Of two minds, I figured making sushi would be either quite simple or completely beyond my grasp. First, I wondered, how hard could it be? Cook some rice, grab some nori, slice some fish, julienne some veggies and avocados, roll it all together, and voila! I’ll have that lovely and delectable taste of home, right?
But I also knew that sushi chefs spend their entire lives perfecting the craft, so could I really expect my freshman efforts to result in anything remotely resembling the delectable Asian fare I’ve come to know and love? Would my kitchen merely wind up smelling like fish and burned rice? There was only one way to find out.
To start, I quick-scanned several books on sushi-making. This provided background on tools, ingredients, sushi history and presentation. I googled and watched a few do-it-yourself sushi-making videos, and then chatted up the chefs at my favorite sushi restaurant who graciously weighed in with expert guidance on everything from fish-slicing techniques to obscure seafood suppliers.
Finally, with a lot of information in my head but no experience in hand, I knew I needed to get my mitts dirty trying, so I signed up for “Sushi 101,” chef Danielle Edmonds’ beginner class at Sur La Table’s Boulder store. I came away from the class — a two-hour tour de force of sushi skills — with realistic hopes of making my own.
With several sushi sessions now under my belt, I realize my initial expectations and concerns were backward. Making sushi that tastes good isn’t the problem. My kitchen doesn’t smell like fish or burned rice.
The problem: it just hasn’t been pretty. And in the world of sushi, presentation matters. What I’ve made hasn’t been sleek. It hasn’t been elegant. Instead, it’s been rather messy. Uneven rolls, loosely packed rice, ingredients falling out. It’s the assembly and rolling technique that eludes me.
What the best chefs in the business know, and what I have learned, is that technique takes the longest to master. And like the masters, I intend to try and try again until practice makes perfect.
Monnie Nilsson: 303-954-1049 or mnilsson@denverpost.com