The Technician

Sushi restaurants hold a special place in my heart as possibly the worst place to go for a meal. Granted, I have not been to many, but the ones I have been to all share the same horrible characteristics.

The service is always has a certain briskness to it. To many, this is great, you order, get your food, eat, and have your plates taken away almost as the last piece of sashimi leaves your chopsticks. Rice notwithstanding, once most of your food is gone, so is your plate, replaced almost as quickly with the check. While many consider speed to be a feature, I’m not sure I agree when it comes to my dinner. While the staff at every sushi joint I’ve ever been to has been efficient, they’ve also been less than accommodating when it comes to simple things, like recommendations.

Ambiance and fellow patrons normally leave something to be desired as well. Somehow, sushi has come to be the meal of choice for the screaming hordes of clubgoers, Jersey Shore wannabes, and that certain type douchebag that only comes at night. Thusly, the soundtrack of most of these places closely resembles being inside a speaker cabinet while DJ Pauly D spins whatever the fuck it is that he spins. Again, nothing wrong with that, but not while consuming raw fish.

Then, there’s sushi itself. Don’t get me wrong, I like sushi, particularly a real nice piece of toro when it’s nice and cold. And I’ve been adventurous enough to have tried some more exotic options, like uni, which is without a doubt, a taste you need to acquire. I also understand that it’s considered an art form. But what bothers me most about going out for sushi is the vast majority of places do not regard it that way.