This past weekend was my husband, Jon’s, 34th birthday. We decided to celebrate with sushi at Fuji Restaurant in Haddonfield. It ranked highly on this list of New Jersey’s 35 greatest sushi restaurants on NJ.com, so we decided to give it a try and see what the fuss was all about.
Overall, Fuji Restaurant was a great sushi experience. NJ.com did not lead us astray! The chef’s workstation was in the center of the room, which gave nearly every seat in the house a vantage point to watch them prepare sushi with precision. The mood was set with romantically dim lighting and the calming sounds of 'hōgaku,' traditional Japanese music, playing vaguely familiar American songs (we got to hear a 'hōgaku' rendition of John Denver’s ‘Country Roads’ which I am still delighted by). But the best part of the night was one moment during the service when our waitress opened our world to a whole new way of enjoying sake.
When we sat at our table, the waitress looked at the sake we brought and said “oh this is a very nice bottle.” It felt good to have someone who has more knowledge on the subject compliment our choice in sake. She followed it up with a very shy “would you like me to warm this up for you?”
Now, Jon and I are in no way sake experts, so we answered her question with another question: “how would you recommend it?” We went back and forth a few times, Jon and I were willing to take her advice, but she became instantly insecure about her sake opinions, despite her expertise.
I already knew that sake could be enjoyed at room temperature or chilled, but I didn’t realize warm sake was an option. At our usual sushi spot, they give us a bucket of ice for our sake, so I assumed that chilled sake was preferred (we had actually chilled the bottle before coming to the restaurant this time). We told the waitress that we could go either way. We enjoyed chilled sake, but if she recommended that it’s better served warm, then we were game!
With confidence, she finally insisted that she warm some of our sake up, just to give it a try. “I like it better that way,” she said.
I am so glad we took her up on her offer because it completely changed the entire meal! The sake became more fruity and floral, and with the chill of fall settling in, having a warm boozy beverage made the relaxing atmosphere of the restaurant created even more chill. Plus, the pronounced flavors made every bite of sushi even more exciting.
It got me thinking about taste and how it consists of more than just flavor. It’s an entire world that is built upon the foundation of someone’s lived experience. To let people into that world, to express yourself fully, is an act of vulnerability.
The waitress’ offer to warm up our sake was an invitation to experience it from a different perspective; her perspective, and that was a true gift.
In college, a creative writing professor said something that stuck with me. He said it’s easier for writers to criticize a subject than it is to write positively. Criticism sounds like you’re an authority, but pointing to something and saying it’s wrong or bad without offering a solution or explanation doesn’t show your command of that subject. In fact, it’s really just a form of faux intellectualism that adds nothing to the conversation.
Expressing what you like is a lot harder than expressing what you don’t like. It opens you up to criticism and it hurts to share a part of yourself only to have it rejected. It’s like when someone says “yo be cool” and you have to act aloof as if you don’t care. Because, for some weird reason, being happy, excited, cheerful and caring about the stuff you like is very, very uncool.
Working in media, I’ve noticed there are lots of supposed arbiters of cool who declare what’s cool by pointing out what’s not cool. Thus, the goalpost for the elusive cool is always moving.
What is in good taste when the main topic of discussion is about what is not in good taste?
Like, I still don’t understand why aren’t we supposed to hang Live, Laugh, Love signs in our homes or enjoy twee fashion or make butter boards. People are enjoying themselves wearing thick-rimmed glasses while smearing butter on boards with Live, Laugh, Love emblazoned on every square inch of their kitchens. As long as people aren’t getting hurt, I don’t see the harm in someone finding joy.
What is the fun in yucking someone’s yum?
The food world can be kind of elitist. There are a lot of incredible people who are inclusive and compassionate in the industry, but there are still a few out there who, whenever they get the chance, will scoff at you if you haven’t eaten at a certain restaurant or aren’t hip with the latest dining trends, and make absolutist declarations regarding the right and wrong ways to eat and drink. Do a quick search on ‘how to serve sake’ and you’ll find people insisting that it should ONLY be served warm and an equal amount of people insisting it should ONLY be served chilled (Thrillist says you should NEVER drink your sake hot). Why not live in a world where we can enjoy our sake however we damn well please.
