and even made a roll with hummus and bell peppers. While most people may automatically associate sushi with raw fish, I’ve found it to be an excellent format for vegetable-based rolls as well.
Over the years, all this sushi-making led to an interest in developing sushi recipes that even the most sushi-averse would enjoy, as well as a passion for sustainability in sushi. These interests are two very big reasons why I’m so excited for Vegetarian Sushi Secrets. Marisa and I share a passion for feeding people and showing them just how delicious sushi can be. And what better way to promote sustainability than to prove that sushi can be crave-worthy even in the absence of fish?
To have an entire cookbook full of delicious vegetarian options is beyond exciting for me. At first glance, I’m already making a mental list of all the recipes I want to try, and then introduce to my vegetarian friends.
If you’re new to sushi, the inari and nigiri section (page 58) is a great place to start. In Japan, inari is the kids’ meal of sushi, which means it’s great for beginners. (And to be honest, many people—including myself—remain big fans of inari sushi well into adulthood!) As for nigiri, it’s simply a ball of rice topped with something—in this case, vegetables or a slice of Japanese-style omelette. If you’re hesitant about the seaweed aspect, as many people are, this is a great way to ease yourself into the world of sushi.
For those more familiar with Americanized sushi rolls, Marisa has created tasty vegetarian versions of all your favorites. From Spider Rolls made with mushrooms to Dynamite Rolls with tofu, to Caterpillar Rolls with her Vegetarian Eel Sauce, and even a vegetarian version of the classic California Roll, the best-known American takes on sushi make a great vegetarian showing in this cookbook.
One of the things I love most about Marisa, as evidenced beautifully by both of her cookbooks, is that she isn’t afraid to get creative with sushi while still staying true to the traditional techniques and spirit. Whether you’re strictly vegan, wanting to eat more sustainably, or just trying to get more vegetables in your life, there’s something for everyone in this cookbook!
Allison Day
author of Sushi Day blog
My Life with Sushi
How I Become a Sushi Chef
It always begins with the same question: Why sushi? My relationship with sushi began in the invincibility phase of my early twenties. Even though I was fortunate to own and operate a restaurant, catering company and coffeehouse, I was suffering a significant case of career wanderlust. I knew something was missing and I felt that I wasn’t “there” yet. To help with that inner nagging and keep me on my toes, my businesses offered so many food services that I was forced to be creative. At that time, you could call the Chocolate Giraffe and ask me to consider crafting a custom menu or experience. In a small Mississippi college town with limited options, this was a great source of fun. It was inconsistent. Problematic. But it answered my need for variety.
I can recall that fateful day when a local orthodontist asked to reserve the entire space for a private party. I was excited, but I was also beside myself because the request was for a sushi party. I nodded with enthusiasm as I recorded requests for items like miso soup, seaweed salad, spicy tuna, crunchy shrimp, and all manner of exotic things I had never heard of, much less attempted to create. I wanted to cry. Yet I stayed cool on the outside under the weight of fear and the stares of disbelief from my employees.
As soon as the session was over, I flipped out. I had promised to create an experience built around something I had never once seen or tasted in person. I had no way to run out to my local sushi bar and have a sushi experience, because there wasn’t one in town. The nearest place was several hours away, and I didn’t have the time to make the journey. For the first time, I wondered if I had bitten off way more than I could chew.
Armed with my library card, I ventured down the street to the public library and checked out as many books on Japan and Japanese cuisine as I was allowed. Much to my dismay, there were very few sources that spent significant time on the subject of sushi. (Blogs and informative web-sites were not a thing just yet.) What little information I did find I studied intensively. I became a little more comfortable with the idea.
The next hurdle was trying to locate the exotic ingredients. My local Asian market had some of the basics—rice, soy sauce and rice vinegar. But where was I supposed to get sushi-grade tuna, katsuobushi (smoked fish used to make basic Japanese soup stock), or shichimi togarashi (Japanese seven-flavored pepper blend)? The necessary equipment was also a problem. Even if I could find them, could I justify to my business partners (aka Mom and Dad) the need for carbon-steel knives, a hangiri (the flat-bottomed bowl with straight sides made of cypress used only for marinating sushi rice), a shamoji (the wooden paddle used only for tossing steamed sushi rice with the dressing), and a large rice cooker just for this one party? I knew better than to even ask.
Tofu and Avocado Caterpillar Rolls (page 97)
The author enjoying sushi with friends
I had to improvise with my ingredients as well as with the tools I needed to make the sushi. My staff and I spent an incredible amount of energy perfecting a cold smoker for salmon and figuring out how many bricks and cans were needed to weigh down the lid of a pot to cook rice on the stove. When we couldn’t source suggested ingredients like pickled eggplant, we used what we felt were suitable substitutions—like the local staple, pickled okra.
Somehow we made it work. The party was a success. And that should have been enough. But when people found out that the Chocolate Giraffe served sushi (just that once), the requests for more kept coming in. Naturally, I promised we would start having sushi nights once a month. That turned into once every two weeks, then once a week, and then finally a small portion of the regular restaurant menu was dedicated to sushi. We were the talk of the town!
I couldn’t believe how much people loved our sushi. One day, I received a long-distance call with reservations for twelve! The man on the phone sounded so excited to bring his out-of-town colleagues to Starkville, more than an hour’s drive, for a sushi experience. We prepared and waited anxiously for them to arrive. But the moment the businessman from one of Mississippi’s car manufacturing plants arrived with his eleven male colleagues from Japan, I went to the restroom, locked myself in, and cried. I knew my sushi was far from authentic, and I finally decided that I was no longer an invincible “sushi chef” who would remain beloved and sheltered in my small Mississippi hometown. My staff knocked on the door and tried to lure me out. They threatened to call my parents. I eventually emerged to face the situation that I had wholeheartedly gotten myself into. And somehow, we made it work. The guests were delighted by the idea of creative American-style sushi. On that night, I decided I wanted to stand in front of customers with confidence and knowledge about sushi.
I searched high and low for a way to gain that knowledge. Just outside of Los Angeles, there was a place that seemed to offer exactly what I was looking for—the California Sushi Academy. Finally, I had the answer. Imagine my surprise when my family and friends asked if I was going crazy. Who ever heard of a black female sushi chef?! Couldn’t I just be content to continue making sushi in Starkville? I closed the businesses,
