Sushi-go-round
It wasn’t the first time I’d had sushi. God, no! My palate had been lubricated by raw fish on many a delightful occasions. But it was the first time I sat around one of them delight trains, the sushi-go-round. Like little scientific experiments they came, grouped into clusters of two or three according to colour, taste and surprisability. The train moved smoothly and silently and the delectable morsels passed by solemnly like some awe-inspiring extraterrestrial exhibits. This is well gonna be a business-class dinner, I thought to myself. Then I noticed the chunky red letters painted on the restaurant’s window: “Eat all you can for €15”. Well then, sort of. There was no plate in front of me. Only a little bowl for the wasabi & soy sauce. I reached out for a fat specimen decorated with glistening orange crumbs and pinched it with a plastic chopstick. I didn’t take the tiny plate it was placed on and let its two sexy plate mates move on. Then I snatched a crunchy ball. And another