For a while, I passed the sushi aisle, feeling put out that I couldn’t eat my favorite, quick meal because I’d “given it up due to the packaging, blah, blah, blah.” Sure, I could still eat it fresh at a restaurant any day, but I just wasn’t so sure the handsome, smiling, Japanese man behind the counter at the commissary would be willing to place the homemade sushi rolls in the empty container I held out. Besides the fact, I’d have to arrive at just the right moment—first thing in the morning when they opened–while he created them, but before he packaged the lovely rolls. I had to time it just right…it seemed like such a pain.
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