Dear Sashimi-Grade Fish (or Dear Raw Fish, part II)

Dear Sashimi-Grade Fish,

Wow. All I can say is, "Wow."

So, if you've been following this blog for some time, you have read my letter to Raw Fish about how much I loved it and my master plan to get me some slabs of you and just eat 'em up, yum. Well, I did that yesterday. And it was the greatest thing that ever happened.

I went to an "Asian Supermarket" called Uwajimaya down in southwest Portland. Now, if you come from any sort of Asian roots, this supermarket would probably shock the hell out of you because it is very un-Asian in a particular way - it is so clean. And open. Nothing like any real Chinese grocery or market that ever existed. Of course, when I thought about it, I realized that it is a JAPANESE "Asian Supermarket," which is probably a very different thing, indeed. Which is something I should have been very conscious of, considering my aim in going there:

To acquire you, Sashimi-Grade Fish. And, although I was a little disappointed by the rest of the market, the seafood section did not disappoint. Not only did they have all sorts of wonderful fresh fish (and the whole damn fish, too - none of these unidentifiable slabs of flesh that you find in most American markets), but they had what I have been dreaming of for so long: a selection of beautiful you.

Because we've all seen fresh ahi tuna at other markets. And that's great and all. But if you really want to know my honest opinion (which, of course, you do if you're actually still reading this), ahi tuna is just a waste of time. A complete waste. I mean, I'd rather eat a rotisserie chicken than bother with ahi tuna. Ahi is great for you silly folks out there that don't know any better, sure. But I know better. Much better.

And so I was absolutely giddy with excitement when I saw the selection: salmon, blue-fin, and most importantly . . . HAMACHI (also known as "yellowtail" to those of you who would disagree with me about ahi tuna). I didn't want to get my hopes up, of course. I imagined it couldn't possibly be as delicious as the hamachi at a good sushi restaurant, but what if it was close?

I bought a half-pound of hamachi and a half-pound of salmon and eagerly anticipated the moment of ingestion.

So when I unwrapped it and cut a slice off with a nice, sharp knife, I was practically shaking. It looked so freaking beautiful. So smooth and fleshy. I held my little slice in between my fingers and dangled it in front of me: it sure LOOKED like real sashimi. But what would it taste like? I opened my mouth, placed it on my tongue, and bit down.

And tears almost filled my eyes. You, Sashimi-Grade Fish, are no f-ing lie. You were just as good as a good sushi restaurant - in fact, better than the last one I went to. You were delicious. You melted on my tongue while giving me just enough tooth-feel to get the satisfaction of biting flesh. It was the most amazing moment ever.

But that isn't true, exactly, because the most amazing moment ACTUALLY came a few moments later. And that was when I picked that knife back up and cut myself another slice off the hunk of beautiful you that was sitting before me. I can't put the feeling to words - it was like bringing life into the world, having my very own hunk of you that I could cut slices off of and offer to others as if I was a sushi chef with my very own restaurant. It felt somewhat similar to what God must feel like. So wonderful.

And so I spent the rest of the day (yesterday) and today relishing my power. Returning to the fish every now and then to cut another slice and eat it down. It never got old, that's for sure.

And this is the thing - not only are you delicious, Sashimi-Grade Fish, but you are like a drug. I swear you elevated my mood and made me feel downright HIGH. I've heard rumours about "fish oils" being good for depression, but I had always written that off as a hippie thing. However, now, I owe all of hippiedom an apology. My bad.

I am just so very happy right now because I just ate up some more of you for dinner. It was everything I had imagined and more. I just want to keep writing and writing, but there's nothing more to be said about it, really. You are a beautiful thing, Sashimi-Grade Fish.

My new plan is to just buy a pound of hamachi for my birthday and spend the whole day in a you-induced stupor. Some people drink, other's smoke or shoot up, I shall eat YOU.

Thank you so much for making me so very happy.

Eagerly anticipating our next meeting,
CVT