To Repel Attraction is to Attract Repulsion

In the book of Ecclesiastes in the Bible, chapter 3, verse 1, it says that "there is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens." Though there may indeed be a time for all possible things, there may not need to be. Some ideas are simply meant to remain in the mind.

My friend Micah called me up one day and said she wanted to try an experimental restaurant but that she did not want to experience the occasion alone, so of course, I agreed to accompany her. After all, with it involving food, how could I resist?

Cowfish in Birmingham, Al

Logo from restaurant website 

Tucked away in the Summit shopping center of Birmingham stands a restaurant that has taken a leap of faith. If I were a sorority girl and could use one phrase to describe my memory of this place, it would be "I can't even." This phrase has never fit more appropriately.

Outside the restaurant is a sculpture of a cow-fish (the head of a cow, the body of a fish), as if one actually existed. Apparently, the place is a hot spot, for Micah and I were added to the wait list with the log backed up for an hour.

Once we were finally seated within the restaurant, I took a look around. Cow and fish. Burgers and sushi. American and Japanese. Red and yellow. Forks and chopsticks. But wait, there is more. Legos. Pac-man. Ukiyo-e paintings of fat Japanese men eating burgers. Art of colonials eating sushi. Aquariums. Talking bathrooms. And it goes on and on and on. Before even taking a seat, I was stressed, but I was not about to give up.

For the appetizer, we ordered blackened tuna nachos, which as bizarre as they were, were absolutely delicious. Somehow, the blend of crab rangoon with the blackened tuna on top of the crispy wonton chips with its dab of salsa and guacamole was insanely mouthwatering. But even in this moment, I could not categorize my feelings. Was I pleased? Was I appalled? Well, I continued.

For the main course, Micah ordered the cowfish bento box which was supposedly the perfect choice in matching the theme of the place. It came with three different sushi rolls (California, spicy tuna, and Philly roll), edamame, sweet potato fries, Thai cucumbers, and an American mini-burger. Led by the hypnotic vibe of the restaurant, I ordered the 4-S (Sear-iously Sensational Sushi Sandwich) which served Koji tuna and yellowtail in sandwich form, with the "bun" made of kani and sushi rice, along with a side of Thai cucumbers. The sambal sesame soy dressing that was then drizzled over the sandwich was spicy at one end of the spectrum while the side of cucumbers was at the opposite end by being overbearingly sweet. Individually, each item was tasty, but even as I ripped apart my sandwich breading to see how all the ingredients were crafted into a bun... Was I pleased? Was I appalled? No. Yes. I was confused. So very confused. And I never ever get confused about food or the atmosphere surrounding the food. Never. 

At that point, I turned to Micah and with a lowered voice expressed my bewilderment. "Micah, my dear," I said, "Thank you so much for bringing me here. I am really glad you love the place, and I am glad I have had the experience. But never bring me back here again." Micah, for some odd reason, seemed thrilled that she had succeeded in confusing me with food, as if that was some kind of goal on her bucket list.

And it is done. I am never going back. I can appreciate the creativity. I can even admit the fine quality of food. I have never been more intrigued, and I have never been more horrified. Kudos, Cowfish. I can't even.