Sushi

Nigiri, left. California Roll, right

Yesterday was International Sushi Day. Heather and I celebrated at The Sit Down, one of many sushi places in Hyde Park. We only found out it was International Sushi Day an hour or so before we left our house, wiped out from unpacking, mustering the strength to walk one whole block to 53rd Street. This is why I did not post yesterday morning, alerting you of International Sushi Day.


When I told the waitress that I had ordered the sushi special with the Asian salad, not the one with the Miso soup, she was quick to apologize. She even offered to let me eat the Miso soup that she had mistakenly brought. It was 93 degrees Fahrenheit, so I politely declined. 

Hyde Park Roll (& Heather)

The sushi was as good as the service -- better, even, as it did not mistakenly bring the wrong thing before correcting its error. It brought the right thing right up front. The tempura-battered Hyde Park Roll was crispy without being oily. The nigiri were simple and delicate (a delicious reminder of the sushi-purist documentary that Heather and I saw, Jiro Dreams of Sushi). Delicious as these two were, the California Roll spoke most clearly of The Sit Down's excellence.


California Roll is our go-to sushi. Stacked with veggies, California Roll is hard to screw up, making it a safe bet at any establishment. But this California Roll reminded us that a great, fresh, full-flavored, roll can be so much more than a safe bet. The California Roll (sorry Fuji-Do!) might have been the best sushi that I've yet eaten.