From the Issue Editors
ISSUE EDITORS STATEMENT HERE
Table of Contents
Prose |
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Addison Adsit-Metts The Move
Chopped Salad iceberg, cherry tomatoes, smoked bacon, toasted pecans, bleu cheese 14
Mussels shallots, lemon, white wine, butter, parsley 16
Lobster Bisque maine lobster, celery, white wine, cream 13
Duck Liver Mousse duck liver, milk, garlic, shallots, butter, crostini 14
Little Gems walnuts, salt, shallots, champagne vinegar, pecorino romano cheese 12
Poetry |
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Filet Mignon 8oz bordelaise, chives, butter 18
T Bone 18oz fresh herb sherry butter, chives 60
Rib Eye 20oz argentinian raised prime black angus, salt, pepper, garlic, butter 65
Porterhouse 26oz fire roasted, chive, butter, garlic 90
Bone-in New York 16oz shallot butter, cipollini onions, salt, pepper 75
Prime Rib 15oz or 20oz slow roasted, au jus, horseradish 55
Hokkaido A5 Wagyu chateau uenae, farmed in below freezing temperatures 125
Masthead |
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Issue Editors chocolate soufflè, tahini cookie 10
Web Support watsonville strawberries, graham cracker crust 11
Associate Editors black sesame, salted caramel, tcho chocolate 7
Warm Apple Crumb Pie black sesame, salted caramel, tcho chocolate 7
The Move by Addison Adsit-Metts
The heat of a summer day passes by, while moving day commences.
“My first girlfriend sat right there” pointing at a stump in the back yard. “She looked so beautiful, and I had no idea what move to make, remember?” Anthony says to an already sweaty and tired looking Alex.
“Yea man, yea” Alex struggles to lift yet another heavy box out of the increasingly empty garage. “Dude come on, you said you would help me move, we’re paying you, come on.”
Anthony moves closer to wrap an arm around Alex. “Remember the trampoline? Oh the many memories-- the times we would sleep out on it, and stay up all night, fearing the wrath of the early morning sprinklers.”
They both shuffle across the lawn. “Hey," says Anthony, "what else do you need us to do? What should we move now?”
Alex’s father walks out with a flushed face from the bedroom looking equally tired and wipes his sweaty forehead. "Go ask your mother," he says, and then "ya boys want pizza?"
Both look at each other elated with the idea of taking a break from heavy lifting and nod. They walk down the steps into the other bedroom, and see Roman already hovered over the newly-opened pizza box.
“Hey, uhh how’s the garage coming?” Roman asks.
"Yeah, it’s alright," Alex sits on one of the last stools not packed.
"Hey Ro," says Anthony, "what say we carve our names somewhere into the garage, or use a sharpie or something, on the beams or something, so all those who come again, and live her after you will know who use to chill here?" Sitting back in his seat, Roman looks at the other guys.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea” says Anthony.
Alex whips in with “I’m hyped! Yea let’s do it! Leave a trace of our roots! Man remember how many times we got way too high in that garage?”
Alex's dad walks by and says “keep it chill boys.”
“Yeah, yea, ha” They all slowly get up and start washing their hands.
“Alex man, you okay” asks Anthony.
Alex stares out the window in a daze and thinks back on all those memories.
“Those jazz records in my room," he says. "Those late nights -- and now it's all empty."
Alex slowly walks around the empty house followed by his two friends.
“This kitchen, this floor, all the many secret beers, margaritas, all right here. Oh that fridge couldn’t hide us in the least. This was a good house.
"Yeah," says Ro. "I remember the first time I came over here in ninth grade. I felt so awkward, but that was funny,."
“Yeah, good times” says Anthony, now with a sadder look on his face. “Yeah I guess it’s hard for me to really accept that it’s over -- this room, my bed, listening to all those old records, the walls, and mirrors on the walls made us feel so free. We could dress up and be who we wanted to be. The seasons would change, and I would look out the window on the setting sun doing my homework, oh god that old computer, and the bench-press we used to do completions on.
Panic flares in Anthony's eyes. He dashes to the door and creates a body blockade. “Hey, uhh man, fuck it, don’t leave.”
