Something Fishy

Rosie, Liz and I took a sushi class last night. I like to think of myself as a decent cook but when it comes to balling rice, slicing tuna and wrapping seaweed (shiny side for presentation, not rice) I'm no expert.

Our teacher, Mary (seen to your left in the white coat) is a sushi chef (am I the only one who can't say sushi chef without making it shushi chef?) and owns a restaurant in Denver. She armed us with ridiculously sharp knives and sent us on our merry ways. Actually, she gave a really detailed presentation, then armed us with sharp knives and sent us on our way.


At one point, my hands were completely covered with rice as I attempted a California roll. For as many times as I've been seated at a sushi bar, I really should have paid more attention to the guys making the food.

We had one guy in our class, Bill, who was taking lots of notes and asking how to spell things like wasabi. And I was like Grandpa in "Sixteen Candles" when Long Duck Dong asks how you spell quiche. "You don't spell it son, ya eat it." (Anyone with me at this point? Anyone remember that scene?) Only I didn't say that. But I wanted to because everytime he asked a dumb question was a precious minute he kept me from making and subsequently eating sushi. And that's just a dumb thing to do. Stupid Bill.

Anyway, I finally did make sushi and below are the end results. Can you believe I made that pretty plate? What I lack in technique and precision, I make up for with beautiful plate presentation.


I've decided to take a class a month this summer at the cooking school. June will be a "Taste of Tuscany". I can't wait! And you can bet your sweet ass I'll be boring you to tears with pictures of that too.