I've been separated from the bulk of the
SABI team for the past month, living in the lush and beautiful Fremont, California (those who have been here will appreciate the irony of that statement), living the dream in my childhood home. While Shaan, Trevor, and Dan have been roaming the streets of Boulder, Denver, Durham, and even Hangzhou, China, meeting scores of amazing people and discovering new places, my now permanently asleep rear has been firmly planted in this chair, and my overstimulated eyeballs are about to explode from laptop radiation. This is not the adventure filled life I imagined when I decided to embark on this mission to turn
SABI into a success story that would reverberate through the ages. I'm broke and have more bills on the way because a driver reversed into my car that she claimed "wasn't there" when she looked. The most exciting thing I've done this month? I've taken to knitting. So you'll understand why I haven't had very much inspiration for this blog, and why I've taken a long reprieve from posting.
So life popped my bubble of naivety and handed me a giant truckload of lemons. And today, I've finally decided to pick myself up by my bootstraps, get my head out of the clouds, paint them silver, and make some mf amazing lemonade.
Thus far my posts have revolved around the revolutionary potential of
SABI, or its potential to make a real difference in our cultural landscape by shifting perspectives. But over the course of the past few weeks, I, along with the restaurant, have begun to sing a more realistic tune. I've come to understand that not everything will automatically fall into place, that the universe is not always on
SABI's (or my) side, and that almost everything is out of our control. So while the idea that
SABI could start a revolution is noble indeed, it's our immediate environment that we can control, and that's where our focus should be. Lofty ideals are great, but as the saying goes - it's the little things that make a true difference. And some of the most powerful differences we can make is on the people immediately surrounding us. Philip Yi demonstrates this every day within the walls of his restaurant,
Sushi Central.
It's not very big, and it certainly doesn't hold a candle in terms of decor to some of the fancier Japanese restaurants in Los Angeles. And if it were true that the restaurant business depends completely on "location, location, location", then
Sushi Central would go out of business within the week. But clearly there's more to it than that for
Sushi Central boasts not only some of the most loyal customers, but employees as well.
When you walk into the restaurant, you distinctly get the feeling that someone, or several someones, really care about this place. Why? Maybe it's Philip's booming voice welcoming you to his fine establishment. Maybe it's the charming placement of a giant gong in the middle of the floor. Maybe it's how unabashedly open the kitchen is, allowing you to see how carefully the chefs prepare all sorts of delectable fish for your enjoyment. Mostly, it's the fact that Philip is there every day, taking the time to converse with and get to know every one that walks into his restaurant. Shaan wrote about one instance of this on the
Sabi Sushi Blog a while back that serves as a perfect demonstration of this.
People can tell when you genuinely love something. And that love is infectious. This is, in my mind, without a doubt true. There's a bigger difference between an effort of 100% and 101% than just one percentage point. Philips extra effort at connecting and helping people who come into his life is without a doubt the reason why his little restaurant has survived the recession when so many others went out of business, and why
Sushi Central has even earned a celebrity following. He doesn't believe in coupons, or discounts, or sales, or any sort of price cutting technique of attracting sales. He tried it once, experienced a huge increase in traffic, and vowed never to do it again. Because he loved his restaurant too much to sell out and cheapen the value of what he offers.
Luckily for
SABI, this man has agreed to guide us to success. Because we definitely will take a page out of his book and realize that what
SABI will offer is more than just an out-of-this-world delicious custom-made freshly rolled sushi roll. There's a term gaining popularity among foodies as the 5th basic building block of taste called
umami. A word of Japanese origin, it describes the "good taste", or as I like to put it, the "oomph" that takes food from good to amazing.
SABI will offer
umami both in our food and in life. Come in and let the good times roll.
