And Don't Even Think About the Wasabi

Time was, I’d have regretted missing this Seattle party:

Saturday night at Bonzai in Pioneer Square, a nearly naked woman is laid out on a table. A chef slices sushi behind her, to be arrayed on her torso, bare except for a sheath of plastic wrap and some decorative flower petals.

Chopsticks at the ready, patrons line up.


Today, my only question is: Where’d they put the pickled ginger?

UPDATE: Kate, I don’t know art, but I know what I like.


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