The Sushi House

My path to sushi-loving was not straightforward and lined with chopsticks.
When sushi bars with their revolving, treadmill-like belts first came on the scene in South Africa in the late 90s, my brother and his wife tried to indoctrinate me in the ways of raw fish and seaweed, but ultimately failed.

A decade passed, and with it my teens and early twenties. As I grew up, my taste buds did as well.
Asparagus, olives, avocado and many, many types of vegetables once avoided suddenly became delicious to me.
Included in this list: sushi.

Handy tip for picking a "safe" place to eat raw fish? Look at the queues!
Are the locals flocking? Is turn-over good? Then you've got a winner.
(I recall an ex-colleague who phoned into work sick with the trots because she had eaten a quick meal of sushi from her local all-night petrol garage fridge. 'Nuff said!)

Enter The Sushi House in Hamilton, New Zealand.
The variety of sushi to behold there is truly breathtaking. The prices are supremely reasonable. Crumbed items are on their own trays, so zero cross-contamination. The pickled ginger (a favourite of mine) can be loaded up on your plate to your liking. The atmosphere is calm. The decor is soothing and simple. The green tea is free.
Lovely!