The California Roll is less a recipe than an idea: bring sushi closer without watering it down. Turn the rice outward, invite the avocado in, make the first step easy. The idea was born in 1960s Los Angeles and became sushi’s first sentence translated into the languages of the world.

Every language adds its own word to the sentence. Ours is shrimp. In Japanese it is ebi 海老, and the kanji hides a gentle joke: the old man of the sea. Bent back, long whiskers; in Japanese culture the shrimp’s silhouette stands for long life, and no New Year table is without it.

For the Mediterranean, shrimp is not a symbol but daily life. Children of these shores do not learn the taste of shrimp later; they grow up with it. The sweet, gently resistant flesh of poached shrimp strikes an old friendship with the cream of avocado; cucumber carries the coolness, and the rice outside holds the whole together.

California’s idea, Japan’s form, the Mediterranean’s word. The sentence is complete.