I looked around the restaurant and could almost feel the mountain air hugging the walls. It felt colder now, and fatigue from fighting these psychological specters set in.
“Your head becomes weary from your travels, the unknown land challenges your legs and body, your mind and soul. Soon you come upon a breathtaking river so clean and flowing quickly without danger. You wish to cleanse your body, to become part of the land. And so, in the hours before dark you make your way down the riverbed to an open grassy shoreline.
“Futamono transports us to this river, where you swim free in the cool, clean waters. You can feel the sunshine come through the trees on the riverbank, penetrate the depths of the slowly moving water, and reach your skin.”
He pulled a plate toward himself which held a length of raw eel and employing some type of butchery knife I had never seen before, he chopped quickly through the tough flesh to reveal a maze of thin soft bones throughout. He ground down further and wiggled the knife in such a way there was a crunching and soft snapping like the bristles of Sanford’s heavy-duty broom sweeping the hot sidewalk. His wrists worked delicately and quickly until there were two perfectly deboned chunks of skin-wrapped, translucent eel meat glistening clean on display.
“Your bones are heavy, your skull is heavy, yet in this river you float with freedom and become what you wish to be in that moment.”
With chopsticks he plucked up one of the identical pieces and placed it into my cup of clear broth and placed a lid atop, passing it to me with open hands.
I lifted the lid as he spoke. “The sun slides by, reflecting it’s generous light down through the clear water.” The light passing through the broth and an eclipse of the lid slowly exposed the scene, as the eel sunk down briefly then wavered back up to the surface. Within seconds it began to curl and plump, blossoming before me like some exotic forest flower.
The bowl itself looked like a hollowed-out stone, as I lifted it to my lips it even felt smooth and porous to the touch as a riverbed might reflect. I sipped the broth and inhaled the clean floral aroma. There was an earthy finish that had me expecting to see riverbed dirt smudged on my palms afterward.
I bit into the hamo and felt its release from a lifelong strife of travel and search, the flesh was subtle, the skintight but thin. These textures of fish in this vivid broth were just as complex and complimentary here as I imagined them to have been in nature.
“Revitalized and clean, you come out of the river.” Aira placed his own bowl down, cleaned completely. “The night comes to you as shelter and you sleep deeply under the stars with no blanket but a fresh, thin cloak of trust in your surroundings. You feel strength engulfing your soul.”
I closed my eyes to see pinholes like stars in my mind, I heard the night sky twinkling with life from the trees above and the smooth flow of the river crawling over glossy rocks and carrying the faint aroma of flower petals as it went.
Mesmerizing.
An excerpt from somewhere deep within The Sushi Prophecies