As I continue to build my career in food media, I am not interested in being the arbiter of good taste. I want to connect with what makes a place special and highlight those attributes, even if it’s bodega tamales in Memphis or a gas station selling barbecue in Kansas City, Kansas. That’s actually my favorite part about hosting Check, Please! Philly. People don’t just share their favorite restaurants, they share what they love about those restaurants, and what they love is more than what’s on the plate. And the enthusiasm they bring to the table is infectious.
The things that people love have intangible qualities that speak deeply to who they are, where they come from, how they want the world to see them and how they see themselves. We don’t have to like the same things, but we can still appreciate when people find that sense of deep connection with others and the world around them, whether it be an upscale dining experience or butter smeared on a $110 Live, Love, Laugh cheeseboard. We all want that feeling and we all deserve that.
Having a difference of opinion can be fun when you leave room for a healthy debate instead of shutting one another down for the simple fact that you have a difference in taste. Even if you don’t like the same things, when you let people have their joy, I promise you, that joy is going to rub off. That’s because the joy isn’t derived from going to the best restaurant, or ordering chilled or hot sake, or having a superior sense of fashion. The joy comes from a shared moment when you connected deeply with another person and accepted their invitation to see the world the way they see it.
My favorite thing to do in the world is to observe it from other vantage points. It’s why I love to travel, dine in different restaurants and explore.
This summer I worked in Kansas City on a project about barbecue. The city has around 100 barbecue restaurants in the metro area, and since they’re considered The Barbecue Capital of the World, locals have really strong opinions about who has the best barbecue.
I wanted to know how one can tell the difference between good barbecue and great barbecue, so I sat with Ardie A. Davis, a legendary Kansas City barbecue judge and Barbecue Hall of Famer. He told me what to look for in regard to appearance, tenderness and taste, the three judging criteria of barbecue. But what IS the best barbecue? “The best barbecue is the barbecue you like,” he said.
Only you can be the judge of good taste.
UPDATES
From here on out, Amuse-Bouche is going to be a monthly (sometimes more frequent) “muse-letter” and a place to feature my work and work from others that I find inspiring. I’d also love to host guest posts and do content swaps, so if you’re interested, let me know!
FEATURED
After nearly three years of being on hiatus due to the pandemic, Check, Please! Philly is back on WHYY! We kicked off Season 2 with a candid conversation that centers on Black and WOC voices in the restaurant industry. If you want to know how we can all move together from here, these women shared incredible wisdom.
PUBLISHED
I just wrapped up a MASSIVE project on Kansas City. I got to work with The Kansas City Star and it was one of the most rewarding and creative things I’ve ever gotten the chance to work on. I produced 8 mini-documentaries including a 4-part series on How to Eat Kansas City Barbecue Like an Expert. One of the quirkiest stories was one about treasure hunters who found 200 tons of Pre-Civil War artifacts on board a steamboat that sank in the Missouri River. The most inspiring and profound was a tour through the Black Archives of Mid-America. If you want to see more on that, certainly check out my bio page.
In Philly news, I explore how jawn is the Philadelphia version of the French je ne sais quoi — “jawn sais quoi,” if you will. If you want to learn more about the surprising history of Philadelphia’s magical noun, you can read it on WHYY.
WATCHING
I saw The Donut King a while ago and I think I forgot to recommend it to you all! It’s a helluva ride! Plus, the Cambodian American influence on the world of donuts is a fascinating topic!
LISTENING
I’m late to the party on this podcast, but I have really been into “You’re Wrong About.” The host, Sarah Marshal, recently appeared on an episode of Maintenance Phase (another podcast I adore). Turns out she used to work with Michael Hobbes on “You’re Wrong About!” So if you love deep dives that give a more accurate look into mainstream news stories like The McDonald’s Hot Coffee Case, how media portrays serial killers, and a five-part series on Princess Diana, this is the podcast for you!
READING
Tacky: Love Letters to the Worst Culture We Have to Offer by Rax King is a very funny and heartfelt collection of essays that hit deep, especially if you’re a Millennial who was a total nerd while growing up. It has definitely influenced the way I think about the corny, tacky, absolutely uncool things that I love and is the inspiration for this newsletter. “As far as I’m concerned, tackiness is joyfulness,” says King. “I hope that people learn how to have a fun time with the things they love, even the silly-seeming ones, before it’s too late.”
I couldn’t agree more.
A Recipe for Taste
It is always a delight to see how you light up when talking to your guests about their food experiences. I agree that we should never judge. Each of us has our likes and dislikes. We all experience restaurants with our own lens. Please continue sharing all of your experiences and highlight the rich array of options we have. Thank you.