Are you a sushi fact whiz? Test your food trivia smarts with this fun sushi trivia and facts quiz.

When I was a kid, eating raw fish was considered bizarre, and admitting a love for the stuff was comparable to outing oneself as a tree-worshipper or part-time sword swallower. In its own, strange way, it was cool, but it also put one in the same category as the classmate who ate paste or the kid who sometimes set fire to things.

My parents, who had lived in Asia, were huge fans of sushi and sashimi, which meant that much of my childhood was spent traveling from one squalid Japanese restaurant to another in search of honest-to-goodness fresh fish. My sisters and I usually crunched tempura while my parents gobbled down morsels of hamachi, toro, sake, and saba, rating the various venues and moaning about how good the stuff was. As time went on, the claims that this was "grownup food" started holding less and less water; by the time I was ten, the whole family was in love with raw fish.

Lots of people love a good piece of sashimi and nigiri sushi, and most of us are willing to pay more for a higher quality fish. The only question is whether or not you're getting what you paid for.

Last week there was an article in the New York Times about two teenage girls and their fish-y experiment. The students got 60 different samples of fish from 4 sushi restaurants and 10 supermarkets and sent them off to a lab in Canada. About 60% of the fish were mislabeled, and in general cheaper fish were masquerading as more expensive fish. Apparently no one knows what red snapper is.

There's a lot more science in the New York Times article, but what's really important is that so many people who should know what fish is what have been selling it under the wrong name. I'm sure that there are some unscrupulous vendors out there willing to make a quick buck, but I prefer to think that it's mainly just people making mistakes. What do you think about possibly paying more for cheaper fish?

Peter Menzel, author and photographer of the book Hungry Planet, has a fascinating photo essay on Time.com featuring "What the World Eats" - a look at the types of food families around the world consume, the amount a typical family will spend on groceries each week, plus their favorite foods or recipes.

The difference between countries, of course, is staggering. For instance, one featured American family spends an average of $341.98 on food each week, whereas the family from Chad spends approximately $1.23. The Japanese family lists sashimi and potato chips among their favorite foods, while the Egyptians say Okra with Mutton is one of their typical family recipes.

You can view the entire slide show at Time.com, and if you are interested in reading more, Menzel's book covers 30 families over 24 countries and 600 meals.

(thanks, angorian!)

Remember last year, or maybe it was even two years ago, when I did an "occasional" series called School of Fish wherein I waxed poetically about everything from anago (sea eel) to tamago (sweet egg omelet)? Were you were paying attention?

Well, now's a good time to test yourself! Jonesblog has put together a lovely post full of pictures of various types of sushi. It's not super-detailed, but the pictures are pretty and the descriptions are good enough to help you order when you sidle up to the bar.

If ever you found yourself craving, eating, and worshiping sushi as if in some strange cult-like manor, you might not be far off.

Many may know about Reverend Sun Myung Moon, the self-proclaimed Messiah who claimed he was destined to be the savior of humanity. Reverend Moon founded the controversial Unification Church, popularly known as a religious group called the "Moonies." Don't recall? Then remember his large-scale mass weddings in Madison Square Garden and other locations in Asia? That was the Moonies. Many have called it a cult.

Well, those who have alleged that Reverend Moon and his "Moonies" are a cult have been indirectly supporting the movement if Moon and his followers every time they indulge in sushi. That's right. Reverend Moon, unbeknownst most people, has created an empire of seafood, integrating themselves into almost every facet of the seafood industry from fishing to putting those two pieces of fatty, buttery, melt-in-you-mouth toro on you plate.

The True World Group comprises fleets of boats, operates distribution centers and supplies fish and seafood to most of the 9,000 sushi restaurants around the US. The True World Group is controlled by a non-profit company called Unification Church International Inc., or UCI.

The Chicago Tribune did a full investigative story, even going so far as to listing restaurants in the Chicago area that are supplied by True World.

The question is, does this bother people enough to change their sushi eating habits? Does it even matter?

[photo: The Delicious Life]

We've been making our tour around the sushi bar these days, covering different kinds of fish. Though most of us adore the silky smooth raw fish, let's not forget that the word "sushi" actually refers to the sweet, vinegared rice. It's not about the fish (that's technically, but I too, would cry a Pacific Ocean if I had to eat sushi without the fish).

Since it's not just about the fish, that means there are some vegetarian-ish options available at the sushi bar. I learned all about these, as well as the "cooked" fish in sushi during my sister's pregnancy. One of the most common non-fish options is tamago, which is a sweetened egg omelet. The omelet is cut into the same shape and size as sushi fish, and placed on the rice.

