For dinner on New Years Eve, I was fortunate to land reservations at a small sushi joint I like to frequent called Akasaka. It is pretty delicious (“it” being their sushi), but I recently discovered something that left me a little disenchanted: those who run Akasaka are not Japanese! Regardless of their race, they can roll some pretty good sushi.
What is it about raw fish that tastes so good!? It's as though part of the fish's soul is trapped in its raw meat. Sashimi is like butter, melting in your mouth, running its delectable juices all over your tongue saying, "Hi taste buds, nice to meet you!"
We ordered the Vegas Roll, which is the roll that took my sushi-virginity. I still remember the first bite of Vegas Roll going down my throat. I knew I was in love.
Despite the unfortunate news, it was a sweet night. I mean I'm 1/2 English, 1/2 Danish and 1/2 Irish and I can roll sushi with the best of them. If that's the case why should I be mad my sushi chef is not Japanese?