Classicists as Sushi
California roll: Generalists. Invented in the U.S. and had their heyday in the 70s. Rather common and at this point, kind of old. Have something that pleases everyone. Don’t like imitation crab? It’s fine, you probably can’t taste it. Plus, avocado is trendy!
Chopsticks: Small finds specialists. The sushi isn’t as important as the ritual.
Cucumber-avocado roll: The outreach team. Very approachable, appeal to a broad audience. The gateway drug of sushi. Look, we don’t even have raw fish! You can get a classics degree without even having to eat the raw fish. Just take a civ class.
Nigiri: Textual critics. The base unit of sushi. Very certain of its own importance. “Where would sushi be,” the nigiri ask, “without US?” Meticulously prepared: the rice must be at body temperature; the piece, perfectly bite-sized; the soy sauce lovingly brushed atop the fish; a dab of wasabi barely perceptible. Takes hours to make and years to perfect.
Otoro (fatty tuna): Ceramicists. Shocked—offended, actually—that you don’t know the difference between otoro, chutoro, and akami. Otoro is the most desirable cut of tuna. It’s the rarest. Can’t you tell from the striation pattern in the fat? And the angle of the knife cut that *clearly* shows this was sliced from the underbelly of a wild-caught Atlantic bluefin tuna from the North Sea?
Philadelphia roll: Theorists. Look, there’s a time and a place for cream cheese and lox, and it’s on a goddamn bagel in the wonderful breakfast spread over at the comparative literature department.
Poké bowl: Digital humanities. Are you sushi? Are you Hawaiian food? Do you belong in this restaurant, or should you have a separate restaurant for yourselves? One thing’s for sure, you’re trendy af, and you’re raking in the big bucks because you look good on Instagram.
Rainbow roll: Vergil scholars. Basically a California roll but covered in a variety of fish, usually salmon and tuna, sometimes yellowtail. You teach the lit survey courses, you know your way around Republican Latin, you appreciate Cicero’s prose rhythm. You’re not super original, but you’re not a GENERALIST. You have interests: Vergilian epic, particularly the Aeneid. There’s one of you on every party platter.
Sashimi: Pure philologists. None of that *rice* getting in the way. Just the text, please.
Seaweed salad: Feminist scholars. Some traditionalists complain that you don’t belong in a sushi roundup, but come on—you’re damn delicious. Perhaps originally sushi-adjacent, but now you’re an absolutely necessary component in any Japanese feast. Plus, you kind of look like Medusa’s hair.
Shima-aji (striped jack mackerel): Numismatists. The only kind that needs explanatory parentheses next to its name.
Spicy tuna roll: Greek lyricists. You study Pindar. You have strong feelings about Pindar. You like to take tuna, an otherwise normal and likable fish, chop it up, and add spicy mayo to it. Spicy mayo! One of the most polarizing condiments! Many people don’t like spice! Many people don’t like mayo! You can no longer even tell that this is tuna. Way to go, you somehow made tuna difficult.
Tamago: Art historians. They’re absolutely certain that this particular tamago nigiri is from Sukiyabashi Jiro. Yes, it’s thousands of miles away from its original context and has no attribution. Sure, maybe Jiro only makes half the sushi there anyway these days as he slowly cedes control of his restaurant to his son Yoshikazu. But this one is 100% Jiro. They can’t explain why. They just know.
Tempura roll: Reception studies. You’re easy to explain to people who don’t know much about sushi, so you’re pretty popular. Anything can be tempura-ed! People love fried food! You complement every ingredient. Are you Legitimate and Authentic Sushi that would be served at an Established Omakase House? Eh, who knows, but who cares? You get enrollments (pun intended).
Tori Lee would like to thank Antonio LoPiano for the archaeologist stereotypes and directs any complaints about anything also to him.