Sushi in the Supermarket

The Guardian’s decision to start a monthly column on supermarket grub got off to a spirited start this week with a survey of sushi. The subject, admittedly, is a contradiction in terms. By Japanese standards of rawness, freshness, and precision, supermarket sushi does not exist. At best it’s a compromise, edible or inedible depending on your attitude to what you are offered, what it costs,  what it looks like, and what it contains. 

 At worst, well, let’s say that the chosen  £4 pack from M&S fared surprisingly badly with a score of only four out of ten, though Tesco did worse with a score of two for a pack costing £3.30.  Only Waitrose came through the test-run with what could be called flying colours. Yet its score of eight for a pack priced the same as M&S’s (though its weight, which was surely a consideration, was not made clear) did not mean that their product was much closer to being Japanese. It was, however, deemed genuinely tasty in its own right. Personally, as a Waitrose customer, I thought it looked better (classier as the Guardian put it) than most of the others, and marginally more reminiscent perhaps of the real thing. 

But what added up to the real thing clearly perplexed many readers, and the Guardian’s judgment process did seem maybe over-dependent on where it was approaching the subject from.  Although package weight must have been taken into account,  how much of this was, in fact, simply bread? Glancing at supermarket shelves as the day wears on, I find that sushi packs look less and less inviting, so much so that the answer seems to be to walk straight on.

Interestingly enough, the Co-op scored remarkably well (six out of ten) for what was the cheapest (and, it must be admitted, the lightest in weight) of all the packs.  All such surveys, of course, tend to be led by one person’s opinion, which is fine if you agree with its basic philosophy.  In the case of sushi, I would say, appearance is not unimportant (the Boots pack, as pictured by the Guardian, looks particularly unattractive . 

Perhaps the answer to the problem is simply this:  steer clear of supermarket sushi and opt instead, if you have the time and money, for a proper sushi restaurant. The Edinburgh recommendation at present is the place in Grindlay Street, near the Lyceum Theatre, though my daughters and their friends, when they have the cash, favour Harvey Nichols.  Email me at wilson.conrad@ymail.com and give me your opinion.

7 June 2014

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