I was especially looking forward to making this Tiny House, but, like several recently, it disappointed me through the process. Don’t get me wrong: I think it’s lovely!
But, I was savoring the idea of making each piece of sushi for each little plate, and it turned out that the directions were very hard to follow unless I made all the sushi at once, for the whole restaurant, then created the plates.
Somehow, a pile of tiny sushi seems more like a pile of mere felt and fluff; it doesn’t materialize into what you expect until you trim each piece to match the others on the plate, line them up exactly, and add wasabi, ginger, roe, etc. Then the magic happens (if I’m lucky), and the fluff becomes something recognizable.
And I couldn’t tell from these directions how all the fluff would become meals of loveliness until I had already made the foundation of the building as well as the tables and the chairs (because I need to place the chairs in order to place them and the tables all in a row). By then I was getting frustrated with how some rolls seemed like they had too much rice, and other sushi was too big for the plate and didn’t leave room for side items, etc.
Again, though, I’m pleased with how it looks over all, with so many adorable details, and I hope whoever I find to take it will appreciate it.
Revolving Plates of Yummy
What attracted me especially to this kit is the sushi conveyor belt. (Wait, is that called a “rotary” in English, or a “turnstile”? I don’t know the correct term.) If you’ve never experienced this type of dining, it’s delightful: the sushi plates are on a moving belt that goes round and round in front of the diners, and you pick what you want off the belt, one plate at a time. My first experience sitting at a table like this was in Atlanta, not exactly the sushi capital of the world but where I restarted eating meat for the first time as an adult (weird story there) and started going on sushi benders.
What better way to spend way too much money on delicious morsels than to sit at table where little gems appear before you, and you’re too eager to figure out the prices associated with each colored plate, so you just eat it all? Oh, and Tracy just reminded me of sushi restaurants where it’s not a conveyor belt, but a small river of water floating in an oval that conveys little boats carrying plates of sushi around the table. What perfection in mindful eating. Seriously.
At all the sushi conveyor belt restaurants I’ve been to (all = a few), the chef created sushi while standing in the middle of a large turnstile. I’m guessing the chef here is at some hidden sushi bar in the back with a hired runner to refill the table as he creates. Not as much fun in real life as interacting with your chef, but a better presentation for a Tiny House, I’m guessing
If you’d like to order from a menu and be served at your private table, upstairs you go.
Choose from several bottles of sake on display, and sit comfortably on the floor with seat backs (is that a thing? I mean, I know sitting on the floor is a thing, but seat backs?).
Be sure to leave your geta behind as you sit. (Mine do have little wooden platforms that I didn’t get a good shot of.)
I love the tatami doors upstairs and downstairs (thin paper works great here), as well as the rolled-up fiber shades I made from the same bumpy paper I usually make tree bark from.
The lanterns turned out well, highlighting the side entrance that has a display of specials, plus a bench where take-out orders have been placed.
That Striking Cherry Tree
So, here’s the bummer part of how this looks, I think. The cherry tree is truly lovely (it arrived mostly made; I just detached the branches and blooms from one big mass and shaped them).
At first I had them pointing the way cherry trees look naturally, but then when I assembled the dust cover (the plastic sides that slip over the whole shebang), I realized I’d left no room at the edges. That lovely tree had to be squished.
Well, I’m pleased with it either way, really. This one was less fun to assemble but looks the best of anything I’ve made, I believe.
Here’s my traditional selfie to show size but also my smile of accomplishment.