Odoriyaki is Japanese for nightmare

Note: My most sensitive friends shouldn't read this. Go on, get out of here.

I stayed at a luxurious hotel in Hakone this weekend with a spacious tatami room, gorgeous views of Mt. Fuji from its own outdoor hotspring, and delicious gourmet dinner and breakfast. The food gave me nightmares.
I often say things are bound to give me strange dreams, but I rarely mean it*.  I actually woke up at three in the morning haunted by abalone. I couldn't get back to sleep. See, at dinner, right between the soup and the sashimi, they brought out some abalones to cook at the table. Fine. Except, they are big, meaty critters, and they were still moving. I can't explain how hideous it was. I looked away when one looked like it was trying to launch itself out of its shell. I peeked again a few minutes later and... shudder.
If you had asked me in the abstract, Do you believe abalones experience suffering? I would have said Nah, pass the lemon. But the way these things writhed and kept writhing over the fire was unbearable. 

The waiter grinned that it's called odoriyaki "because it is like they're dancing." Remind me not to go dancing with that guy.


*Except about the Himalayan curry. That is true.