W2 Blog

     During the softer moments of my hectic college life, I often reminisce about the foods I had in Japan. Flavors unique and unforgettable. When I compare them with the ever so consistent meals of Ohio University, my yearning to revisit Japan mysteriously materializes. It materializes in the form of stomach groans and poached lips. The dryness that you have to run your tongue over right before Thanksgiving.

     Before my first time visiting Japan, there was some foods I swore I would never try. Some things seemed so alien to me that the thought of enjoying them was preposterous. One food that stood above others was eel. Just the sight of them on the discovery channel sent hairs prickling on my neck. At one point, I entertained the idea of trying eel on my exchange. It resulted in a rash of goosebumps and audible sounds of disgust.

     One hot summer day in Japan, my host father came home with a ornate box. It was wrapped in ribbon and featured a pair of chopsticks slipped into the top bow. The sight of it immediately excited me. I hoped for nothing more than a box of ice cubes. Up until that point, my day was spent waving a fan in my face and practicing how to complain in Japanese.

     In retrospect, it seems the word of my no-no foods was leaked to several host families. My host dad revealed a slight smirk as he placed the food in front of me. The box was slowly untied after I gave my thanks. The moment I opened it, a wave of smell bombarded me. And all of the sudden, I was very hungry.

     I quickly dug into the food without a single question. The mystery meat was very sweet and soft. Something akin to baby back ribs ripe to fall off the bone. The box had a small pool of sauce that engulfed the fish. It made it's presence known. I could still taste that distinct hint of ocean despite that.

     After a few minutes of inhaling food, I turned to my father and inquired about what my lunch was. He quickly spat out the word. It was obvious he could barely contain his laughter. He walked into the other room and splayed on the couch, holding his sides in guffaws.

     I was in momentary shock after realizing I had just ate an underwater, electric snake. Time did it's work though. My initial anger quickly subsided. I found myself doing something I never thought. I entered my father's room the next day and asked for more eel in the near future.