The end of the semester is near, and the Creative Writing class is posting to their blogs one last week officially before they begin assessing their likes, followers, favorite posts, etc. If you haven’t checked them out, please do. If you haven’t liked anything lately, please like them.
Some of these writers will appear in the eighth-annual edition of our literary journal, a publication committed to publishing the art and writing of community college students and the rest of the world.
This tiny man on tip-toe returned to the soda machine six times, proud he could reach and in search of a sample of everything but the diet and the iced tea.
La Favorita restaurant in West Sacramento should have al fresco dining just as El Importador on the Zocalo in central Oaxaca because it has some of the same flavors. The attention to authentic flavors is right here in these three cocktail glasses: horchata, jamaica, and tamarindo.
The michelada isn’t quite as spicy (and it comes with a shrimp hanging from the side as if it might be a shrimp cocktail); the pickled carrots, potatoes, and peppers are no longer crisp, but not so tender as to be mushy.
The carne asada tacos and tortas arrive at the table fast and are siesta-inducing filling. They even make handmade tortillas on weekends to accompany the hearty soups.
This little shop, decorated with horses and rodeo posters, including one of floreo de riata, rope turning, wafts with the scents and sounds of the zocalo, too. Just being here has inspired me to find a $400 flight to Mexico City in June.
On Friday, I, and several of my friends, went to Davis to take a tour of Sudwerk’s brewery: The Dock.
There is a restaurant adjacent to the brewery, but we started with a flight of samples from the beer makers. The first was named: Three Best Friends. It was unanimously our favorite of the five or six we sampled.
In fact, it made us wish we had the appropriate lexicon to describe what we were tasting, but we couldn’t come up with anything between the five of us. Nothing. You’ll just have to go try it yourself.
Their core lineup includes: Northern Pilsner, Marzen Amber Lager, Hefeweizen Bavarian Wheat, and Dry Hop Lager.
We had three samples before we set off on the tour, and I was hungry and then tipsy. And then climbing stairs to see the grain silo and then ambling into the cooler. Finally, I was elbowing my friends and giggling and guffawing about words such as yeast and lager and Cascaderade.
I felt sorry for the tour guide who really wanted us to be sober home brewers so he could go into great detail about the process, but we were tittering to our fill of the tipple.
The Dock is located north of the restaurant’s entrance, at the roll up door. 2001 – 2nd St., Davis, CA 95618.
At first, we thought maybe we were in the opening scene of a Law and Order episode, one of the versions where a dead body is found by some unsuspecting passersby in the opening minutes. But she was still breathing.
And, by the time we’d eaten, she had disappeared from the lawn outside the taqueria, but not from the pit of our stomachs, the place that aches when something is long lost or too broken.
It is 11:30 pm pdt, and M, Mr. Right, and I are camped out on the lawn to see the lunar eclipse.
It is a fat crescent at this point. It’s on the way to a comma, and is happening faster than I might have predicted.
I remember my first lunar eclipse. I couldn’t have been much more than four.
Before letting me stay up way past my bedtime, dad used a dollhouse’s frying pan and a flashlight on the wall of our apartment. He patiently taught
me what to look for as I would sleepily stare up into the sky.