A horrible five-hour bus ride home. Caterwauling babies, purple-faced, punching the air...a fat lady belching, softly singing "karma cham-ee-lee-on" along with her iPod...people cutting in the line to get on and angry mobs ejecting them...horrible. I had a pleasant conversation with the fellow sitting next to me, however. I read Mohsin Hamid's novel Moth Smoke during the ride, and it was good. Effective both as a character study and a sketch of class issues in contemporary Pakistan. Its nonfiction counterpart (which is far more gripping and which has dug a comfortable niche in my memory) in my recent reading history is Bernard Henri-Levy's book Who Killed Daniel Pearl?, which explores nuclear-age fundamentalism and terror in Pakistan. I'd recommend both highly.
A while back I wrote about a mysterious sushi bar I had heard about--the "best sushi in the city"--that was up some stairs and had no sign, etc., and I couldn't locate it...well, I found that place. It's by no means hidden or secret, just... unobtrusive. I had the location wrong. I was two doors off.
On Thursday I went there and had astonishing sushi. Sea urchin--"uni"--and toro so exquisite the brain salivates in recollection. (That toro was the best food I've ever eaten. No use to try description.) Have you ever seen sea urchin, naked and raw, prepared for you to eat it? It looks exactly like a bright, orange human tongue. In many restaurants it is gross but in this one it was incredible. With regard to taste and texture--if chilled--it might best be imagined as sort of creamy foie gras ice cream.
Doesn't that sound delicious? If you doubt me, I'll have sushi with you there anytime. You pay.