Sushi on Sundays

We have a Sunday tradition of ordering poke for dinner. 

Two years ago, a poke place opened right across the street from our apartment. (PEEP BABY RIYU IN HIS STROLLER PLEASE).

We’d go there every once in a while, but lately one of Ishu’s favorite meals has been avocado rolls. Rice, avocado, seaweed. With a side of edamame. (We usually buy steamed rice and edamame and then assemble everything at home with seaweed and avocado we already have.)

And Ankur and I love ordering poke bowls. (Riyu usually shares from both of ours. His favorite part is always the pickled radishes.)

A few weeks ago, I was so fed up with the constant, “Whaddya want for dinner?” conversation. I think this is true for most parents, but it feels especially hard right now because my kid really would rather do anything than eat. Even when he’s hungry. So.

I could literally be like, “DO YOU WANT CHICKEN NUGGETS FOR DINNER OR PIZZA FOR DINNER?” And he’d just look at me and say, “No.” 

So, Ankur pulled out his trusty Notes app and decided to thematically organize our meals. Monday is mac & cheese (or some form of pasta). Tuesday is tacos. Wednesday is wraps (Ishu gets such a kick out of the fact that the “w” in “wrap” is silent). AND SUNDAY IS SUSHI. 

This past Sunday, we were sitting on the couch eating our poke bowls. And I felt this wave of warmth and familiarity wash over me.

I looked over at Ankur and said, “I FREAKING LOVE SUSHI SUNDAYS. This is probably why people like traditions so much. It’s so NICE AND FAMILIAR AND EASY.” 

I’m not sure this particular tradition will last once we move away from this apartment. But it’s been bringing me so much joy lately. Partially because it’s delicious and something to look forward to each week. And partially because my brain really appreciates the rest that comes from not having to think about what’s for dinner.

It’s funny how “Sushi Sundays” turned into this tiny pocket of calm in the middle of all our chaos.

Long live Sushi Sundays.

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