I work at a school that could pass for a mini version of the United Nations. Lunchtime is a gastronomic phenomenon. A Vegemite sandwich just no longer cuts it. I get particular lunch-box envy when I nosily peek into the lunchboxes of my students who are of a Korean background. It ain't about Keeping Up With the Jones' anymore. It's about keeping up with the Kims/Parks/Lees.
These kids get beautifully packaged meals filled with delicate, handmade morsels. I must have expressed my lunchbox envy quite noisily on a number of occasions, because I now often get boxes of handmade sushi/rice rolls/ kim chi sent in for me by some of my Korean families.
I always figured this sushi-rolling business was quite complicated. But hey, if Mrs Kim can just whip out some beautifully executed sushi on a weeknight to be put in little Johnny's lunchbox- it can't be that hard. Right?
Before the seeds of my lunchbox envy had been planted, I had actually resolved to learn to roll sushi. #7 on The List.
Luckily for me, I have a friend who is all kindsa awesome who also happens to be a very capable sushi-roller. So one Saturday evening, we had a sushi party. Ch-ch-ch-ch-check it out, Korean mums of the world. I too can roll sushi.
And we devoured our sushi as we watched the Oscar-winning Best Film of 1982, Gandhi (#16 on The List: Watch every film that has won the Oscar for Best Movie since my birth year.) I hear you ask, "What's that sound?"
It's the sound of my 30x30 list being smashed to smithereens.