Said Gary, my former colleague as we sat down with our KPMG family of ex-auditors for one of our quarterly hangouts last Thursday. Earthquake weather was haunting the streets of San Francisco, Harold Camping had predicted the following day to be the End of Days and Wells Fargo's Q3 "Record" profits had fallen short of analyst expectations as we enjoyed a lovely sushi dinner at Zushi Puzzle on Lombard Street in the Marina. It did feel surprisingly homey - the restaurant was well-lit and not too loud, allowing us to engage in good conversation comfortably, and the decorations and dark wood furniture created a simple, intimate atmosphere, a rare experience in a hopping Marina restaurant.
We started with beers and hot sake. I ordered an Asahi Black, a dark Asahi beer that had that slight chocolate-y taste of Guinness. The "Salesforce roll" was the major roll of the night: it reminded me of the "Kitchen Sink" sandwich from Toaster Oven, known for its variety of ingredients, basically "everything but the kitchen sink." It's kind of like all of the sushi rolls you like and want and can't decide between merged into one roll: tuna, salmon, hamachi, avocado rolled in soy paper and lightly fried for a tempura finish with spicy sauce drizzled on top. The fish was delicious and fresh as was the fish in the other standard nigiri and rolls we ate.
Salesforce Roll:
While Zushi can't compare to LA's Sasabune, it was definitely one of the better sushi places I have been to in the city, and our bill for 5 people came out to only $95.
Random non-food-related musings:
Number One: I went to the Marina straight from work before dinner and had some time to meander around Union Street. My plan to browse the shops was quickly thwarted by overly aggressive salespeople in all the stores from Sephora to Bebe to Lush, where a lady washed my hands with pumpkin soaps. I guess Union Street on weeknights becomes primarily residential vs. commercial and the retail workers are lonely and desperate for attention. I took to wandering the streets and passed by Blo on Union Street, a blow dry salon, whose slogan was loudly displayed along the window: "Because you can't blo yourself". I know the Marina is known for being a fratty, cultural wasteland as compared to the rest of San Francisco, but this seems to take the post-adolescent vibe too far.
Number Two: Two earthquakes hit San Francisco on Thursday - one during the afternoon at work and one while we were at dinner. Both were small, at around 3.9, but jolting enough to cause everyone to take notice. Living in the Bay Area for most of my life, I've experienced numerous earthquakes, but only two seriously: the earthquake of '89 when I was 6 years old and the Japanese tsunami - I was 26 years old and on a layover in Tokyo when the quake hit, and ended up spending the night there before thankfully getting a flight out 24 hours later.
Everytime there's an earthquake, my roommate and I swear we will put together an earthquake kit but never actually get around to it. I think we know deep down that if a serious earthquake hit, and we were in the apartment, we'd be toast and an earthquake kit just doesn't seem worthwhile. It's sort of sobering to know that if a large quake hits, there's really nothing I can do about it, except maybe take a picture and post it on Facebook. When the 7.9 afterschock hit Japan 30 minutes after the first earthquake, a group of college-age boys started shrieking in high voices, and everyone around started cracking up, which seems like a completely inappropriate response in the face of an impending catastrophe, but what else could you do?
Anyways, I apologize for being so incredibly morbid. I guess to tie everything together, the lesson is Carpe Diem!: eat all of the Salesforce rolls you can, fry everything and eat it with spicy sauce and choose inappropriate moments to laugh. Just don't get a professional blowdry from Blo.
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