Ro shuffles closer to the door, “Dude, come on, what are you even talking about, Anthony? You’re acting weird.”
Anthony sits on the floor in defeat.
Alex chimes in - “yea… maybe we could just stay here, and not leave, I don’t know if I can actually move on"
Now coming together to create a bigger blockade at the door, Anthony and Alex block Ro from leaving.
"Come on dude, this is it, we can just refuse to leave.!
“You guys are nuts! The cops will get involved, they’ll wreck us, this is wrong.” Shoving through them, Ro leaves the room, and then slowly turns around before going out to the back to continue packing up the things in the garage. Alex sits back down, head in hands,
"Maybe this is crazy," he says. "I mean, I feel like one day I’ll be able to move on and I won’t need some kind of nostalgia fix from the house.” Anthony moves over to the record player still plugged in and puts on Buddy Holly. "Hey man," says Anthony, "dance bruh! It’s party time! We’ve just made a great decision! We'll stay in the house, and never leave! Who will stop us?”
The hot day turns into a warm night as Alex and Anthony barricade themselves in the room.
“Hey man, open up, your parents are here, and bro your parents are pretty pissed,” Ro shouts over the music.
“We ain't coming out bro! This is the spot!"
Both boys are drunk with pride at that apparent accomplishment of not leaving the house.
“Alex, we’d like to let you know, we are leaving. If the police come to make you vacate the premises,d hopefully you won’t get in trouble,” says his dad listening to the few footsteps drowning into nothingness.
“Maybe we should just leave," says Alex. "I don’t know if this is a good idea, --I mean, we’re like holding up a house, this is no longer ours,….. mine.” Says Alex getting up and turning the music down. “It’ll be alright dude, well just camp out here, and see what happens, I mean the new owners won’t be in here for a while right?” Anthony says. “I don’t know, I wasn’t paying attention, but we’re like doing something bad though, we’ve prevented a house from being moved out, there’s still a lot of stuff in here, we should probably move it out, or something” Alex says. “Nah dude, we’re good, I’m sure your parents and whatnot with be back tomorrow morning.
The writing on the wall, the floor that creaks, all these memories come rushing back to them both, as the sun sets, and things new, and old, fake, and real come out, shadows dancing on the walls, old birthdays remembered. Alex stands up, and finally opens the door, and leaves the room, floating slowly down through the hall, and other rooms. Suddenly he’s overwhelmed with overplayed memories going back to being a little kid, all the way up through his teen years. Each scene right in front of his eyes. Like a stream of consciousness in a dream, each step releases a new feeling, and emotion. In the dining room, always sitting there watching the tv, knowing the couch would call once he’d eaten. The healthy soda, and home cooked meals, all laid out. “There it was, there I am,” Alex said to himself, “here I was, here I am” as he touches the walls and there’s sparky running after the ball, looking happier than ever, even though he had been a dead dog for years. Anthony runs out of the room, and grabs Alex’s shoulders, “Dude! I see cop lights flashing right outside.” Finally snapping out of his trance-like state. “Shit, for us.?” Alex says running back to join Anthony in his room looking out the window. “Yes, I think they’re here for . . .” Before he can finish his sentence a mumbled megaphone can be heard. “This house is no longer yours, step out now with your hands raised, or we’ll be forced to come in.” Reacting quickly with a wild look in his eye Anthony whips out his big knife, and start walking out, and towards the front door, “I’m not going down, without a fight” he says. “You’re crazy, they’ll kill you,” trying to hold Anthony’s arm and take the knife away. They both walk to the front room, as Anthony slowly opens the door as the siren sounds get louder with each creak of the opening door. Alex again see all the colorful images right in front of his eyes, memories of old again retake him. All the family movie nights, him falling asleep, and missing most of the movie, the lazy Sundays, and all that entailed. All the sites, and sounds in front of him, Anthony playing with his knife, the cops yelling outside, the sirens, and cold air blowing in, all fade away from Alex. “There I was, there I am, here I was, here I am.” He slowly repeats to himself reaching out, and trying to touch the memories with his hand, but only grabbing air. “Fuck it man, I’m gunna fight for this