A small part of Academia, probably

Mike was ecstatic when he heard his name called. He had just won his labs raffle, which was a meal for two at Sushi Kurosaki, the hip, newly Michelin-starred, omakase restaurant downtown. 

Growing up, Mike’s fine dining experiences were limited to Chinese take-out, or on special occasions, Applebee’s - but only after 10pm for half-priced apps. Now, as a first year PhD student in New York City his dining habits were arguably even worse, save the occasional birthday meal. Having just watched Jiro Dreams of Sushi, he was ready to stop salivating at his screen and finally get a taste of the real deal. 

Mike had invited his friend and fellow PhD student, David, to join him on his foray into fine dining. After work, they headed over together, not really sure what to expect from the restaurant, but excited nonetheless. 

When they arrived, the hostess checked them in and asked them to wait in the lobby. The restaurant waiting area looked like a swanky hotel lobby, complete with a large L-shaped couch and a modern-looking bar. As they sat down, the pair looked around and immediately looked at each other.

“Are we underdressed..” David asked. They were surrounded by a bunch of corporate-looking men in suits. Mike was wearing a mildly-wrinkled denim shirt and a pair of khakis that were a little bit off-khaki at that point. David, luckily, had given a talk earlier in the day, so he had on a collared-shirt, but it was definitely not a suit. Mike frantically googled the Sushi Kurosaki dress code, and was relieved to find that there wasn’t a strict dress code, but the pair still couldn’t help but feel out of place.

Fortunately, their corporate networking event was cut short as their seat was ready. Mike and David followed the hostess to the sushi bar, that was helmed by a line of Japanese chefs in the midst of various sushi activites, such as packing rice in their hands or slicing a thin strip of meat from a large slab of tuna. The hostess pulled out their designated seats at the bar.

“Please sit all the way back in the seat” she instructed. Mike did as he was told, but before he could fully process how specific of an ask that was, he was violently thrusted in his seat towards the bar, his knees smashing into the wall of the bar clearly built for people smaller than him. He stared in shock at the hostess, a petite Japanese woman, more so impressed by the amount of force exerted by her small body than upset that his knee was now in pain. David, having learned from Mike’s mistake, quickly sunk back as far as he could, his knees surviving the hostess’s power push by a thread. 

Afterwards, the waiters handed out hot towels to all the newly seated guests at the bar, and Mike and David began cleaning their hands. However, from the corner of their eyes they noticed that the waiter was still standing very closely behind them, as if about to say something or expecting something from the pair. They gave each other confused sideways glances, unsure of what they were supposed to do in this situation. And so they continued to clean their hands with the towel, trying to be as meticulous as possible. David was on his 9th finger nail when they saw a neighboring guest put down the towel on a tray the waiter had placed beside them. Mike and David looked down and, sure enough, they each had their own tray that had seemingly appeared out of thin air. They immediately put their towels down and the waiter quickly took them away without saying a word. 

It seemed like the pre-meal pleasantries were finally coming to an end, and Mike and David were getting ready to eat the sushi of their dreams. The chefs gently set the first piece of the meal in front of the guests. “King Salmon!” They announced. Mike reached for his chopsticks while he glanced around at the people around him. He always found a little bit of amusement when people around him struggled with chopsticks, a utensil he had been using all his life. Unfortunately, no one seemed to be reaching for their chopsticks to satisfy Mike’s schadenfreude, and he couldn’t wait any longer to eat the piece of salmon in front of him. As he reached for the sushi with his chopsticks, he suddenly felt the needles from all the eyes around him staring. Unsure what was happening, Mike reluctantly put the piece of sushi in his mouth, only to realize that everyone else at the bar was using their hands. 

He didn’t dwell on this for too long as he was suddenly flung to a different dimension. Mike quickly understood why this piece of salmon was called the king as it seemingly melted into his mouth. It had a perfect mix of seasoning, the chef had hidden a small dab of wasabi under the fish and then painted over the salmon with the soy sauce. The ideal blend of umami and spice that Mike would be thinking about for years to come. He slowly descended back down to Earth to see if David had the same euphoric experience. David was already staring at Mike with his mouth wide open, in a similar state of amazement. The rest of the meal went on without a hitch, as Mike and David ascended from one level of sushi heaven to the next, each piece better than the last. 

After the meal, the two were thoroughly impressed by their dining experience. 

“You know, I might actually be willing to pay the usual $200 dollar price tag to have that again,” David thought out loud.

“I wonder how much better that meal was because it was free” Mike asked. “You know, I could really go for some dessert after that.” The two looked around for potential dessert spots. Across the street they saw their go to spot - a safe space free from the piercing eyes of other, much more well off, patrons. McDonald’s.

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We’re terribly sorry, our ice cream machine is actually out of order right now.