more mystery meatballs: the mother of all sushi meals tokyo

to begin this blog with a bang, i decided to put all my photos from lunch at sushi-ya mao up. the post is photo heavy so please indulge me and give them .jpgs some time to load. it's worth the wait! for those in the know, sushi-ya mao at hotel seiyo ginza in tokyo is one of the most exquisite sushi restaurants on the planet, even them michelin men seem to think so. now i generally am distrusting of the michelin men who want to confer stars on japanese establishments (what would their french palates know about sushi??!) but in a similar vein, what would my peranakan palate, courtesy of many generations of sambal belachan coursing through my veins know? :)

anyhoos, this was by far the bestest ever sushi i've ever had and it was so good that it's made me sworn off sushi for awhile, at least until the memory of lunch fades some, because everything else now will be awfully inferior in comparison. that's how good it was. and that's how sore i am that i ate at sushi-ya mao on my first day in tokyo. completely robbed me of my subsequent tsukiji joy. think i might've picked at one chirashi but that was it. for the rest of my time in tokyo, it was tempura, ramen, katsu-don, yakitori and soft ice cream all the way. even now back home, i can't stomach sushi because it won't be from sushi-ya mao. how ruinous :(

allow me to introduce you to chef ichiyanagi-san who was nothing short of poetry in motion. part of the dining experience was to sit in wide-eyed wonder, amazed at his deftness and skill. it was sushi kongfu of the highest order and by the end of the meal, i was in love. it took every bit of restraint to stop myself from screaming something i'd later regret when the sushi coma wore off, something along the lines of, "LEMMEHAVEYERBABIES!!!" teehee. but my breath did catch in a certain way as i watched him prepare the sushi and i had that unfamiliar feel in the pit of my stomach, the "uh oh" moment at the start of something exciting.