house,” Antony says, grasping his knife. As the door is finally opened fully, Alex snaps out of his trance, and tackles Antony. “Hey man, what the fuck?” struggling to keep his knife grabbed in his hand. “Dude this is crazy, we can’t put ourselves in danger, and maybe get arrested for a house…. We…. have to move on man. I mean this is my house, but we’ve got to learn to give-up, and move on.” Alex says standing up, and giving Anthony a hand. “Yes, I guess we… I got carried away. It’s just this house meant a lot to me, the memories, and such. Putting his knife back in his pocket. “So should we go out?” he says slowly entering the doorway. “Yea, I think it’ll be alright, it’s the people in the house that make it, and when they leave, it’s only a house, nothing more, nothing less.” The two boys slowly leave the house where they’re met by angry police. “Get on the ground! What the hell are you guys doing in there!?” It’s the house I live… used to live in.” Alex says from the ground. “Is anyone else in there.” No, just us, and we’ll leave” Anthony says shaking. “Alright get up, we’re gunna have to take you boys in, and get this all cleared up.” The boys obliged as they are directed into the police car. “Well, I’ll have to come see your new house,” shuffling to get his handcuffed hands into a more comfortable position.” Ha yeah, Alex says, its actually pretty nice, I’m sure you’ll like it.” The car slowly drives down the street, that oh so familiar path, lined with trees, darkened front yards, and a few evening strollers. “Remember the old porch swing your neighbor had, ha, we almost broke our asses everytime. Remember all the high nights walking up, and down this street, and we felt like we were riding on spaceships on our bike rides” smiling. “Remember walking all the way to the store, and then you called Jenny, and asked if you had to cook sliced pepperoni? Ha, that was the best, and the ice-cream shop, damn that was good.” The trees zoom by faster and faster, as the old familiar becomes the urban unknown. “Remember that whole little kid stealing our watertoys at the pool, damn his dad was so mad, damn I’m gunna miss all our walks. The hot long summer nights, the cool winter days, the rain that made us want to explore, that cold wind that made us want to run. Those were the good days,” the car pulled into the police station, and the offices get out and discuss with each other. “Hey man,” Anthony said, remember when we got lost in that wooden area, it was like a little meadow in the middle of an industrial park, maybe one day I’ll go back, check it out again, see what I can see.” The cops pull the two boys, and walk them into the police station. “Remember when we all stayed up late in the garage, and pretended there were people outside, scaring each other, and we kept bugging you with the stick?” “Yea, I remember.”
“My first girlfriend sat right there” pointing at a stump in the back yard. “She looked so beautiful, and I had no idea what move to make, remember?” Anthony says to an already sweaty and tired looking Alex.
“Yea man, yea” Alex struggles to lift yet another heavy box out of the increasingly empty garage. “Dude come on, you said you would help me move, we’re paying you, come on.”
Anthony moves closer to wrap an arm around Alex. “Remember the trampoline? Oh the many memories-- the times we would sleep out on it, and stay up all night, fearing the wrath of the early morning sprinklers.”
They both shuffle across the lawn. “Hey," says Anthony, "what else do you need us to do? What should we move now?”
Alex’s father walks out with a flushed face from the bedroom looking equally tired and wipes his sweaty forehead. "Go ask your mother," he says, and then "ya boys want pizza?"
Both look at each other elated with the idea of taking a break from heavy lifting and nod. They walk down the steps into the other bedroom, and see Roman already hovered over the newly-opened pizza box.
“Hey, uhh how’s the garage coming?” Roman asks.
"Yeah, it’s alright," Alex sits on one of the last stools not packed.
"Hey Ro," says Anthony, "what say we carve our names somewhere into the garage, or use a sharpie or something, on the beams or something, so all those who come again, and live her after you will know who use to chill here?" Sitting back in his seat, Roman looks at the other guys.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea” says Anthony.
Alex whips in with “I’m hyped! Yea let’s do it! Leave a trace of our roots! Man remember how many times we got way too high in that garage?”
Alex's dad walks by and says “keep it chill boys.”
“Yeah, yea, ha” They all slowly get up and start washing their hands.
