"In a survey of 11,000 individuals, 37% of those who responded "Yes, I am a vegetarian" also reported that in the previous 24 hours they had eaten red meat; 60% had eaten meat, poultry or seafood."
I'm so glad that I'm not the only person who is consistently inconsistent.
Source: Time Magazine
Courtesy of Raymond Chen.
Food: March 2005 Archives
I went to Origami last night. I know, I already had sushi this week, why would I need to go again. I just wanted more fish, that's all.
The service was only so-so. For instance my deluxe sushi platter came without wasabi and the server dissapeared for a long time after serving my food.
Everything had a nice fresh taste. It was the first time I had octopus sushi. It was pretty good. I was a little afraid it would be rubbery, but it was suprisingly pleasant. I liked the tuna well enough, although the toro I had for desert wasn't worth the market price of 10.75 for two smallish pieces. The other standout fish was the salmon.
Jeannie, not big on sushi, ate the shrimp tempura, origami wontons, and the crab croquett appetizers. She seemed to like them all well enough.
For the price I expected more. Perhaps I would have enjoyed it more sitting at the sushi bar. In the end I'm not raving about Origami. I'm going to try the other sushi restaurants before I go back to Origami, even though I know it's supposed to be the best in the Twin Cities.
Vegans might want to skip this entry.
I've eaten both good and bad sushi more times and in more locales than I can count. Last night however was special.
The place I ate at last night Sushi Yasuda was simply amazing. Everything was incredibly fresh and tasty. I had a little bit of everything from eel to white salmon to mackerel to clams with everything in between. My friend Eric kept comparing the sushi to the human procreative process. It's the first time in my life I felt like this kind of comparison was even close to being warranted.
The atmosphere of the place was the perfect compliment to the food. It was spare, but with touches of minimalist artistry in every quadrant.
I don't know if I can go back to grocery store sushi. It might have been better if I didn't know how good sushi can be. Can I still be happy with the ordinary again?
It's an interesting philosophical question. Would you want to experience something just once, that was so sublime you would pine for it until you were laying on your death bed? Would you really want to know how good it can be, whatever the it is for you?
[TODO: Insert cliche here]
Update: I was talking about this concept with one my co-workers while we were waiting for our ride to the airport. He pointed out that he thought the really grand experiences in life really shouldn't ruin the slightly more mundane. After mulling it over, I'm convinced he is right. Whenever I have sushi, even ordinary grocery store sushi, it will be like an echo or a pointer to the sushi I had Monday.
This makes sense to me. With this attitude I can then fearlessly engage in seeking out the best experiences in life and carefully file them away in my memories. Future experiences which might be more mundane can be enjoyed on their own terms. I like this because it also prevents the ugly snobbishness I sometime hear, "Well, that's not real [insert noun like "Chinese Food" or "sushi"] therefore it can't be properly enjoyed."
So if you see me eating sushi from the grocery store and you catch me with a wistful smile, you'll know what I'm thinking about.
"A drunk man’s words are a sober mans thoughts."
-- Proverb
A co-worker who prefers to be referred to as "my favorite co-worker" sent me this quote today.
While looking for an author to attribute it to, I found the following quote related to the topic of sobriety.
"Better sleep with a sober cannibal than a drunken Christian."
-- Herman Melville
Both of these amuse me, albeit for very different reasons.
A few weeks ago I volunteered to write some restaurant reviews for North Woods Kitchen. My first review appeared today when Ruth published my thoughts about Hell's Kitchen.