We've already talked about cucumber rolls, kappa maki, in a previous post. However, the use of vegetables in rolls doesn't stop there. A sushi chef can basically make a roll with any one or combination of vegetables, though it seems the big three are asparagus, cucumber, avocado. However, I have also seen more interesting vegetables. Kanpyo is dried gourd, shiso are the leaves that look like large mint leaves (often used for garnish as well), and ume, a Japanese plum that is sometimes pickled or salted.

A study done by the Sea Turtle Restoration Project looked at tuna samples from 6 of the most popular sushi restaurants in Los Angeles and found average mercury levels of 0.721 parts per million. The group is claiming that these mercury levels are dangerously high and describing the risk of eating it as a “new Russian roulette.”

However, other sources, like the nonprofit Center for Consumer Freedom, say that the group’s study is deeply flawed. For example, the FDA’s maximum allowable level of mercury in tuna is 1 part per million, a level that is above the average found in the study.

Not only was most of the tuna below the federal mercury standard, but the standard is based on a number that is 10 times less than the amount that is associated with health risks. Mercury does, however, remain in the body and builds up over time. While the risk of eating a piece of sashimi may not be as high as the Sea Turtle Restoration Project claims, it is still fact that consuming a lot of tuna can increase your risk for mercury related health problems, which can include memory loss and damage to the nervous system. Other concerns about the study stem from the possible ulterior motives of the Sea Turtle group. Because it is not a consumer health group but an environmentalist organization, they may be hoping to stop certain areas from being fished rather than actually looking out for the safety of sushi eaters.

We've been making our way around the sushi bar here at slashfood, and preparation for Valentine's Day simply begs for a study in bivalves - clams, scallops, and those ever-so-aphrodisiac-al oysters.

"Gai" is a general Japanese term that refer to most of the clams. I very rarely see the kind of smaller clams that we put into chowders or batter and fry on a sushi menu. However, mirugai and hokkigai are regular offerings. Oysters are called "kaki."

Tired of tuna yet? I'm not. I could eat maguro and toro every day for a month. Okay, then I might need a little break because that's a lot of raw tuna, but I'd get back right on it, especially if you throw seared ahi into the mix and...shiro maguro.

"Shiro" translates into "white" in English. It's also called bincho maguro, but let's just focus on one thing at a time here. Shiro maguro is tuna, just like those ruby red tunas you see in the case, but the flesh is much much lighter, ranging from a pale peach to almost ivory white, thus the name "shiro."

Shiro maguro is one of my sister's favorite fish for sushi and she and I both get a little crazy when we see it on the menu or in the glass case. In sushi bars, it is often served as a specialty. Sometimes it is seared (like ahi), placed in its own special little dish, garnished with own special little sauce, and garnished with its own special chives. Now here's the thing. Shiro maguro is...albacore tuna. That's albacore tuna, as in the same stuff that Starkist slings in pull top cans at the supermarket!

An order of shiro maguro is $8. Eight dollars of albacore tuna could make tuna salad sandwiches for Mrs. Stanton's entire third grade class. For a week.

Eh. But you can't dip a tuna salad sandwich in soy sauce.

Although I have been eating sushi my entire life (yes, my mother actually did not think it was a bad idea to feed raw fish to toddlers - explains a lot now, doesn't it?), I am only now learning the details about this Japanese uber-cuisine. We've gone through the Dos and Don'ts at the bar, and even a little bit of piscine vocabulary, but still, tuna really confuses me. Oh yes, I know tthe difference between plain old maguro and bourgie toro, but there's even more. I know. I can hardly stand the excitement myself.

Ahi is a word that is often heard in conjunction with "tuna." Ahi tuna is a type of tuna also known as "big-eye" or "yellow-fin," not to be confused with yellowtail, which isn't even a tuna, so kick back, jack! When you see bright red tuna in the case, you can call it maguro, which is the general Japanese term for tuna, and most likely that maguro is ahi tuna.

A lot of restaurants will serve seared ahi. Sometimes it's also called just plain seared tuna, and sometimes, tuna tataki. It sounds fancy, and with a little negi (green onion) garnish, might be worth that extra dollar in price, but the fish is the same. The sushi chef sears the outside of the fish, either on a grill, or right there at the bar with a blowtorch. The sear cooks the outside flesh to a light ivory color.

The best seared ahi sushi I've had is at Sushi Karen in Culver City, Ca. The restaurant is just a little hole in the wall, and doesn't have acclaimed Matsuhisa-trained sushi chefs (at least that I know of) like Mori or Nozawa, but the seared ahi was incredible. Instead of a simple sear, the fish was first dusted with salt and cracked pepper, then set to torch. The cracked pepper gave the fish almost the taste of a very fine, very rare steak.

