Yesterday, Mr. W left at 7:30 a.m. to meet up with his friend for a 10:00 a.m. massage, and when he still didn’t return by 1:30p, I decided to go get lunch on my own. I deserved something decadent, since I’m sick AND I’d just run 4 miles and walked another 1 at the gym earlier (I had to do the dreadfully boring treadmill because with these antibiotics, I can’t go out in the sun, or drink alcohol. Or even take multi-vitamins. Claudio had commented, “Jesus, she like a gremlin. Comes with instructions and shit.”). However, I don’t normally have lunch on my own, so I checked with a couple of male friends first, asking if they’d find it odd if they saw a chick having lunch by herself at a sushi bar on a Saturday. The responses were that they wouldn’t think it odd at all (and that given my age, I shouldn’t care if strangers think I’m a loser anyway), so off I went to my favorite local sushi joint on the lake. I hadn’t been there in a long time, since Mr. W is rather tired of sushi and when he goes, he’d rather spend $25pp at the all-you-can-eat Minato Sushi than get $50pp omakase on the lake. Perfect opportunity. And I had one of THE best lunches ever on my own!!

Since I’d gotten there after the lunch rush at almost 2p, the restaurant itself was close to empty, and what patrons there were, were sitting out in the back patio enjoying the beautiful sunshine and the sparkling lake. Thanks to my meds, I was the lone customer at the sushi bar. I had never met sushi chef Fumio before. I asked him politely whether it’d be okay to do an omakase lunch, and he pointed me to a seat in front of his station. He started me off with toro (fatty tuna) sushi, with more diced fatty tuny as a topping. Next course, my favorite fresh raw sea scallops seasoned with a dusting of sea salt and a squeeze of lemon. HEAVENLY and sweet. Then yellowtail belly, the most expensive and indulgent cut of hamachi. He served that with grilled yellowtail belly ribs. I was already getting full, but since we were having a nice conversation, I stayed on. I found out that in Japan, at least when Chef Fumio was there, they didn’t do salmon sushi, one of my favorite fish! The salmon served there is always cooked. What?! To me sake sushi is a staple. He also said that the oh-so-popular seared albacore sushi here is not served in Japan, either. “All the albacore in Japan comes in a can. We call it ‘ocean chicken.’ We don’t eat sushi.” Wow.
The owner of the restaurant, who is usually my omakase chef, walked out and recognized me. “Hey, you haven’t been here in a long time!” he welcomed me. “How come?” Eek!
“I’ve been vegetarian for awhile,” I said, which is not really a lie. I assured him that I am pescatarian now and will be back.

Around this time, Fumio had disappeared into the kitchen and returned holding a clear plastic bag filled with liquid and something brown-gray inside. I watched him happily cutting open an enormous shell, humming as he worked in extracting the edible parts of a giant clam. “Is that live?” I asked.
He said, “Yes, I just got this! I have three of them.” He trimmed some stuff off, separated other parts, and cleaned the cut parts in a bowl of ice water, leaving them in there to soak for a few minutes as he loaded a big round bowl with ice cubes and arranged the giant shells, decorating them with strings of carrots and turnips, and translucent coins of radishes. I had something similar, albeit with abalone, at Toro sushi with Eddie and Michelle, so I knew it was expensive and exotic. I kept looking around outside on the patio, wondering who of these white patrons out there, who had been sent standard rolls that I’d watched Fumio make, would know to order something like this. When Fumio simultaneously finished his humming with his clam arrangement, he lowered the finished product in front of me, saying, “Sashimi, for you!” My jaw dropped. For me? For just one person?! This stuff is so expensive that usually a whole table shares one!
“Oh my gosh, I thought you were doing this for someone outside! I feel so special! The presentation is beautiful! I have to take a picture,” I gushed.
Chef Fumio smiled and said, “Thank you. But I didn’t put on my makeup today, so please don’t take a picture of me.” I laughed at him, and took this:

I expected the texture of this “yellow clam,” as it translates to from Japanese, to be firm, similar to the abalone sashimi I had, but it wasn’t. The taste was most similar to the big sea scallops, tender with a touch of sweet. I couldn’t molest the delicacy with soy sauce, it was so fresh and good straight, with just the dash of salt and pepper he’d put on it.

I now expected this to be an $80+ lunch, but that’s okay, I was prepared for that. And this meal was such a treat. I closed out the tab, and the bill came. Less than $40!!! WHOA, I got special treatment!! As I paid, Chef Fumio made me a traditional Japanese dessert (no charge), the sweet flesh of a piece of Japanese pumpkin wrapped like a bun around a piece of banana, with a slowfall blanket of powdered sugar. It tasted like a guilty pleasure. I tipped just short of 40%, thanked Fumio for the best lunch I’d had in a long time, he told me hopes to see me again soon, and I danced out of there.

I have GOT to have lunch on my own more often!!