Sushi is one of those things that most anyone can get behind. It’s a Vancouver staple. Basically, roll anything in rice and you got yourself a happy populace. And wouldn’t you know it, there’s a sushi place in our own wonderful Nest. Its name conjures terms such as “academia”, “pedigree” and “unachievable”; it is, of course, Honour Roll.
The consequences of buying Honour Roll sushi are made abundantly clear as soon as you open the package. Some of you may have heard rumours of a creature called ‘the fish’ — they swim in water and eat pieces of filth that float in front of their two torpid eyes. They are one of the tastiest things around. The fish at Honour Roll should be trademarked “memories of fish”. Each slice tastes like its from the irradiated waters of the Bikini Atoll: an eight-eyed excuse for something aquatic.
I give them props for trying to salvage it with a spicy sauce, but adding slightly cleaner garbage to a disgusting heap of trash doesn’t change the fact that I’m being forced to live in it. My first day was ruined as my body screamed to me “why Tristan? I’ve given you so much and this is how you repay me?”
Regret is not strong enough of a word – Compunction?