Testing Terrible Grocery Store Sushi in Mexico

This is the most predictable disaster in culinary history

Time to read: 3 mins | November 5, 2016

I have committed to researching all facets of Mexican life. Or, at least those I feel like testing on a random tipsy whim.

Right now, that’s grocery store sushi. You know, that overpriced & over-riced plastic tray you know you won’t enjoy, but you buy once a week anyway out of misguided hope.

Turns out they have the same thing in Mexico, except, upon visual inspection, way worse. I’ve brought home a combo pack called ‘Sushi Adventuro’. It cost me sixty pesos – about three dollars – which is also failing to boost my confidence.

I’ve poured myself a rum and rum and rum and coke to wash this down with. I have my computer, a cocktail, and what looks to be a diuretic sushi roll. I shall live blog my ‘adventuro’:

For starters, I’m not sure what I’m looking at. The 12-piece roll has three different toppings: one is definitely fish, and one looks like seaweed salad.


The last bit is covered in some unidentified white substance, like the stuff I imagine Anderson Cooper uses in his hair.

I’m going with the fish piece first, for safety reasons, and it’s exactly what you’d expect. Sort of like getting a kiss goodnight after a third date: good, but not what you’re hoping for.

Eating more of the fish pieces before moving on, out of fear. But I really shouldn’t have been – the seaweed salad pieces are actually better. I’m assuming every piece is stuffed with the same thin cucumber and imitation crab meat, so the only difference is the toppings. And seaweed salad isn’t bad at all.

But now I’ve reached a crossroads. I ate all the seaweed salad pieces, and then I ate all the fish pieces. Meaning all that’s left are these mysterious, terrifying white pieces. I still don’t know what they are.


I’ve poked them with splintery chopsticks and confirmed it’s not meat. I tried asking them to identify themselves, but didn’t get a response.

A long swallow of cocktail for courage. Here we go…


I get that some of you weirdos out there like cream cheese in your sushi, but even the staunchest bagel lovers amongst you can’t want your roll wrapped in a quarter-inch layer of the stuff. And I can guarantee, from extremely recent experience, you don’t want a roll wrapped in suspiciously warm and sour Mexican cream cheese. Holy hot fetid garbage, Batman.

The last two pieces of sushi are in the trash. I’ve rinsed my mouth with rum and, as a precaution, will be sitting on the toilet for the next six hours.

Research project: complete.


photo: a chain-hung mini chandelier that’d be way cooler without that standard bulb

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Malcolm Freberg
Malcolm Freberg
American writer living permanently on the road. Believes rye whiskey is superior to bourbon, Belle is the best Disney princess, and that selfie sticks should be snapped in half on sight. Hosted a travel documentary for AOL & played Survivor a few times.
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