Sushi. A commonly misunderstood food. I learned my love of sushi from my friend, Lauren. She’s one-quarter Japanese; her mother’s mother is full blooded Japanese…her mother’s father was in the Navy…you get the idea.

I, like many of you, I’m sure, had reached age 17 and never tried sushi—I was a bit skeptical. Though, I believe one key to life (and food) is an open mind. Cruise-ship escargot is delectable, for example.

Let’s start at the beginning—sushi does NOT mean raw fish. It means that it must include seaweed. Stop right there: I already know what you’re thinking. Ewww! I did, too. Especially when I recalled the thin sheets of seaweed Lauren eats like potato chips—they taste like crunchy, salt-water to me.

But, especially if you’ve seen the more common, inside-out rolls (where the rice is on the outside) the seaweed is undetectable to the tongue. It acts more as a foundation for the rice and all the yummy insides.

Speaking of the yummy insides, now we choose from a plethora of delicious ingredients. Some creative Asians somewhere decided to name them after U.S. cities, states, musicians…yes, you can order a Philidelphia roll, a California roll and an Elvis roll, or perhaps a Boston and a Motle Crue. Actually, I think each restaurant names them according to themes. But many have more traditional names like the Dragon roll, Phoenix roll, etc.

I am actually a fan of the deep fried rolls (yes, the entire roll is deep fried, but a light and crisp, not turkey-resembling kind). I like smoked salmon and cream cheese (that’s the Philly) and crab and avocado (California). Anything with crab meat, cucumber or fried shrimp is always nice. They have all veggie ones, jalapeño ones. And I’m sure if you can dream it, they can do it.

So, with that out of the way, my and Randall’s first date was at a sushi restaurant. He ran to open BOTH foyer doors; we smiled wide, stared right into pupils and laughed at simultaneous open-ended questions followed by big mouthful of sushi roll answsers.

We visit Osaka every couple of months, they give us VIP cards and ask when they can cater the wedding.

Just like any hopeless romantic would, I ordered sushi mats for Christmas, what a unique, thoughtful, economical and soon-to-be-delicious gift. Thank you, e-Bay.

The next part was a little harder. Thanks to a friend’s advice, I found seaweed and rice wine vinegar at Publix (at the seafood counter). I bought smoked salmon, cream cheese, imitation crab meat and an avocado.

Once at home, we pulled up some internet videos—watching people mix the rice and roll with the mat. The rice wine vinegar makes the rice sticky. I used regular white rice instead of the special stuff.

Step 1—place the sheet of seaweed on the mat

Step 2—use the small, wide spoon (came with mat) to gently spread rice onto seaweed

Step 3—for the inside out roll, gently flip rice/seaweed then place slivers of your ingredients horizontally across

Step 4—pick up end of mat and roll over ingredients. Pinch rice to rice to form a bond, then keep rolling and pulling the mat until you reach the end.

In case I haven’t mentioned it, Randall’s 6’2”, with big, crane-operator hands and a size 15 shoe. Gently spreading the rice onto the very brittle seaweed sheet was a less than successful, at first. The seaweed would rip, he’d look at me with a half-cocked smirk…rip, smirk, rip, smirk continued for about 10 minutes.

I encouraged. Peeled and cut the avocado.

His roll was a little the worse for wear, but did mostly hold the crab mix and avocado together—until you took the chop sticks to it. A spoon was a better instrument for the task. But, just as I explained to him, I really thought we’d be eating rice, salmon and all mixed up in a bowl by the end of our adventure.

Oh, and the avocado I picked out…it stuck out like a bitter, sore thumb. Having chosen one other avocado in my life (a guacamole adventure that I might divulge in a later issue), amateur selector doesn’t begin to describe it.

The rice-covered kitchen counter and floor made a softer blow to my senses than did the hard, yellowish piece of produce that refused to chew up with the rest of the roll.

I decided to try rolling the next one. I spread the rice using small, delicate, wrist movements. I added extra rice when a thin patch seemed likely to tear the seaweed. It grew thicker than usual, but tearing obverted, I added slivers of salmon and cream cheese.

My pinching the rice movement to bond the roll seemed to form a sushi box shape, instead, but it stuck together pretty well. Randall raised an eyebrow and complimented my first attempt.

Now, even more determined to find his finesse, he once again took up the small, flat, wooden spoon and began to spread. A few grunts and deep sighs floated across the counter.

I giggled and reminded him, “This is supposed to be fun.”

His second did hold together better as I stood by his side, pointing out challenging spots where extra-rice Band Aids might come in handy.

He cut the rolls into six pieces, using the serrated knife, sawing motion and water dip, as advised.

As we stood back to examine our masterpieces, a slightly-disappointed silence fell: the rice-blown kitchen, the square and falling apart sushi, the growling tummies…

“Spicy mayo!” he announced with finality. Yes, spicy mayo would fix everything. It’d top the rolls with deliciousness and hide some mishapeliness, too.

Having never made the famous, Asian spicy mayo, I added some Cajun seasoning to a few dollops of Hellmans—and there ya go!

With a nice masking from the soy-wasabi dipping sauce and a few giggles from behind our chop sticks, we decided to leave the sticky-rice kitchen till morning. Sweet dreams of sushi-mess!