Sentimental at Sushi Studio – Long Beach

We like to believe that we meet our closest friends during the best parts of our lives. But I think we meet our closest friends during the worst, most inconvenient times in our lives. I believe that because I met Shamini when we were in med school.

The worst part of med school is the exams. No matter how prepared I am, the very pillars that hold up the earth come crashing down around my ears the day before exams, or so you would think by the way I carry on. I think the first thing I noticed about Shamini is that for all my talent in turning every multiple choice question into a life-and-death situation, every essay into hours of agony, and every erasable bubble into the point of no return…for every one of those things I can do, Shamini can do better.

But that’s not why we’re friends. Though we’re equally dramatic, our friendship has no drama. Whether it’s putting aloe on each other’s backs after a terrible decision of omission (i.e. too cool for sunscreen) in Puerto Rico, choosing which dishes to split on a random dinner out, or planning a bachelorette on a budget less than a week in advance, there’s nothing we can’t do together.

There’s never a time Shamini and I aren’t happy, and apparently there’s never a non-happy time at Sushi Studio either. Like our friendship, Sushi Studio may look like an ordinary diner, but you have to be in it to understand just how special it is. Especially when it comes to price. Like most place, happy hour is too short for those who work like dogs…ahem…residents. But infinity hour picks up where happy hour left off and lasts the rest of the night.

Soon we were digging into two types of Seaweed Salad and a decent, not-even-the-tiniest-bit-rubbery Calamari Salad at prices so cheap even our student loans didn’t flinch.

The Salmon Poke had a subtly sassy sauce that poked some fun into our mouths…almost as much fun as I poke at Shamini for showing up an hour late…to my apartment… across the street from hers…every time.

But it was my work that kept piling up that night so I pushed our dinner back more times than there were slices in an order of fresh, skillfully-cut Salmon Sashimi.

And when I waltzed in 2 hours later than we had planned, Shamini didn’t say a thing. Because unlike me, she can be sweeter than the eel that tops that Las Vegas Roll. And Shamini keeps my secrets way better than Vegas.

I don’t exactly choose my friends aesthetically, but anyone who knows her would agree. Everyone knows that Shamini is beautiful…except Shamini. Despite what she may think, she looks even better in mango than the Sexy Girl Roll and despite the perfect mix with mayo and shrimp, she’s even better put-together…just not the night before an exam. But don’t bother arguing, she could make a saint look conceited.

Shamini and I didn’t meet during the best part of my life or the best part of hers, but maybe that’s why I need her. She adds her wisdom with an occasional shot of optimism, and I never doubt for a moment that she’ll try to catch me every time I fall. Because of her, I have more happy memories than this Volcano Roll has ingredients, and like the spicy mayo, Shamini makes everything better just because she’s there.

The best part about making friends during the worst part of life is that you can share the best parts too. Shamini and I shared our purgatory, and we split all that med school and residency have to dish out. And when all is over, we can finally share the sweet stuff too, the Fried Ice Cream after our sushi storm.