Confessions Of A Sushi Convert.

Even having been halfway raised in the Midwest and growing up in a Filipino household, my exposure to different cuisines was rather limited in retrospect. Of course, I didn't think so at the time; I proudly invited my friends to dinner and scooped traditional dishes like adobo and pancit onto their plates. At the same time I thought nothing of eating whatever was put on my plate at my friends' dinner tables, and heartily plowed through bowls of food when we ate at Chinese restaurants. Looking back though I realize that I'd been playing it safe (sweet and sour chicken isn't exactly the pinnacle of Chinese cuisine) and was sorely missing out.

Through out my formative years I'd definitely heard of sushi, but it had always remained an exotic, mysterious dish that I really had no interest in exploring. All I knew about it was that it was raw fish (OMG!!!) and that was the end of that. We don't really have a Filipino equivalent -- although some of our more culturally-traditional dishes probably come pretty close with the ewww factor to the uninitiated. But that didn't matter; I had no plans on trying raw fish and was happy with what I was already eating.

I took my first bite of sushi during a Spring Break road trip to the West Coast. One of the highlights was going to dinner with a large group of friends to a sushi restaurant in LA. It may have been the beer we'd been drinking at alarming rates but I was game to try. Someone ordered for me and my other sushi-virgin friends, and after a while dinner came out, artfully presented on square plates.

But tell me this doesn't look FANTASTIC [via]

The food we'd ordered were mostly different types of roll. I tried some of everything, and enjoyed all of it. It was hard to keep track of what was in each roll but they were all delicious, a tasty blend of flavors built upon the rice/seaweed base. I distinctly remember devouring a particular piece, then turning to a friend and asking him what I'd just eaten. "Eel," he said.

[Pause.] "Eel?" I wasn't sure I'd heard correctly.

"Yeah -- like, uh, an eel."

[Another pause.] "Okay." And I reached for another piece.

After that eye-opening experience, I was more eager to graduate to eating sashimi (the actual raw subset of food under the sushi umbrella) and surprised myself with more incredible flavors and textures. That first experience was over ten years ago and I haven't looked back since. Now I look for sushi restaurants whenever I have the chance (and the funds). Hell, I'll even run to Hy-Vee and buy some pre-made rolls to go when I'm really craving it. Of course it's not nearly as good as going to a restaurant and ordering something on the spot, but most of the time it's close enough. I actually did this last week; I walked to the checkout with a package containing two kinds of surimi rolls.

The cashier, an older gentleman, rang up the package. "Are these really that good?" he asked. "People buy a lot of these but I've never tried it."

I ended up talking with him for a minute or so, trying to convince him to buy some and just try it. After all, "Even if you end up not liking it," I reasoned, "At least you'll know you don't like it. But who knows, you could end up loving it. Anyway I think it's delicious." I hope he agreed with me, and maybe I've created a new sushi convert.

That would be sweet.

It's funny 'cause nowadays when someone mentions a food or cuisine that I've never had before, the first things out of my mouth are "Where's the restaurant?" and "When are we going?"

I've learned my lesson. Life's too short, man. Try it all -- at least you'll know.

Baby Steps To Sashimi.

Being at the hospital for twelve to thirteen straight hours sucks. Every other day after I finish my regular clinical internship hours from 7:00-3:30, I clock in and head directly to the mammography film library to work for a couple more hours and snag some extra cash as a Student Tech. I'm usually out by 5:30 or 6:00 at the latest, which is still early enough to run errands and whatnot before the day is completely done. However the guy who works the night shift had a family emergency and has been gone for over a week now, throwing the whole staffing schedule off.

In order to get things done in the library/admin office -- the most important of which involves preparing the next-day exam schedules for the various imaging services departments -- another Student Tech and I have been asked to stay extra late until the guy returns to work (no word from him so far). So yeah, while I get a bit more money out of it, leaving the hospital at 8:30 leaves me virtually no time nor energy to do things afterward. I don't want to complain too much though: The pay's pretty good for what it is, the people are cool, and it beats working part-time retail hands-down.

Anyway.

The most striking thing I've noticed about living (back again) in the Midwest is how culturally isolated the majority of the people here are. Not that they don't want to learn for the most part, but -- and please keep in mind I'm not referring to everyone -- they're so far removed from actual Asian cultural experience that their only exposure is through the occasional Asian/Asian-American friend, or through television (which may or may not be a good thing depending on what they're watching).

Not surprisingly, I've found that my classmates and co-workers here in Kansas are overall less willing to try new cuisine than their counterparts in California and Washington. I'm guessing this is because they just weren't exposed to it nearly as much, given the demographic makeup of the Midwest versus the West Coast. While this is completely understandable, it makes me a bit sad that some of them aren't willing to at least try food that they've never eaten before. I mean, how do you know you don't like something if you've never tried it? And I'm not even talking about the "delicacies" Andrew Zimmern shoves, still squirming, down his gullet on Bizarre Foods. I'm talking typical ethnic cuisine, and if you try it and still don't like it, then I'm cool with that.

So a few weeks back I resolved that, while I lived here in Kansas City, one of my personal missions would be to broaden the culinary palettes of my friends and co-workers -- and a few days ago I had my first chance. Since the beginning of the year, I'd been talking about the tastiness of Thai food to a few Asian Cuisine Virgins, and last Friday one of my more food-savvy co-workers and I decided to order Thai for lunch. I immediately asked D if he wanted to try it. A little background: He'd lived in Missouri/Kansas his entire life -- more than 50 years -- and I think had vacationed in Mexico a time or two. D liked Chinese food, and while I don't think he had even considered trying Thai before, he was game. So I ordered him a heaping plate of (you guessed it) Pad Thai.


Pad Thai was the obvious "starter" choice as the most taste-accessible dish -- the noodles, chicken and various garnishes and veggies look basically like Chinese food to the untrained eye. D liked it almost immediately and, in between exclamations of how good it tasted, devoured half of the contents of his take-out box before stopping, saving the rest for later. He even periodically offered samples to the rest of my co-workers and classmates who happened to be eating in the breakroom, but they unfortunately (and unsurprisingly) declined.

Ah, people, but you don't know what you're missing. Okay, more for us then!

It made me strangely pleased that I was able to share something as simple as a new food experience with someone, but hey if it helps open the door to new cultural experiences as a whole, then I'm all for it. Food can be the universal conduit.

Now if I can get D to try sashimi next ... hmm maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. Baby steps ...