Perhaps no decent Japanese food is available anywhere in Latin America. Certainly I've had no success in finding any.

But being in a capital city, I figured my odds of finding good Sushi in Buenos Aires would be good. Itamae Sushi is within walking distance of our Recoleta apartment: a good place to start.

Sleek modern front, interesting logo, delivery bike parked on the sidewalk: the place looks promising.

Interior decor is pleasing. Black lacquer tables. Bamboo birdcages for table lamps. Sophisticated brass railings. Jean patiently sits, Mona Lisa-like, while I disturb patrons lining up a shot.

I think she endures me, more than loves me.

The place gets passing marks for decor and atmosphere. The first sign of potential trouble, though, is an absence of epicanthic folds. Not even the sushi chef has them. He looks Italian, like he should be tossing pizza. Never good in Asian restaurants.

Gaijin lack the conditioning, the exhaustive training of a proper Japanese sushi chef; one who likely was made to sharpen knives for two years before he was allowed to touch a fish. (Desperate for sushi in Missoula, I once patronized a sushi bar where the chef was a blonde halfback for the University of Montana named Kevin. The fish looked like it had been prepared with a hammer, but it was imported Japanese seafood and tasted OK if you ate it with your eyes closed.)

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The second sign that we would not be swept into the spirit of Nippon was the presence of salt on the table. In my opinion, salt does not belong on a Japanese dinner table. Never saw it in Japan. You season Japanese food with shoyu, not salt.

While we're on the subject, let's take a brief detour into the subject of Argentinean salt. First, it's ground much finer than we're accustomed to in the US and Mexico. So when you invert the shaker over your plate, your food is immediately oversalted. The stuff just pours out. A whole new shaker handling skill is called for. Hint: It's all in the wrist.

Second, for some reason, chefs don't use salt in cooking. So you have to add salt at the table. You don't even have to check to see if your dish is properly seasoned. It isn't. Just salt it and move on.

Lastly, in damp weather we put rice grains in our salt shakers. In Argentina, they use coffee beans.

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Now, about the food.

Any resemblance between what we were served and something a Japanese person would find palatable was purely coincidental.

My sushi looks nice, but it's all local fish, not sushi grade. Mushy octopus, stringy tuna, Costco shrimp, passable salmon. No other types of seafood available. The rice was properly seasoned, but not properly sticky.

Jean's meal was the real disaster. Her roll contained cream cheese: exquisite paired with lox on a bagel, nasty in maki. Worse yet was her order of tempura: a sodden mass of vegetables coated with gluey flour paste.

I am certain there's good Japanese food to be had in the capital of Argentina. Itamae Sushi, though, just continues my run of strikeouts in Latin America.