The Amazing Sushi by Michele Murphy
After celebrating my former church’s centennial, everyone moved to the parish hall where a bountiful reception was held. I was part of the team that worked in the kitchen and the game plan was a pass-around appetizer affair. Each member of the team had prepared a signature appetizer, as well as soliciting our town restaurants and markets for donations. My son was the chef at the local Irish Pub and planned to contribute a noteworthy presentation. His appetizer consisted of raw sushi-grade tuna in a small dice served on a triangular fried wonton drizzled with a soy chive oil. It was beautifully presented on a large black platter. Since the platter was so large, I decided to bypass our young servers and pass the dish around to the guests myself. As I made my way through the crowded room and eased my way into the small groups, I announced my presence with a call of, “sushi-grade tuna,” sounding like a fishmonger on Barnegat wharf.
The reaction to my arrival was animated to say the least. Some guests stopped talking and immediately scooped up a crispy wonton with the delectable highly mounded tuna and made sounds and moans not usually heard in the church parish hall. Others scrutinized the platter with its beautiful appetizer and asked cautiously, “What is it?” To my reply, they demurely lowered their eyes and with a slight shake of the head and a whispered, “No thank you,” they turned away. Were they embarrassed because the tuna was raw? Should it be covered with another wonton chip? Did they not want to offend me since I was presenting this treat to them? Whatever their reasons, the reaction was repeated by numerous guests.
Then there were the angry responses, “No, no! I don’t do sushi!! Take it away!” While others waved their hands back and forth saying, “Yuk! No, no, not sushi!” Was their waving to prevent me from forcing a tuna-covered wonton down their throat? Should I wave back?
After the second time of passing the platter around the room to the same reactions, I decided to project my personality into the situation. “My son is a chef and he prepared this and if you’ve never had sushi before, you will be hooked with this delicacy.” A couple of very brave souls took the bait, but most held their ground and their strong denial.
After the fourth time of passing the replenished sushi platter around the room, I felt like the pied piper with a trail of raw-fish eaters following in my wake. One of the followers even suggested that people should pay me for this delectable treat. There was still resistance by some but not as blatant as initially observed. (Perhaps the cheese puffs had mellowed them.)
As I continued to interject myself into the little clusters of people calling out with my fish-monger greeting, I became stronger and suggested to the hand-wavers and the angry non-sushi eaters that they could perhaps tone-down their inappropriate responses and be a bit more tolerant of the raw tuna and that a simple, “No, thank you,” was all that was necessary. My comments seemed to shame them into acknowledging their rudeness to sushi and they immediately became humble (after all it was a church affair). Wanting to appease me (and possibly the tuna) they volunteered to try an appetizer. It was amazing to see. I thought I was on the “Sushi Reality Show.” I was prepared to cheer them on, perhaps hold their hand, or find them a quiet corner in which they could perform their miraculous deed of bravery.
When reflecting on people’s reaction to the amazing sushi, I wondered if we react to all things passed before us with the same energy as was demonstrated.
Is our “sushi behavior” a reflection of who we are?
Do we just want the sure thing, or are we willing to extend ourselves and try something that makes us uncomfortable?
Do we need a hovering cheerleader? Someone to encourage us and acknowledge our bravery?
Is this how we face all obstacles when they intrude on our life?
Not being a philosopher but a mere “passer of sushi” I leave the answers to others much wiser on such matters.
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