I hold my finger and ask for two ikura, point at Tyson, at hands that don’t stop rapping the table. The chef nods. He stops what he’s doing, makes two thumb-size patties of rice, wraps them in seaweed and drops in the roe. He sets them in front of us. Tyson doesn’t know what to do; I don’t either so I eat the whole thing. It tastes like my dad’s fingers.
Kevin Maloney, from "Cult of Loretta"













