Nairobi, Nov. 12 -- The plate reached the table, and I forgot that I was here to write about sushi pairing for a moment. Pink salmon rested on pale rice. One roll wore a coat of dark seaweed. Another glowed with orange fish eggs. Thin lines of sauce, brown and creamy white, curled across the plate. Beside it all sat a small green mound I did not trust. Beautiful food can still feel like a test you did not study for.

I had met that green mound before. Another time, I ate sushi somewhere else, and it left a bitter taste I will never forget. I never knew what it was. I only knew I had questions. What exactly was I eating? Was all of it raw? Which sauce belonged to which piece?

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