So, I went to a different place today, but I had tuna again. The fish was sliced thinner than at the first place, and was slightly more wet, if that makes any sense. And this time, I ordered nigiri sushi, sashimi over sushi rice. (Sorry, didn’t have the camera with me.) I think I was able to stomach the nigiri sushi a little better than either the sashimi from Monday or the maki sushi (rolls) I had tried (quite unsuccessfully) a few years ago.

On the one hand, the texture of the rice was less obtrusive than with the maki, so I could tell clearly what was fish and what was rice. I think there being less rice relative to the amount of fish is key here. On the other hand, eating the sashimi alone Monday made me too aware of the different parts of the meat I was eating, like, “This is muscle, this is fat; they feel different between your teeth.”

So, though I avoided gagging, I did come close at one point. My strategy both Monday and today had been to have each piece of fish in two bites, so my mouth was never just full of fish. But the second piece today didn’t separate easily—I think there was some kind of fatty tissue sort of working against my faithful incisors. Knowing that putting fish in my mouth and then taking it back out again would have made me vomit, I just had to eat the whole piece.

I distracted myself from the urge to blow by drawing little figure-eights in my soy sauce, which, though undoubtedly boorish according to traditional sushi ettiquette, is probably less so than heaving in front of the sushi chef.