Personal Narrative: Sushi

Improved Essays
There was a time when I would eat Sushi every other day. I even had converted many of my family and friends from “never will I ever eat raw fish” to “what time is our lunch sushi arriving, I need my Yellowtail Tuna fix.” I did not always love sushi, in fact, my relationship with sushi started out as fear.
Growing up in the inner-city idea and consumption of sushi is taboo. No one ate it, it was never discussed and the idea of consuming raw food was ludicrous in my family. Pretty much all we ate was fried food or foods that were cooked at low temperatures for long periods of time.
I do not think I heard the word until my third year at Penn State. My Asian roommates had dragged me to one of the all you can eat buffets far down College Ave,
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The culture at the company was fast, fun, and friendly. This lead to many team outings and happy hours. One particular night the plans lead us to the new sushi restaurant in uptown. Immediately my fear kicked in. I had managed to avoid sushi for 21 years, but now I had to face it head-on. I could not let my colleague Maria (whom I was often competing with for promotions), my manager, Adam (who I admired) and the rest of the team see me punk out on eating sushi. When we got to the restaurant, I faked as if I was really familiar with Sushi, as we ordered rolls to share. Luckily, my love for Chinese food had equipped me with decent enough chopstick stills to keep up my charade, at first. Still beset with fear I mocked Maria as she poured her soy sauce into the little dish and then proceeded to place pieces of ginger into it. I am sitting there really playing it cool, inside. However, I was working hard to keep my lunch down. When the rolls arrived, I put a few rolls of the tuna maki on my plate, this time mocking Adam. Despite my encounter with sushi in the past, I was not prepared for this classier rendition. Again, mocking my coworkers I dipped my roll in the soy. As I prepared to eat the roll oddly, I did not have any memories of my mother and the fear that she had instilled in me about raw food. There were no inklings of being a disappointment or disobeying her culinary

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