Today I'm in Albany, New York. For lunch, I walked in the 12-degree weather to the local grocery store to get sushi made by a Chinese woman who had never heard the word "tekka" or "maki" and needed me to point to what I wanted. Secretly, inside, I laughed at her sushi ignorance.
After eating six pieces of spicy tuna roll and tekka maki, I am now almost doubled over in pain and nausea.
I believe I win the Sushi Ignorance Sweepstakes, and will stick to pizza, buffalo wings and the fried zucchini for which Albany is known — the gross consumption of which is shown in every pink track-suited ass in the grocery store. They may be on to something.
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