I tried Robin's sushi first and found it less than delicious. To be honest, I didn't actually try everything. I wasn't really clear what was even in it (I think it was crab), and I wasn't anxious to try the unidentifiable green blob and the pile of pink stuff pictured below, so I skipped that part.I did some reading and found out that the green blob was probably a version of Wasabi which is a mixture of horseradish, Chinese mustard, and some green food coloring. It's supposed to be spicy hot, so I'm glad I didn't try it. The pink stuff was ginger, and I'm not sorry I didn't eat that either--not my favorite. This was probably the most traditional of the two types of sushi I tried from what I read. It had a vinegar taste to it, and while I am grateful to my aunt for letting me try it, I'm glad I didn't feel obligated to clean my plate.
On the other hand, my brother's salmon sushi was yummy! After reading about sushi though, I found out why. This sushi is a fraud! It's a Westernized version of sushi that isn't even served in Japan. Sushi in Japan is actually pretty healthy, but his dish has been doctored up with cream cheese, avocado, and I think it had cheddar cheese and bacon on top. No wonder it was good! I loved the fatty-delicious middle of the roll; the nori, a type of algae, a.k.a. seaweed Ick!, didn't kill me; I didn't have much of an opinion about the sticky rice; and the outer layer was tasty. All in all it was pretty good and peaked my interest about the world of sushi. I'll be trying more in the future. Japanese steakhouses are such fun places to eat--good food and entertainment at the same time. I wanted to take a bunch of pictures of our chef cooking right at our table and the big flames of fire shooting up around us, but Colter freaked out! Note to self: next time we go to a Japanese place, find a babysitter, because a stranger cooking at the table and shooting fire all over the place is scary! My poor boy was intimidated by all the noise and spent some time curled up on my lap gripping my hair, a.k.a. his security blanket. We had to go stand a bit away from the table at one point. Needless to say, my Colter-filled arms didn't get to take many pictures. Poor Colter! I could see how the experience could be frightening for a two-year-old, and I think I'll wait a few years before trying it again.
No smiles, tonight. The Japanese man cooking our food (who was really Mexican, but the restaurant owners must have thought we Caucasians are too stupid too notice) was too scary!