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Dear Sensei, I wonder what you would think if you knew how I got here?
Before coming to your school and practicing endless hours of sushi rice preparation and butchering both fish and Japanese culinary terms, I was just a girl who loved cake. I owned a small restaurant in a tiny Mississippi town where I served up Southern charm and plenty of sweets. One day, a favorite client asked if he could reserve the place for a staff party—and if I could serve sushi. And I said yes.
There was just one small problem: I had never seen or eaten sushi! And I couldn’t just run over to the local sushi bar—our small town didn’t have one. Determined, I went to the library and checked out a few books on Japanese cuisine.
At some point I realized I had gotten in over my head. But I was committed. I decided on no raw seafood and swore to myself that once I got through this event, I’d NEVER make sushi again.
The local Asian market didn’t have many of the ingredients the books suggested, so I improvised. Inspired by the pickled vegetables I read about, I reached for one of my Southern favorites: pickled okra. That evening, I debuted what would become my signature roll.
And somehow, I pulled it off. The party was a success, and word spread fast: The Chocolate Giraffe (cute name, right?) served sushi! Soon, I was hosting regular sushi nights. I guess you could say I was confident and on a roll! I even started getting reservations from out of towners, including a reservation from someone wanting to entertain his out of town business colleagues with something special!
That fateful evening, an American man walked excitedly into my dining room with 11 businessmen from Japan. And every bit of confidence I had died.
WHAT THE <insert all sorts of bleep-y words> DID I KNOW ABOUT SUSHI?!
So, I grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels from the bar and locked myself in the bathroom.