For as long as I can remember, I have absolutely loved sushi but I don’t care for creamy, spicy sushi. I prefer my sushi to be more on the solid side and as for the spicy part, a good chunk of wasabi works just fine.
There is a certain level of anticipated and accepted, discomfort when you eat spicy food. As your eyes water and beads of sweat form on your forehead, you are in your wasabi happy place. Next time I grill a steak, maybe I’ll smear a nice healthy layer of the stuff on there.
Someone at work had a bag of tiny dried wasabi balls that I didn’t know were tiny dried wasabi balls so I grabbed a handful of them and popped them all in. I thought they were maybe dried fruit or some kind of nuts. I could have easily read the bag as I grabbed them but I didn’t.
I knew I was in trouble only two bites in. This was not anticipated, not accepted and forget discomfort, this was torture. I tried to focus on where the nearest fire extinguisher was located but I couldn’t think clearly. It was like a forest fire in my head. Oddly, I haven’t had the desire to have one ever since.
It reminded me of another time someone brought in a bag of Harry Potter jellybeans. They had lots of unusual “flavors”, one of which was vomit and I thought there’s no way you can reproduce the taste of vomit so I grabbed one and after only one bite could I appreciate, and welcome, the torture of a handful of wasabi balls. Let’s just say they nailed it and leave it at that.
Whether it’s with or without wasabi, sushi is great but I’ll take mine with it and lots of it, thank you very much.