foodie

I love different cuisines but the one that I keep going back to is sushi or nigiri.  It’s best eaten when I’m happy, sad, or just cause.

When I was at uni, I befriended a couple of sushi chefs and they were so happy to have me sample their latest creations.  Free sushi?  Yeah, sign me up.  They were creating the most elaborate dishes, it was insane.

I remember when I first moved to the LA area, we went to a hole in the wall sushi joint that one of my best friends has been wanting to take me to for years.  It was dark and tiny, there was limited seating and we bellied up to the counter for delectable omakase. 

The chef was a slightly older Japanese man who seemed bewildered when I sat down.  He began speaking to me in Japanese.  I didn’t know what he was saying.  Oh…here we go again.  Often times, people think I am Japanese based on my looks.   Even my own people think that I am Japanese. Le sigh.  I had to tell him, “So sorry, I’m not Japanese.  I’m Korean.”  He shook his head in disbelief.  

He told me in English that I looked like one of his ex girlfriends.  His face quickly turned red and I could sense the tension in the air.  I asked him if he wanted a shot of sake with me.  He nodded.  We all drank multiple shots of sake and were feeling pretty lit at this point.  I asked the sushi chef, “お勧めは何ですか (do you have any suggestions)?”.    I was having fun with him at this point.  I wasn’t Japanese but I knew a few words and phrases.  He had a cheshire cat grin and he said that he would make me something special.   

We drank way more sake than we should have and ate the most amazing nigiri, rolls, and sashimi that I have ever had in my LIFE.  In my drunken state, I was contemplating on having him move in with me if he’d cook every day.  I figured that would be a fair trade, no? 

He carefully placed these delicious morsels on my plate, at no point was my plate empty.  My belly was so full and I was in bliss.  I loudly said, “ごちそうさまでした (thank you for the meal)”.  He seemed pleased.  We closed the restaurant down and when it came time to pay our bill, I noticed that he didn’t charge me for my food.  I know that I ate at least a couple hundred dollars worth of fish…what he was offering to do was far too generous.  I left him a hefty tip that would have covered my portion and a substantial tip.  

When we got up to leave to go back home, I turned around as I neared the doorway.  I smiled, bowed, and said, “ありがとう ございます (thank you)!”  When our eyes locked, he had a crestfallen look on his face.  He said quietly, “Thank you for making my night.”