I really love sushi.
Unfortunately, Thailand–and particularly Mae Sot–doesn’t seem like a wise place to try sushi. I have seen it occasionally at a night market, and there is one restaurant in town we pass that advertises for it.
But I’ve been hesitant.
Until last night, we were heading out for a dinner date and Stephen suggested we brave it. This is always so sweet of him to suggest, because it means he eats something obscure on the menu while I really enjoy it.
And that’s precisely how it played out. I tried a Chicago roll and loved it. He ate his teaspoon-sized portion of chicken teriyaki and didn’t complain.
…And today, I’m at home very, very sick.
Related? Perhaps.
It’s a very fine line between stupidity and bravery.