A New Experience

 

    Usually, my instinct is more than sufficient to tell me whether an activity, class, or food is enjoyable to me. When my mom suggests a new experience my gut tells me whether I will like it or not. This peculiar sixth sense has never failed me before. But it broke its “A+” score of one hundred percent during my last summer vacation to China.

    This past summer vacation in China was a perfect example of the summer break I want. Almost every day, my grandpa and I would just lounge around the living room chatting about random stuff and devouring any good food we could lay our hands on (this is why I gain weight so easily in China). After spending the drowsy times of early morning this way, we would go down to the community park and ride our bikes to somewhat control my weight gain. Then I spent lots of time on my iPad until my mom caught me and made me do summer homework. After the gruesome homework was finished and the fantastic dinner cooked by my grandparents was demolished, I would play a card game with Grandma, sometimes joined by my uncle and aunt. After doing my “ritual” of attacking someone on Clash of Clans (an addictive iPad game), I would watch cartoons until close to midnight, sleep, and start the cycle again. And there were the ever present invitations to lunch or dinner at excellent restaurants.

    My instinct failed me during one of these lunches with Cherry and her parents that took place in a really fancy and realistic Japanese restaurant where everyone removed their shoes (very stinky) and sat crosslegged on thick woven mats that slid around ever so slightly on the oiled wood floor. Although the mats felt comfortable for the first ten minutes or so, they steadily became stiffer after that.

    At first, the adults sipped on hot green tea and filled each other in on the latest celebrity gossip, while Cherry and I chugged mango juice. Then the adults started ordering the dishes. First came six steaming, aromatic bowls of miso soup. I sipped slowly straight from the bowl since the Japanese don’t use spoons. Then came the food that I absolutely despised in Japanese cuisine, sashimi. There were salmon, tuna, shrimp, yellowtail, eel, and some type of fish called Ayu, all raw and shining with oil. My guts told me immediately that I would not enjoy sashimi. Luckily for me, a dish of dragon and caterpillar sushi came and I gratefully helped myself to the more inviting food.

    I was able to avoid the slimy sashimi for a few more minutes, before my mom noticed I had not tried it yet. She told me to eat some sashimi and that Cherry loved it as well. I stubbornly refused and continued munching my sushi. A couple of minutes later, when I was off guard, my mom unceremoniously stuffed a particularly large piece of salmon  sashimi into my mouth. Cherry was stunned for a second, then burst into uncontrollable giggles. Mom tried to look mad, but couldn’t stop her lips from twitching upward. As I was forced to chew, I suddenly noticed the pleasant soft texture of the salmon flesh, as well as the exotic wasabi and savory soy sauce. For a moment, I was stunned that sashimi tasted so good and that my instinct had been mistaken. Then I started wolfing down every piece of sashimi as fast good eating manners would allow.

    From that moment on, sashimi has jumped from my least favorite to my second favorite food, close after eggs. I learned that trying a new experience with the urging of your parents is not harmful at all, even if your instinct is telling you to back away from the experience. To this day, I am still very grateful to my mom for stuffing that delicious piece of salmon into my doubtful mouth!