A word on sushi.

Watching a new restaurant go in is always exciting. Over a period of months you eagerly watch the transformation from empty building to something spectacular. One day paper goes up on the windows . Then you see tools and work crews. Sooner or later, kitchen equipment is dragged in and out. Some bright fresh paint gets splashed in the door. Each step of the way is a clue as to what kind of restaurant is hiding behind those paper covered windows. Eventually the highly anticipated “Coming Soon…”sign goes up like a birth announcement. I live in a neighborhood in South Philadelphia that is in transition, which means I get to watch lots of empty storefronts make this amazing metamorphasis. It’s awesome and I love it.

A few months ago,an old storefront emerged with a very exciting sign. "Coming Soon...Izumi." Sushi? We were getting a new sushi restaurant opened in my largely Italian neighborhood. Wow! Keep in mind, my neighborhood’s most significant contribution to the culinary world, thus far, has been the cheesesteak. You can probably imagine in a place where red meat and Cheeze Whiz are king that a sushi place is just a little bit *out* there. I was ecstatic, thrilled, and overjoyed to see this kind of dining diversity moving in and making South Philly that much better!

Here’s the thing, I have no idea why I was so happy. The concept of sushi totally grosses me out. I feel like I should be someone who likes it, but I’m not. To be perfectly honest, I’m a little closed minded on the subject. The closest I want to get to it is this candy sushi from last weekend’s Willy Wonka themed birthday party.