All That Was Missing Was ...

Back in the day, my wife, my father and I would come to Mr. Sushi a lot. I mean a lot. You don’t think of sushi in the desert, but Mr. Sushi was our place circa 1990, 1991 and for a while in 1992 (before our daughter came on the scene) before we moved to SF in 1993. We used to eat sushi with my father in Seattle at Nikko, our all-time, favorite, #1 sushi place, but for the desert, Mr. Sushi was as good as it got.

We have not been there in 12 years, and actually thought it had closed, but some friends were talking about it a few weeks ago. So, after a more than decade hiatus, tonight, we returned. Actually, with two massive freeways in place, Mr. Sushi is only 25 minutes from our house even though we live considerably farther away compared to the early ‘90s.

The food did not disappoint. We had tempura and all sorts of sushi. And, our course, all we talked about was our missing Mr. Sushi diner. The evening was great. All that was missing was my father.