A Fart In a Slipper

Right, a little hit and run post for you. Not because it is a particularly quick ordeal, but because you'll come away from this with a great deal of  injustice and bewilderment.
There is probably, by which I mean almost certainly, less to me than meets the eye. What I lack in cultural nouse I do not make up for in any sophisticated or prudent endeavour. What I will do, however, is voice and  criticise what I find uncouth like I am some sort of authority on the matter, also known as a tit.


Now I see Japanese heritage as a rich and diverse tapestry, one that haemorrhages discipline, order and its fair share of bizarre behaviour and drawings. There is probably a lot of disagreeable facets to their culture, but one particular part I find most difficult to understand. Sushi. We're talking raw fish, cold rice, seaweed. We shouldn't be talking that, but we are. Fish is an already obnoxious flavour and odour, throwing itself round like its the Guv'nor. Before you know it it's up your nose, round your plate, over your utensils, lets not then take that sort of substance and serve it raw and cold. You wouldn't do that with duck would you? I mean, would you? No, because that's fucking odd. Raw fish and seaweed is  offensive to all five senses, and before you ask; squelchy, it sounds squelchy. It feels like poking a slimy, lifeless corpse, it smells like a badly beaten vagina, it looks like sick wrapped in rice and seaweed and it tastes just dreadful.


Least it's not harmful I suppose. That is until we begin slapping the raw fish on top of cold rice. Bacteria thrives in cold rice, it's a right fucker for a bit of chilled grain, that and causing unforgiving altercations in your bowels. Ok, so maybe it's cheap, given that rice is a ludicrously abundant commodity and we're skipping, unbelievably, the whole cooking side of things. Opposite. Sushi is really very expensive, never have I paid so much for so little, for such an underwhelming experience. It was akin to paying someone to just violate my senses, to massage my face with a fart in a slipper.


It would be short of me to deny that they do at least try and mask the ugly taste of sea dregs. They do so with pickled ginger, wasabi sauce and soy sauce, one of the most aggressive culinary entourages I've had to bear. Ginger harrases the tongue whilst the volatile mix of wasabi and soy sauces get to work on your throat and eyes.On reflection I think I'd just prefer the taste of sea water over the pungent, burning sensation these give.

Who, given these observations, could still like sushi? Well, not me. Maybe someone who has time and money to fritter away, but not me.