home was only part of the fun. When I got back to my flat, opened it up, it was obvious it was freshly made, smelled of nothing but the sea, and the colors had a vivid freshness, I knew this was going to be a treat (can anyone from LA say Sushi Roku?).
It was so good. Exactly what the doctor ordered. Food is expensive here. But, I’ll tell you, the quality is superior to what we typically get in the US as a general rule. Ray’s Nana once told me, “you’ll never be unhappy with the best.” Poor thing, she was only 98 when she died, but she was smiling.