Yesterday, Tina and I made dinner plans with our good friends, Joe and Fran. Initially, we discussed going to one of the local Irish pubs because, after all, who doesn't like an Irish pub? But ultimately we all agreed on hitting our local go-to Asian restaurant, the Passion Asian Bistro. They have a wide variety of familiar Chinese menu items as well as an impressive selection of sushi.
We settled into our seats and we were quickly greeted by our host. As he takes our drink orders, he recognizes us from previous visits. He grins, then holds his hand about eye level and says, "Tall one, right?" Of course, he's referring to the large draft beers that we always order with dinner. I'm not really sure of the exact size of these beer glasses, But when the guy returned with three gigantic Stellas, he seemed a bit exhausted. He presented Tina, Joe and I with our beers (Fran graciously volunteered to be our designated driver for the evening). As he placed each beer in front of us, he reiterated, "Tall one!" and giggled.
We all ordered our dinner. Joe and I opted for a couple sushi rolls while the ladies ordered some more traditional menu items. About mid-way through the meal, another hostess appeared and announced, "We have sea urchin tonight".
We looked at each other and simultaneously replied, "Hmmm."
"You want to to try?" asked the hostess.
Again, we looked at each other but with a little more uncertainty this time. I had completely finished my first gigantic beer and I could tell that it was already having a compromising effect on my judgment. So, I broke the ice and said, "Sure, we'd love to have some of that sea urchin."
Our hostess's face immediately lit up and she said, "Very good. How would you like it?"
She gave us some choices but I had no idea of what they meant. So, Tina spoke up and said, "We'll take it whatever you recommend."
"Very good. I will have the chef prepare it now", she said.
As the hostess walked away, Fran made it perfectly clear that she was not partaking in our spontaneous sea adventure. I think she said something like, "Do you even know what you just ordered?"
"Of course", I confidently replied. "It's sea urchin."
Fran just shook her head and laughed.
I suggested that someone Google a picture of a sea urchin. But Tina quickly shot that idea down. She said that if we saw what it looked like, we wouldn't want to eat it. Now, I was started to get worried. And then she added that sea urchin is considered a delicacy and that it was probably quite expensive. I tried to play things down by reminding everyone that we only live once.
A short time later, our hostess returned with the mystery fish. It didn't look anything like I expected. I figured it would be a fleshy cut of fish similar to tuna or salmon. But instead, it resembled an orange paste topped with what liked like black caviar. Each pasty row was laid upon a small leaf of lettuce. It looked innocent enough but there was still some apprehension in the air.
We examined the pasty blobs, poking at them and viewing them from different angles. It was reminiscent of that scene in "My Cousin Vinny' where Vinny and Lisa discover grits for the first time. Eventually, we all made the decision to jump in...
Tina, Joe and I each grabbed our respective sea urchin, carefully balancing it on the lettuce leaf. We gingerly raised it to our mouths as if it were a cup of Jim Jones' Kool-Aid. We simultaneously took a bite, watching the expressions on each others faces. Our faces initially contorted like we had bit into a sour lemon. But that look gave way to another surprised look of utter disgust. If I had to describe it, I imagine that sucking on a sweaty gym sock would be quite accurate. It was an explosion of bitterness followed by heavy notes of sea sludge. The awful flavor lingered on my palate for an uncomfortably long time. I desperately wished that I had a glass of strong whiskey to wash the pungent taste out of my mouth. I shook my head from side to side, hoping that it would bring some kind of relief. But it did no good.
Joe and I were in pretty bad shape. But Tina seemed to be taking things in stride. She explained that she had put some wasabi on her sea urchin. I guess it offset some of the punishment. Well played...
We all quickly returned the half-eaten sea urchins back to their serving tray. As the three of us continued on the road to recovery, Fran just laughed. I think she really enjoyed seeing us in this moment of despair. She even snapped some photos with her phone similar to the way Lisa did when Vinny tried his first grit.
When the dust finally settled and our taste buds regained consciousness, our hostess returned and saw that we didn't finish the delicacy. She had an initial look of disappointment on her face. But it quickly transitioned into a subtle laugh. I have a feeling that she had seen this reaction before. To her credit, she did not charge us for the sea urchin. We were willing to pay. After all, we did order these things. But she insisted that we would not be changed. That's great customer service and that's one of the reasons we love this place.
So, in the end, I can now say that I've tried sea urchin. But I can't say that it was pretty. So, if any of you ever go down this experimental route with this mystical sea creature , let me give you one piece of advice....Have a strong shot of your favorite liquor nearby. And if that isn't possible, a small glass of gasoline will suffice.
kw
