Dinner experience

We had the most fabulous sushi last night. We had the best tuna rolls either of us has had, with freshly ground wasabi on top (and, wow, did it blow holes through our heads). We also ordered crab and eel on rice. I was thinking it would be the regular strip of seafood on a small mound of rice. No, it was a huge bowl of rice covered in meat. The crab was fresh, right from the tank, to do for, and there was tons of it. I think there were 20 large pieces, for about $15.

But, by far, the best part of the meal, at least experience-wise if not taste-wise, was the odorigui.

We're pretty used to being given morsels of unusual things when we go to restaurants not visited by Americans very regularly. I think it's a mixture of hospitality as well as a sense of humor. They watch our reactions very closely, smirking only after we give our anticipated response. Usually, they're very impressed that we eat as many traditional Japanese foods as we do. But, I have to admit, I was pretty shocked this time. We were handed little bowls by the sushi chef at the end of the meal. I was thinking it was a small scoop of green tea ice cream or some other meal finisher like that. Instead, as I brought the bowl down to eye level, I was rather surprised to see the contents still wriggling. At least I didn't jump or gasp.

Apparently what you do is add a bit of soy sauce, then slurp the little fish down. The you tube videos show people taking a fish, putting it into a bowl of soy, then eating the fish singly. We were told to add soy directly to the bowl, but I'm not sure if we were supposed to slurp the whole bowl at once, or grab a single fish at a time. Justin went first. And then, he went second. My stomach had been feeling squirmy already, and while I'll try everything once, I just couldn't bring myself to face the wriggling, live fish, when I was full and not feeling at 100% on top of that. The chefs broke out into huge grins when Justin ate my share. I wasn't worried about being rude or losing face. I was pretty sure that this was them testing us for a response. And, it turns out, after seeing videos and accounts of Japanese people saying, "I had to do this once. Now I never have to do it again," it turns out I was right. I have a feeling that after we left, they continued talking about the crazy gaijin couple, one of whom slurped down two entire bowls of odorigui (or, a dish of shiro-uo, live ice goby).