A Hole in the Wall

These days are filled with lasts. On Tuesday, I turned in my last Princeton paper. This coming Tuesday, I’ll be taking the final exam for Queer Theory & Politics, which will mark the end of my undergraduate career. What I find peculiar about all these lasts is that they evince a strange sense of circularity that makes them feel like firsts. Or as the philosophers Seneca/Semisonic would put it: every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.

When I first arrived at Princeton, I had very few friends and spent most of my time alone. During my freshman year, I spent a lot of time at Ye Olde English Fish and Chips, a Taiwanese restaurant on Nassau Street. Yes, that’s right: the best Asian food in Princeton came from a hole-in-the-wall establishment that claimed to be an English pub, complete with an ugly green awning and peeling paint. I was walking past the restaurant one dreary fall day when I smelled the wonderful aroma of homemade Taiwanese food wafting its way out of 236 Nassau. Overwhelmed with curiosity, I knew I had to go in.

Sushi Deluxe, Nine pieces nigiri sushi served with one california roll

It turns out that Mark Wu, the owner, had recently inherited the place from a Chinese owner who served fish and chips alongside Asian cuisine. That fateful day, we had a five-hour conversation about Mark’s move to Princeton. He’d immigrated to the United States from Taiwan in the 1980s in search of a “new life,” establishing himself in Manhattan’s Greenwich Village through work in his sister’s restaurant. After 20 successful years in the sushi business, Mark and his wife decided to focus on raising their children, giving up their fast-paced life in the city and enrolling their sons Tom and James at Princeton High School.

His goal at the time was to remodel the dirty hole into a sushi bar within six months. It seemed like a far-fetched pipe dream at the time. But I was struck by how Mark talked about food as if it were a fine art. He spoke about sushi as if it were some life-altering, sublime substance. It was fascinating to me as someone who, at the time, had tried raw fish maybe once or twice and never really appreciated it. His passion for food was infectious, and he would often invite me to sample possible menu items for his new restaurant. What’s more, Mark and his family were kind enough to treat me like their own child. I would drop by just to talk, and we soon became close friends.

Tomo Sushi, Located at 236 Nassau Street in Princeton

A few months later, Tomo Sushi opened. Though Mark insists on maintaining the lowest prices of any Japanese restaurant in Princeton, his food is exquisite, custom-made to the tastes of every patron that walks through his door. Sushi soon became my favorite food, particularly the Fuji Roll: a blissful marriage of salmon and apple. But Mark had no idea how to market his product to students. And so began my first design project at Princeton. I photographed all his food and set up what in retrospect was terribly-designed but functional website. We planned a two-hour free sushi tasting party for all University students, and I spammed all the email lists I was on about it.

The news spread like wildfire. More than 500 students filtered through the tiny storefront during those two hours, and within a week, Tomo’s business more than doubled. I ended up getting in trouble with the Dean’s office because there wasn’t a payment system in place between the University and Tomo, and student organizations were placing order after order that could not be processed. I don’t think my designs did anything except to give Tomo some exposure, but that was enough to let the food work its own magic. I think it’s safe to say that it’s now a staple in the Princeton dining circuit.

Chili Chicken, Broiled sliced chicken with vegetables and special sauce

This last week, I overhauled the design for their website. And I realized, while making it, how much I’ve relied on Mark’s food and counsel during my years at Princeton. Tomo is the place we go both to celebrate joyful occasions and for reassurance during times of depression. Sometimes we go there for no reason at all. The food is always amazing, even if we have to consume it in a hurry, and Mark’s presence is always a source of encouragement and inspiration.

I don’t know what I’m going to do without Tomo Sushi. During my thesis defense on Wednesday (see explanatory poster here), my advisor remarked at how much she thinks I’ve grown intellectually and emotionally at Princeton. While I think I’ve learned a lot here, part of me will forever be that 18-year old kid trying to make it in a world that I don’t think completely understands me.

And I worry about the journey ahead because the refuge I have found in my Nassau Street hole in the wall will no longer be available to me. I don’t know how long it’ll be until I get to experience another conversation with Mark, or W and I share the leftover sauce from his Chili Chicken, or I find some other place that feels as much like home as Tomo does to me.

Our first-ever SDA staff picture

Tonight, we had our end-of-year party for the Student Design Agency. To my surprise, it ended up being more of a send-off for me. My friends made me this beautiful card filled with myriad messages telling me that I have inspired them to be passionate about design and that they have learned a lot from me. This was quite unexpected — I know there have been times that I have frustrated each of them with my bluntness and compulsiveness.

What I’ve learned over the last several years, I think, is that happiness is contingent upon finding that thing that you love so much that others are moved to love it too. Though it makes me uneasy writing this, I feel proud that I’ve been able to positively contribute to the lives of the people around me, just as Mark has contributed to mine.

Experiencing these lasts means that new firsts are on the horizon. And while I want to approach them with an open heart and mind, I am glad that I am not the same person I was the first time I walked into Mark’s restaurant. Like it, I have matured and changed. And while I think that I’m likely to grow more in the years ahead, these last few have helped me define the kind of person I want to be. This insight gives me confidence that Tomo and the lessons I’ve learned from Mark will always keep me honest to my values and convictions.