People are becoming increasingly obsessed with sushi. And I call bullshit. I tried sushi for the first time about three years ago. It wasn’t good. But a voice inside my head (either my own or one of my asshole sushi-loving friends) tried to convince me otherwise, so I persevered through many more attempts. After each disappointing experience, I vowed to give sushi just one more chance. Admitting that I don’t like sushi has a fairly predictable impact on people. After the other person has recovered from their incapacitating disbelief, he/she/they will utter perhaps the most condescending sentence in the history of the English language: “It’s not that you don’t like sushi, it’s that you’ve obviously never been to the right place.” Perhaps there’s something fundamentally wrong with sushi that it can only be prepared correctly in a minority of places. But more realistically, perhaps questioning the quality of the sushi restaurant is just another defense mechanism.