The True Origins
of a Modern Delicacy
As told to me by a Lady
Yamayoshi 
from the old Imperial Household
Translated by Rick
Tornello © 2021
Once upon a time
ago, upon the seas a ship did go.
From a port on Hainan Island with
fair winds and calm seas its bow did foam.
Loaded freight and crew were right.
Balanced well sailing days and nights.
To home Japan the stars guided that ship
well built with bulkheads tight.
Without warning upon the ship a typhoon
huge with all mighty natures might fell.
The rudder splintered-ripped and apart it
came; the sails were all but gone.
While the mast were no more than stumps
and toothpicks of the poorest kind.
The good ship and crew at the mercy of
the gods did cry and wail all to no avail.
Upon some shore some alive were thrown.
Soggy, wet, beat up, almost totally drown.
Some with sense crawled to higher above
the tides ground
and there shivering waited out that great
winds ultimate doom.
As if nothing untoward had occurred, the
next morn the great orb
in cloudless sky brightly shown.
The ship or what was left, in splinters
on the beach like a dead wale thrown.
Those that alive were left, all battered
crawled to the boat and supplies searched.
Bruised, stomachs with deep pangs of
hunger, water needed to quench their
quest
Some water was found but food stores…
none, all lost.
At least at a minimum some days to them
were given.
“What to do,” one cried in vain.
“With water and time we’ll make
a plan,” said one other a bit more
sane.
He, looking about found some fish upon
the shore dead and bloated.
But fresh floating in their wrecked boat
he found, now elated.
The salt water preserved them at least
for now but how to eat with all matches
and wood soaked.
Two others sat around head in hands,
shocked and useless by normal standards
moaned.
Our smart one said, “We’ll eat
them raw at least it’s food.”
“I’ll gag,” screamed one
“I’ll die,” moaned yet
another and cried out for his long dead
mother.
“Oh come on it can’t be bad.
Maybe wrapped in this seaweed here it
will taste too add.”
He lied of course but something had to be
done. These dunderheads would rather die
then try.
So with a knife he found, the fish he
sliced and seaweed bound.
He ate some in front of the crew, quietly
gaging stated, “It’s
really good. Try some too.”
He thought a bit while the others soon
too hungry to say no, slowly onto this
foul meal fell.
They survived this terrible ordeal and
were eventually rescued in a fortnight
tell.
“How did you live?” family
asked when back to land they made fall.
The smart one told them about the fish
and weeds then thought of something new.
He showed them all what he had done and
then wrapped it in rice and soy sauce
plunged.
Add wasabi and what a feast.
All about wanted a taste and to today no
fish goes to waste.
Some one asked what he called it.
“Got no Matches to cook food”
which translated to Sushi in
that so ancient dialect.
And unknown to most, so called, it
remains today.
As told to me, what can I say? |
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