Hello, and welcome to another rousing round of Saturday Steals, where what you get is what you see and what you see is cheap or free!
To participate, simply:
1) Steal a steal.
2) Write a post about it on your blog, mentioning that you’re participating in Saturday Steals (you can steal the above image if you so desire), and
3) Add the link to said post to the list at the bottom of this post.
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My first experience with sushi was not pleasant. I was seven or eight and my Aunt Linda offered me a piece of her california roll she’d brought home from some exotic locale (this was Arizona in the 90’s: not exactly rolling in haute couture, so california rolls were exotic, yes). She told me there was seaweed in there and I was equal parts amazed and disgusted. I sniffed it; it smelled awful. I tasted it; it tasted worse.
I was twenty before I ever tried it again, and even then it was more for the status of claiming myself a sushi aficionado than because I really thought it sounded good.
To my delight, it wasn’t a lie: sushi at twenty is loads more delicious than sushi at ten. Ten-year-olds, take heart, for your time will come, my little ones.
I even went out on a limb and tried some of the raw stuff (sashimi? nigiri? miagi? hyundai? I don’t really know the difference [so much for culture]), which I thought was exceptionally tasty but only for the first few bites and then my mind got the better of me.
Anyway, it didn’t matter: my love of cooked fish in rice with seaweed and sundry tidbits of crunchy goodness was ignited, and it was a flame that would stand the test of time (well, the next five years anyway).
Unfortunately, Poor Kyle doesn’t care for it (I guess we could say his tastebuds are stuck in their ten-year-old phase), and I am non-confrontational by nature so when we go out to dinner we rarely soosh. [sōōsh: v. to soosh; to devour sushi with flare and gusto.]
But then guess what? Bestie Gus came to town and we had ourselves an hankering for sushi! First we went out to a sushi restaurant and paid $15 for one california roll, some spring rolls and a bowl of miso soup [each].
But that did not quench the thirst.
So then we went to a fast-food sushi joint and paid $5 for another california roll [each].
And still we had the thirst for more.
Finally, brilliance struck: we would do it. We would do it OURSELVES.
Armed with shaky courage and Pioneer Woman’s Sushi 101 we drove to the nearest Asian market and bought everything we needed for some excellent california rolls.
We went straight home, almost shaking with anticipation of such excellent sooshing in our future. We boiled the rice, chopped the krab [with a K], sliced the cukes and diced the avocados. We laughed at our inexperience, cried at our ineptitude, but in the end Pioneer Woman’s photographic tutorials would not let us fail. We rolled, we wrapped, we flipped and flapped, and in the end: we created sushi.
It was touch-and-go there for awhile but we pulled through. We made twelve (count it: 12) (TWELVE! Ridiculous!) cali rolls for about $15 worth of supplies, which would have cost us approximately $60 if we’d bought them from a sushi store. And we had supplies leftover to make twice as many—$120 worth of sushi for just a fraction of the cost.
Of course we devoured it almost immediately without a thought to take a photo, but this here looks almost identical to the stash we built for ourselves. Image from here.
Yes, we saved a lot of money, and that was great; but even better was the fact that we ate so much sushi we couldn’t possibly think sooshing again for at least another couple of days.
Satiated the thirst, if you will.
And that’s a steal without a price tag.
Not related: how awesome is this panda sushi? I want to bite his face off:
Image from here.
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Now it’s your turn! What have you stolen lately?
Add your steal to the link list below to share it with the world. The list will be open from now till Sunday at 11:59 p.m.
Bob and me when I was more or less 17—young and idealistic.