“Alex man, you okay” asks Anthony.
Alex stares out the window in a daze and thinks back on all those memories.
“Those jazz records in my room," he says. "Those late nights -- and now it's all empty."
Alex slowly walks around the empty house followed by his two friends.
“This kitchen, this floor, all the many secret beers, margaritas, all right here. Oh that fridge couldn’t hide us in the least. This was a good house.
"Yeah," says Ro. "I remember the first time I came over here in ninth grade. I felt so awkward, but that was funny,."
“Yeah, good times” says Anthony, now with a sadder look on his face. “Yeah I guess it’s hard for me to really accept that it’s over -- this room, my bed, listening to all those old records, the walls, and mirrors on the walls made us feel so free. We could dress up and be who we wanted to be. The seasons would change, and I would look out the window on the setting sun doing my homework, oh god that old computer, and the bench-press we used to do completions on.
Panic flares in Anthony's eyes. He dashes to the door and creates a body blockade. “Hey, uhh man, fuck it, don’t leave.”
Ro shuffles closer to the door, “Dude, come on, what are you even talking about, Anthony? You’re acting weird.”
Anthony sits on the floor in defeat.
Alex chimes in - “yea… maybe we could just stay here, and not leave, I don’t know if I can actually move on"
Now coming together to create a bigger blockade at the door, Anthony and Alex block Ro from leaving.
"Come on dude, this is it, we can just refuse to leave.!
“You guys are nuts! The cops will get involved, they’ll wreck us, this is wrong.” Shoving through them, Ro leaves the room, and then slowly turns around before going out to the back to continue packing up the things in the garage. Alex sits back down, head in hands,
"Maybe this is crazy," he says. "I mean, I feel like one day I’ll be able to move on and I won’t need some kind of nostalgia fix from the house.” Anthony moves over to the record player still plugged in and puts on Buddy Holly. "Hey man," says Anthony, "dance bruh! It’s party time! We’ve just made a great decision! We'll stay in the house, and never leave! Who will stop us?”
The hot day turns into a warm night as Alex and Anthony barricade themselves in the room.
“Hey man, open up, your parents are here, and bro your parents are pretty pissed,” Ro shouts over the music.
“We ain't coming out bro! This is the spot!"
Both boys are drunk with pride at that apparent accomplishment of not leaving the house.
“Alex, we’d like to let you know, we are leaving. If the police come to make you vacate the premises,d hopefully you won’t get in trouble,” says his dad listening to the few footsteps drowning into nothingness.
“Maybe we should just leave," says Alex. "I don’t know if this is a good idea, --I mean, we’re like holding up a house, this is no longer ours,….. mine.” Says Alex getting up and turning the music down. “It’ll be alright dude, well just camp out here, and see what happens, I mean the new owners won’t be in here for a while right?” Anthony says. “I don’t know, I wasn’t paying attention, but we’re like doing something bad though, we’ve prevented a house from being moved out, there’s still a lot of stuff in here, we should probably move it out, or something” Alex says. “Nah dude, we’re good, I’m sure your parents and whatnot with be back tomorrow morning.
