I’ve eaten sushi plenty of times before. I fell in love with the gimmick of conveyor belt sushi restaurants while visiting Tokyo (I forget if the one I visited was in Shibuya or Shinjuku). I heard there was a relatively new conveyor belt sushi place in Boston’s Chinatown so I walked down there for dinner tonight and promptly made a bunch of newbie mistakes in quick succession. Here’s my thought process after I sat down:
- “Wait, why is most of the sushi pre-packaged? What kind of place is this?”
- “Should I stay? What kind of fast food am I getting myself into here?”
- “Well, at least there are a few dishes with actual sushi on top. I’ll let the belt go around a few times and check out the small selection.”
A few minutes later…
- “Oh. Those little packages are cubes to cool the food on the plate above them. I feel much better now.”
- “But that means there are lots of empty plates. Are they short-staffed tonight?”
- “Oh, right. There are lots of empty plates on the conveyor belt because other people ahead of me are emptying them. Dumbass.”
I was happily consuming my first plate of spicy tuna rolls when the waitress came over and politely asked me to return the cooling container to the conveyor belt so the chefs could use it again for a different dish. I apologized, replaced the container, and self-administered another dope slap.
For the record, the restaurant on Kneeland St. is called Enso and it’s not bad. It’s a friendly looking space with lots of primary colors and clean, if a bit spartan, furniture. The large dining room with two full-sized conveyor belts may actually be too large for the traditionally cozy sushi experience. One half of the room was completely empty on a Friday night and the waitress blamed that on their lack of a liquor license.
So there you go. Don’t do what I did. I doubt you would anyway. I laughed at myself, had a decent meal, and ended up with a short blog post. Not a bad little adventure.
Boston Metro - Mural Sparks Racist Comments
President Obama would call this a teachable moment.
I don’t consider this temporary mural to be a great work of art, but I fully support its presence in downtown Boston across from South Station. Bigoted Bostonians need to be reminded that other cultures exist and that not everyone wearing a headwrap is a terrorist. Especially when the whimsical colors and pajama bottoms make it obvious that the subject is a little boy who is wearing a shirt around his head. It wasn’t difficult to understand the artists’ intention.
Here’s a larger photo that I took last week before the mural was completed.
Screw anyone who chooses to be offended by something as harmless as this. Knee-jerk outrage is the sign of a lazy and ignorant mind.
Since I’m spamming this shot everywhere, why not add it to Tumblr?
This looks remote, but it was right next to the loud Mass Turnpike in downtown Boston. I spent five minutes under the hot sun waiting for someone to walk across the bridge. I got lucky when two people crossed it.
2012 Boston Marathon, mile 24. Beacon St., just east of Coolidge Corner.
I had a nice photo of the women’s race leaders ready to go until another spectator stuck a camera in front of my face. Kenya’s Sharon Cherop and Jemima Jelagat ran next to each other during the final several miles and Cherop ended up beating Jelagat by a mere two seconds.