Smells Like Fish

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"This is why many Japanese people's feet smell of vinegar."

I found the path of Enlightenment years ago, when first my friend Sissy and then my buddy Guy began hounding me to try sushi. Raw fish. Sliced up and balanced on a sticky wad of rice, and wrapped up with a strip of seaweed. Oh my, yum. Sounds delicious, doesn’t it? How did I resist for so long?

It is, in fact, a gradual addiction. The first time I tried it, with that adventurous spirit of “oh heck, how bad can it be?” I came away with a distinct “yeah, whatever” impression. I was not yet hooked. Even after subsequent sushi experiences, I still maintained a take-or-leave-it attitude toward the Sushi. It was not yet my Ultimate Satisfaction and Reason for Living on This Earth.

But gradually, the Sushi did take hold of me.

For some reason, sushi lovers do enjoy spreading their addiction around to all their friends. Sissy and Guy did it with me, and soon I had my frequent lunch companion Mr. Steve suggesting sushi for our lunch dates after I turned him onto the treat. I am in the process of introducing sweet Rosanna to the joys of raw fish as well, and she's a bit more of a challenge.

When Rosanna and I worked together, we would often go out for lunch so that I could grumble and groan with her about the Relentless Tease and she could mumble and moan about her own Lord Byron. No matter how much I wheedled and begged, she would not set foot in a sushi place. Finally my opportunity came when she took me to lunch on my birthday, giving me the right, of course, to choose where we’d go, and it should be no surprise that I chose Nagoya, a popular sushi/hibachi joint near our office. She was so freaked out at even being IN the place that she immediately called Lord Byron and told him, “You’ll never guess where I am right now…” She ate a delicious combination hibachi lunch while I gorged myself shamelessly on eel, white tuna, salmon and Philadelphia rolls. I could not get her to try even a nibble.

But I did get her to go back there with me again, and she did try one small crab roll at the end of our lunch. She pronounced it, “not that bad.” The next time, I got her to eat a small piece of eel. She picked up her phone and immediately shared the news with her husband: “Oh my god, baby, I just ate EEL!!!”

Just wait. She’s coming over to the sushi side, I can feel it. Soon she will be as addicted as I, then we shall spend many happy hours rolling around in raw fish, ginger, rice and wasabi, pouring soy sauce decadently upon our naked flesh with wild abandon.

My sister is coming next week to stay with me while I go through all my household possessions and decide what to let her keep for me. It’s funny, I immediately wondered if I’d have the opportunity to drag her out to eat sushi with me, see if I can get the beginnings of her addiction well underway too.