I realize the combination of words sounds frightening and out of this world. Extraterrestrial. Heck I barely go out for a tortilla española in Lasarte. But if you mention sushi in the Martín Berasatégui kitchen, ears perk, heads turn and stomachs grumble. Conversation follows and eventually, if you’re a sushi aficionado like someone I know very well, who has gone without sushi for two months because good sushi is difficult to come by in País Vasco and anything below the high bar you’ve set is inedible waste, you find yourself setting aside all other responsibilities [that should take priority over sushi-making] and instead, cutting salmon, rolling maki and torching ika (squid) for a group of hungry Spanish sushivores.