The Boston Diaries

The ongoing saga of a programmer who doesn't live in Boston, nor does he even like Boston, but yet named his weblog/journal “The Boston Diaries.”

Go figure.

Monday, September 10, 2001

“Sushi sushi sushi!”

As Spring says in her journal entry today, I was more or less Shanghai'ed to Mr. Sushi for a late lunch. It was rather disconcerting to see a menu filled with almost nothing but sushi. I was able to find something to my liking though: Teriaki Steak.

Now, the reason I dislike Japanese food goes to my general belief that animal based foods should be cooked before consuming. It also has something to do with very unfamiliar tastes and textures evident in Japanese (and to an extent in other Asian countries) cuisine.

Maybe six, seven years ago I was invited to lunch by the FAU Japanese Studies program, since I had several friends in the department, including the dean.

So we go to this Japanese restaurant to experience an authentic Japanese lunch. Never before have I ever so wished not to eat a meal. First, slimy cold brown noodles with a cold white sauce on top. Then a bowl, filled about a quarter to half an inch of broth with an artisitic arrangement of … vegetable cubes I suppose. Bitter mellon. Other, less identifiable bits of vegetation. Fried tofu, crusty on the outside, liquified on the inside. My Western palette found it quite disturbing. Then what was probably a Japanese quiche—a tall glass, into which I suspect raw egg was placed inside, along with unidentifiable vegetable matter and shrimp, then cooked in the glass. Serve.

And it went on and on. Plate, bowl, cup and saucer of alien food placed before me. Unlike my friends in the Japanese program, I'm not adventuresom enough to try exotic food stuff like whale sperm, raw puffer fish or octopus eyes. Cow and chicken is good enough for me. With the occasional lamb or pig.

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