June 16, 2014


You would think, since I live in Asia, that I would be a sushi expert.

I'm not. In fact, until Father's Day weekend, I'd not even tried it. I've just always had a thing with eating raw animals. I still remember the first (and only) time I ordered tuna in a restaurant and the inside was warm and raw! I was shocked. I couldn't have taken a bite if someone paid me.

But here in East Asia, my friends Sonya and Anita order sushi all the time, and even my country boy husband eats it, swearing by the salmon. So I finally caved, and while the kids enjoyed their six-inch turkey-and-cheese sub sandwiches, I tried sushi (not purchased at Subway, by the way).

The verdict? One thumb up. On the basis of taste and texture alone (the fish eggs were cool, they popped between my teeth like bubble wrap) I would have given it two thumbs up, but the stomach ache I had later that evening lowered the rating. It could have just been bad sushi, but I don't think so, because my stomach only ached a little. It was as if it was saying to me, "Hey, I think you forgot to cook that stuff."

Will I eat it again? Probably, though I'll always prefer a nice grilled salmon steak with course grain mustard.