Whenever Karen and I fight about food, I run and tell you to find out who was right. The last time, it was over the price of coffee and brunch etiquette. This time, it’s a matter of feedback: to speak up or stay quiet.
We went out for sushi today and there was a problem. Out of respect, I’m not going to tell you where we went. I’d like to blog about the place when I have a more complete impression. We both want to go back and we don’t believe that today’s experience is representative. Now, on with the story.
We ordered an entree and a high-end fancy roll, both to split. As with all fancy sushi rolls, the presentation was fabulous, with stuff cut into cute shapes and sauce artfully decorating the plate. I wasabi’d, soy dipped, and took a bite. … … hold on… … still chewing… gulping… chewing some more… … sipping some soda… and a final gulp. Deep breath.
Okay, what was that all about? The rice was like glue. It was dense, packed tightly, and sticky beyond belief. Sushi rice is supposed to be a little sticky, but it’s also supposed to be light. This was more like rice glutten paste.
Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating. Karen didn’t really wanna talk about the rice issue, hoping to have a pleasant meal. We soldiered through the arduous jaw workout, each with our divergent dispositions.
The entree also came with rice. At first we ignored it, because the dish was really tasty and we were getting our carb fix with the fancy roll. But, after I suggested that I say something about the rice in the roll, Karen decided to try the little bowl of rice… Oh man. Same deal. Sticky rice, only with out the mango and sweet coconut syrup. Not cool.
I really wanted to say something and Karen wished I wouldn’t. Because I know that this is probably not a common mistake at any sushi place, I felt like they should be alerted.
This isn’t normal, Karen.
“It’s just rice.”
They need to know about this.
“[eyes rolling, deep sighing]“
What we’ve eaten is not a $14 roll. It’s just not.
Well, if I don’t say something, then I won’t wanna come back.
“She already came by and asked if everything was alright.”
Yeah, and my mouth was full of my first bite of food. All I did was shrug.
“Well, she came back after that.”
And I was walking Jasper in the stroller to get him to go back to sleep.
“Then why’d you eat it all?”
There was a delicious sauce! Look, I left one piece in case the chef wants to inspect it.
“[tilts head and shrugs]“
Karen had given up and wanted to stop arguing. We removed and ate the pieces of raw fish that were left on top of our remaining piece of “evidence roll.” When the waitress came by, she asked how we liked everything.
Um, the rice in the roll and here (pointing to the little bowl) was really really sticky.
“Okay, I’ll tell the chef. Sorry about that.”
It’s no problem, I say as she leaves. Looking at Karen, I try to reassure her that we did the right thing (although, I did it on my own, right or not).
The server comes back and apologizes again, saying that the chef apologizes and took 20% off the bill. I say thanks. We pay (a 25% tip on the original price of the meal for the server), and we head out. We both decide not to keep talking about the rice/feedback issue, agreeing that we wanna go back and see how the next fancy roll measures up.
So, dear reader. Having gotten a very one-sided accounting of these events. What would you have done? For Karen and me, it’s probably a matter of style. She doesn’t and I do. So, what about you?