John and I decided to take Bethany out for sushi tonight.I sent her a text message earlier today that went something like this: "Your dad and I are taking you to dinner tonight. You must be brave. You must be strong. You must ask Katie which restaurant we bumped into her at last weekend."
Only because I was sending from my e-mail, I went over the character count and the text message cut off after "must be strong." When I got home, Bethany said, "Don't ever. EVER. Send me a message like that again."
To Bethany's credit, she was a sport about the whole sushi experience. (To our credit, we ordered her egg rolls in case it was a total disaster.) We taught her about pouring the soy sauce in the smaller dish, mixing the wasabi in, and how to eat edamame somewhat gracefully. Thanks to her friend, Julia's, training back in second grade, she was already a master at the chopsticks.The thing about living in North Dallas, is that knowing how to eat sushi is almost a life skill. The other random thing about sushi is that the first time you have it, you leave the experience going. "Well, that was okay." Then, the very next week, you find yourself thinking. "Hmm. I'd really like to have sushi again."
Luckily, we have a quiet, intimate sushi place in our neighborhood where John and I wind up a lot. It is pretty, relaxing, and--most importantly, the sushi is good. Tonight, we noticed that it is picking up in popularity. A good thing. A few months ago our conversation centered on wondering if it would survive. Of course, my joy in this only lasts until I start having to wait on a Friday night to get in. When that happens, I'll edit my comments.-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
2012 Update: As it turns out, Bethany has spent the past four years working at a couple of high-end sushi restaurants. Go figure.
No comments
Post a Comment