******Correction: The credit cards accepted should have been listed as MasterCard, Visa and American Express. *****
This could have been the most disastrous lunch I had ever planned. Actually it really wasn’t planned. A woman I met recently called me and wanted to know if I was available for lunch.
“Sure, come on down,” I told her. “We’ll go to a sushi place I know of.” She wasn’t too hip on sushi, and I tried to pick another place; but she said, “No problem, I’ll find something to eat.”
It is difficult, I know, to find something on a sushi menu if you don’t like raw fish. But for some reason I have taken it upon myself to try and expose the non-sushi eating population to the delicacy I have been hooked on for years.
It is a directive much like the Christian missionaries, though I am not roaming the land looking for pagans. Mine is a much more subtle approach. When this woman didn’t mind going for sushi, the door was open.
To make this a little more challenging, I picked a place I have never been to before, nor heard anything about.
I felt reasonably assured in my selection. Sushi Ya is in the corner of a strip mall, tucked away from sight. The only way you would find it is if someone recommended it or you saw it on a visit to neighbor Martini Blues.
To survive as long as it has in this location I figured they must be doing something right.
Though it is nondescript on the outside, the inside is quite attractive. Rich black wood tables and chairs complement plush booths that line the walls of the large dining area.
That was important. A nice, inviting, non-threatening atmosphere was perfect for an introduction to sushi.
I started slow and cautious. The bento boxes were available, but they were a bit steep at $8.95 to $9.95 so that excuse was perfect to steering her back to sushi.
I ordered edamame, and the soybeans were non-threatening and a good way to start any sushi lunch or dinner. She started to become a little alarmed as she was reading the appetizer menu and saw baked green mussel and monkey balls (stuffed mushroom), but I assured her these were exotic dishes, and we wouldn’t be dabbling in that.
We began with a sushi standard, the California roll. The mixture of imitation crab meat and avocado is fairly benign, and I thought a perfect way to indoctrinate someone.
When the dish came, she looked it over and studied it. I waited for her to take a piece, and it seemed like an eternity before she finally grabbed one with shaky chopsticks.
