One of the reasons I love the Bay Area, besides getting to spend time with the Violent Femmes, of course, is the great eating down there. This time around was no exception and the newest thing to cross my path was not sushi, not a burrito, but their love child, the
sushirrito.
"A fresh way to roll" indeed are these burrito-sized nori rolls, filled with sustainably sourced fresh fish, organic rice, and plenty of freshy, tasty veggies. "El Tigre" (pictured above) is Ahi Tuna along with julienned carrots, radish, cucumber, cabbage, beets, with a spicy honey mustard ringing in at $10.50
The "Casanova" is steelhead salmon with arugula, radish, tomatillo salsa, avocado, and a white soy ponzu sauce for $9.50.
Surprisingly substantial, these giant rolls had two highly trained professional eaters crying uncle at the end. We were defeated by some giant sushi rolls.
But what forces would bring about such a thing as a sushirrito? And is something like this really greater than the sum of its parts or just a half-imitation of neither? In order to better understand the roots of fusion, I had my co-worker Thom, who doth protest too much he's just an ordinary guy, put "contemporary cuisine into the context of the artistic and cultural movements of the 20th century: Modernism, and Postmodernism:"
Modernism is typically understood as an intentional break from the traditional and the classical. In culinary terms, this equates to Nouvelle Cuisine with its departure from so-called traditional dishes and techniques. Auguste Escoffier is attributed to be among the early pioneers in this innovation, but the ever-modern Nouvelle broke even further from his sensibilities with its emphasis on delicacy, presentation and lightness. The style features fresh, seasonal ingredients, small portions with visually exquisite presentation. Sauces are reduced rather than thickened with roux. Elements are chosen for the inherent qualities they embody, and meals are elaborate compositions of sequential courses. To experience an excellent example of this kind of food one could have a meal at Seattle’s “Mistral” restaurant. For those who like to pay less and can tolerate images of misogyny and brutality, nouvelle cuisine also plays a key role in the film “American Psycho.”
Postmodernism, on the other hand, emphasizes self-conscious appropriation of other styles, collaging known elements in unusual contexts, and a general distrust of the canonical practices of the past. Postmodernism can also incorporate the concentration of modernist ideals. One culinary example of Postmodernism is what is known as Fusion. In this style of cuisine, recognizable elements from disparate cultures are brought together in a juxtaposition of flavors and forms. An early expression of this phenomenon in Seattle is the “pan-Asian” restaurant “Wild Ginger.” Recognizable elements from many Asian cultures are served at the same table. As the movement continues, the cultural references are found in the same dish and more and more diverse combinations are being made. I’ve often been known to be skeptical of fusion food describing the practices as “bringing the food of two cultures together and watering it down to suit an American taste.” But, happily, I have been proven wrong many times....
The fusion impulse has taken two distinct paths, which I will label “organic” or “natural” fusion and “contrived” or “artistic” fusion. The terms “organic” and “contrived” have other connotations, so I’ll use the alternate terms.
In natural fusion, culturally specific dishes, techniques, and sensibilities are transported to new geographies and adopt local ingredients. A classic example of this is the California Roll. In the 1960’s, Ichiro Mashita, a Japanese sushi chef in Los Angeles was unable to obtain toro (fatty tuna). He found that a satisfying texture could be achieved using avocado (I don’t know how the fake crab got in there). Another example is Hawaii’s Spam Musubi, with it’s odd (yet palatable) insertion of American industrial canned meat into a roll of rice and seaweed. By contrast, artistic fusion is the intentional juxtaposition of disparate food cultures.
So sushirrito is the artistic fusion of one inventive man looking to marry two pretty distinctive food cultures. A sushi roll of such gigantic proportions would probably cause most Japanese people to recoil in disgust and there's not much Mexican flavoring to these big wraps. However, if one comes to them with neither expectation or preconception of something needing to be Japanese nor Mexican, the sushirrito as its own invention is a pretty tasty and healthy creation.
I do have to relay one more Thomism, which is related to my observation that when judging any restaurant, the proof is in the patrons. Who shows up to eat what you've envisioned is the ultimate testimony to whether your food really accomplishes what it means to. Here in Seattle, we find lots of mixed couples patronizing said fusion restaurants and Thom observes that "mixed couples are a natural fusion unto themselves (could these people’s children be the human equivalent of California rolls . . . imagine basinets filled with Spam musubi!) And now we can add to that list, the sushirrito!
I, for one, am a fan and hope that a branch moves up here to Seattle sometime soon.
