Addicted to sushi

My favorite: Ginger Spice Roll
Last week, above, and this week, below

I probably had sushi for the first time a few years ago. California rolls at a Chinese buffet. Nothing exciting. The idea of raw fish didn't do anything for me. 

At some point, I had Matsu Ya in Stevens Point. That was good. I had it a few more times with friends and family. It was a treat to go, but I didn't crave it. 

Then, I moved to Plover. Being 15 minutes from great sushi is wonderful. You can decide you want to eat out, and voila! You've got sushi in front of you in less than a half an hour. 

It's fast, fresh and delicious. 

On a recent holiday weekend, I was bummed when they were closed. Closed for a holiday weekend? 

So the following Friday, after "Wine Wednesday" (we call it that regardless of which day we drink) with my friend debi, I decided I wanted sushi. I didn't feel like going home and finding something to cook. She marveled that I'd go alone. 

It's actually a nice place to be alone. You can sit at the sushi bar and watch them make the rolls. If you're alone, you usually get your food even before others who were there before you. This might be aided by the fact I don't look at the menu. I order my favorite when they ask if I want something to drink. 

I sip my tea and gaze at the perfect pieces of salmon, tuna and fish I can't even identify. They look like jeweled steaks — or jellied candies. Plump and glistening slabbed on trays. Roe, vegetables and sauces line bowls and dishes. It's art even before they put it together on your plate. 

It's becoming a habit. I was going to stay in Rapids tonight, but after leaving Karen's Wines and Steins, I couldn't decide what I wanted for dinner. I headed down 8th Street but only made it to Chestnut before I turned around and set off for Point — and sushi. 

This is going to be a hard habit to break.