i dream of sushi

Why sushi? Deep in the throes and trenches of my diet, I dream of sushi. Not of prime rib, or burritos, or even McDonald’s. No, I dream of sushi. In Japan. In nondescript, family-run sushi restaurants where only the locals know to go. On the 6th floor of department stores in the heart of the city. In kaiten sushi places, where color-coded plate are brought along like promises on conveyor belts. This is what I dream of.

I miss Tokyo. The lights, the people, the weather. The collective heartbeat of courtesy and personal civic responsibility. There’s just something truly magical about it. Even the impossibly tiny hotel rooms have grown on me. The last time I stayed in a hotel room larger than 20sqm, I felt oddly cold and alone. And the metro – Holy Moses, smell the roses – the metro. The Tokyo subway is by far my favorite mode of commute. The whole city is so connected. It is on time to the minute. Yes, Tanaka-san, I will meet you at the station at 4:52pm on the dot. No, Nakamura-san, I will not be needing a personal car. The metro will get me where I need to go.

So did I just start a blog to talk about my love for Japan and its handling of raw fish? Maybe. We’ll see. I have many other interests. But for today, I have sushi on my mind. Welcome to my blog.