My 15th visit in Monterey, California since the ’70s, and it seemed like it was the first. A fun and relaxing August weekend in Monterey with my son John, daughter-in-law Natasha and grandson Eliott flashed back fond memories of early visits when my children were younger, and my husband was the tour guide and driver to numerous relatives and friends visiting California. Monterey was our favorite go-to place for sightseeing, beach strolling, seafood dining, or just breathing in fresh ocean air. Last weekend was not lacking in any of these pleasurable amenities and advantages. It felt good to play tourist again.
I bought the wrong rice for a sushi-making party at home weeks ago. Our appointed sushi chef, naturally kind and respectful, showed no visible disappointment when I told him that I cooked the sticky rice for the sushis. He thoughtfully considered as he remarked, sticky rice will make it difficult to manage the rolls. Nonetheless, he concluded, we’ll use it. Too late to get the right kind of rice anyway. The guests had arrived. He was right, the rice stuck to my fingers when I worked on spreading it on the mat and topping it with the fillings. The stickiness caused the fingers to work awkwardly and with extra care. More effort expended in the process. The wonder of it all, the sushis produced tasted superb, regardless. Even with the wrong kind of rice. Of course, our sushi chef brought delectable sushi fillers. Maybe, that’s why the rolls ended up superb. Though privately I thought, the sticky rice in the rolls tasted marvelous.
What I didn’t share with the sushi chef and guests was that earlier in the day before they arrived, I tried four times to boil the rice to find the perfect consistency. Used different amounts of water for the boil. I decided, the best result was with the fourth try. Did my persistence pay off? Hmmm …
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