The writing on the wall, the floor that creaks, all these memories come rushing back to them both, as the sun sets, and things new, and old, fake, and real come out, shadows dancing on the walls, old birthdays remembered. Alex stands up, and finally opens the door, and leaves the room, floating slowly down through the hall, and other rooms. Suddenly he’s overwhelmed with overplayed memories going back to being a little kid, all the way up through his teen years. Each scene right in front of his eyes. Like a stream of consciousness in a dream, each step releases a new feeling, and emotion. In the dining room, always sitting there watching the tv, knowing the couch would call once he’d eaten. The healthy soda, and home cooked meals, all laid out. “There it was, there I am,” Alex said to himself, “here I was, here I am” as he touches the walls and there’s sparky running after the ball, looking happier than ever, even though he had been a dead dog for years. Anthony runs out of the room, and grabs Alex’s shoulders, “Dude! I see cop lights flashing right outside.” Finally snapping out of his trance-like state. “Shit, for us.?” Alex says running back to join Anthony in his room looking out the window. “Yes, I think they’re here for . . .” Before he can finish his sentence a mumbled megaphone can be heard. “This house is no longer yours, step out now with your hands raised, or we’ll be forced to come in.” Reacting quickly with a wild look in his eye Anthony whips out his big knife, and start walking out, and towards the front door, “I’m not going down, without a fight” he says. “You’re crazy, they’ll kill you,” trying to hold Anthony’s arm and take the knife away. They both walk to the front room, as Anthony slowly opens the door as the siren sounds get louder with each creak of the opening door. Alex again see all the colorful images right in front of his eyes, memories of old again retake him. All the family movie nights, him falling asleep, and missing most of the movie, the lazy Sundays, and all that entailed. All the sites, and sounds in front of him, Anthony playing with his knife, the cops yelling outside, the sirens, and cold air blowing in, all fade away from Alex. “There I was, there I am, here I was, here I am.” He slowly repeats to himself reaching out, and trying to touch the memories with his hand, but only grabbing air. “Fuck it man, I’m gunna fight for this house,” Antony says, grasping his knife. As the door is finally opened fully, Alex snaps out of his trance, and tackles Antony. “Hey man, what the fuck?” struggling to keep his knife grabbed in his hand. “Dude this is crazy, we can’t put ourselves in danger, and maybe get arrested for a house…. We…. have to move on man. I mean this is my house, but we’ve got to learn to give-up, and move on.” Alex says standing up, and giving Anthony a hand. “Yes, I guess we… I got carried away. It’s just this house meant a lot to me, the memories, and such. Putting his knife back in his pocket. “So should we go out?” he says slowly entering the doorway. “Yea, I think it’ll be alright, it’s the people in the house that make it, and when they leave, it’s only a house, nothing more, nothing less.” The two boys slowly leave the house where they’re met by angry police. “Get on the ground! What the hell are you guys doing in there!?” It’s the house I live… used to live in.” Alex says from the ground. “Is anyone else in there.” No, just us, and we’ll leave” Anthony says shaking. “Alright get up, we’re gunna have to take you boys in, and get this all cleared up.” The boys obliged as they are directed into the police car. “Well, I’ll have to come see your new house,” shuffling to get his handcuffed hands into a more comfortable position.” Ha yeah, Alex says, its actually pretty nice, I’m sure you’ll like it.” The car slowly drives down the street, that oh so familiar path, lined with trees, darkened front yards, and a few evening strollers. “Remember the old porch swing your neighbor had, ha, we almost broke our asses everytime. Remember all the high nights walking up, and down this street, and we felt like we were riding on spaceships on our bike rides” smiling. “Remember walking all the way to the store, and then you called Jenny, and asked if you had to cook sliced pepperoni? Ha, that was the best, and the ice-cream shop, damn that was good.” The trees zoom by faster and faster, as the old familiar becomes the urban unknown. “Remember that whole little kid stealing our watertoys at the pool, damn his dad was so mad, damn I’m gunna miss all our walks. The hot long summer nights, the cool winter days, the rain that made us want to explore, that cold wind that made us want to run. Those were the good days,” the car pulled into the police station, and the offices get out and discuss with each other. “Hey man,” Anthony said, remember when we got lost in that wooden area, it was like a little meadow in the middle of an industrial park, maybe one day I’ll go back, check it out again, see what I can see.” The cops pull the two boys, and walk them into the police station. “Remember when we all stayed up late in the garage, and pretended there were people outside, scaring each other, and we kept bugging you with the stick?” “Yea, I remember.”
Writers & Artists
Meet the Writers & Artists in this Issue
Nobu NakamuraTo edit, click on the text to start adding your own words.
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Janet MillerTo edit, click on the text to start adding your own words.
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Regina MartinTo edit, click on the text to start adding your own words.
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STACEY CAMERON
Office Manager |
MELISA PEDROWSKI
Designer |
NOBU NAKAMURA
Chief Architect |
Nobu NakamuraTo edit, click on the text to start adding your own words.
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Janet MillerTo edit, click on the text to start adding your own words.
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Regina MartinTo edit, click on the text to start adding your own words.
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