Most people who are new to sushi and sashimi start with tuna. When it's raw, tuna has a meaty, clean, and not-too-fishy taste. The light, white fish like halibut and sea bass have the same mildness in flavor, but we seem to be more familiar with tuna.

But when you sidle up to the sushi bar, you can't just ask the sushi chef for "tuna." You might as well go to Morton's and ask for "cow." Just like a side of beef can be a London broil or a filet mignon, so too does a tuna have different cuts.

Maguro is a general Japanese term similar to the general English word "tuna." It can be a yellowfin, a bigeye, and if you're lucky, bluefin.

Akami refers to any of a few cuts of tuna along the backbone. Not that you'd ever need to use these terms at the sushi bar, but senaka is the highest quality of the akami, followed by sekami, then finally seshimo. We're most familiar with this as the deep, blood-red meat that has an almost beef-like quality.

Or if you're Mrs. Lachey, like chicken of the sea.

Starting with light fish is always a good idea at the sushi bar, and since things like hirame are so mild and delicate in flavor, eating it as sashimi so as not to distract your tongue with sweet, vinegared rice is even better.

But the light fish are not just the flounder, fluke, and halibut. More and more popular in sushi restaurants now are other light, white-fleshed fish. Tai is snapper, and usually has a bit of pink in the meat, making it look almost like a peppermint candy when sliced. Sometimes it's called sea bream, but for some reason, that just doesn't sound appetizing. Bream. *ew*

Suzuki might make you think of violins, but at the sushi bar, it's commonly known as sea bass. But buyer, beware. There are lots of things called "sea bass" out there. If it tastes good to you, eat up and don't ask. But if you really care, you can only be sure that suzuki is true sea bass if it's from Japan.

Both of these fish are tender, and are often served with additional sauces since they are so mild. Ponzu is popular (the light citrus-y soy sauce) as are citrus flavored salts.

With all the "Do this" and "Don't even think about doing that!" are we actually going to get to eat something at the sushi bar? Yes, yes we are. But like all the dos and don'ts for how to eat, there are even a few about what to eat. They're not hard and fast rules, just some suggested guidelines. Like Maria with the Von Trapp Family, let's start with the very beginning...

It's a good idea to eat sushi from the lightest, mildest fish and work your way up to the stronger, oilier fish. That way, you avoid the risk of strong fishy flavors loitering about your palate and tainting subsequent flavors. Gari can only do so much to cleanse the palate.

The Japanese term for generic classes of white fish is shiromi, which means "seasonal white fish." You could ask the sushi chef for shiromi and he would give you whatever white fish is in season and freshest that day. Most likely, you will see the word hirame on the menu, which basically refers to any type of flat white fish like fluke or even flounder. However, technically, flounder is karei. Many restaurants serve halibut as hirame, but again, technically, halibut is dohyo, which I've never seen on a menu in my L.A. sushi adventures.

Confusing? In the end, they're all shiromi. And since they're all light and mild, do shiromi as sashimi (fish sans rice) to start.

We've already figured out what they're shouting when you walk into a sushi bar – "Irasshaimase!" which is basically a warm, hearty welcome greeting. You head to the sushi bar, slide into a seat, hopefully right smack in front of a chef. Now what? Will you order sushi combination no.1 or no.2, will you order a la carte, or will you order...omakase?

"Omakase" loosely translates in English to "trust." In the context of a sushi bar, it is the equivalent of the chef's tasting menu, meaning you will be putting the trust of your tastebuds in the hands of the chef.

I was always shy and nervous about omakase, partly because I'm a control freak, and partly because I thought omakase meant the chef would be giving me weird things like monkfish liver (which is actually not that weird) or octopus brains (which would be weird – do octopi have brains?). However, omakase really does lead to the best sushi experience you could have in the restaurant that night, because the chef is picking out the freshest, tastiest thing for you to try.

Not all of us are gazillionaires able to afford the $250 per person omakase-only meal at Urasawa in Beverly Hills (and that's for the food only; add some sake, tax and tip, and the date you're trying to impress will cost you four figures!). But there are options. They're not cheap, mind you, for this is raw fish after all, but it definitely won't require a winning lottery ticket. At Echigo in West Los Angeles you can do an omakase lunch for $25 to $35. Sushi Sasabune for dinner costs from $40 to $50. Obeying the infamous Sushi Nazi" at Nozawa in Studio City starts around $60.

But these aren't the only choices. Almost every sushi chef now will put together an omakase menu for you. All you have to do is ask. And trust.