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Issue Five Contributors

Lisa Allen
Jason Anthony
Bonnie Lee Black
Gaylord Brewer
Sheila Byrne
Jasmin Darznik
Orman Day
Anthony Di Renzo
Liz Dolan
John W. Evans
Ivan Ewert
Martin Galvin
Stephen Gibson
Tzivia Gover
Michael Hettich
A.M. Juster
Toshiya Kamei
Ann Lauinger
Meg Lindsay
ChloƩ Yelena Miller
Tomas Q. Morin
Donald Newlove
Laura Polley
J.D. Smith
Alisa Slaughter
Virginia Chase Sutton
Daniel Thompson
Robert Tremmel
Ryuichiro Utsumi
Carolyn Wells
Richard Wile

ISSUE FIVE Winter 2008


Jason Anthony offers up a sample of Hoosh (an Antarctic stew of dubious ingredients); Bonnie Lee Black introduces American bread to West Africa; A.M. Juster's lively translation of Horace's Satire IV; Anthony DiRenzo invites you in for an Italian aperitif; Jasmin Darznik's Mrs. Jahangir finds Iranian memories in her rice pot; and Toshiya Kamei's translation of Utsumi's poignant story Carrots.

Plus: a grocery cart disaster; Czeslaw Milosz grows a garden; the girl who doesn't eat; why the Russians drink tea; a fan letter to fortified oat flakes; cooking for a lobsterman; and much more... 30 writers & poets.


Issue Five excerpts...


From Hoosh by Jason Anthony

A quick course in Antarctic cuisine shows that living off the land was de rigueur in the early exploration of the continent. While few of the carnivorous skuas made it to the stove, untold thousands of seals, penguins and penguin eggs (boiled and fried) were consumed by small groups of men scattered across the Antarctic coast. The shipwrecked 1901-1904 Nordenskjold expedition, for example, facing another bleak hungry winter, had just stolen 6,000 eggs from an Adelie penguin rookery when their rescuers suddenly arrived.


From Still Life with Food by Shelia Byrne

I unwrap the croissant. The pastry is golden-brown, sunny looking. I tear it apart. It is hard, especially at the tips where the roll has congealed into crumbly kernels of hardened butter. No matter. I dip the end into my coffee, a toe in the water, and the coffee grows a tiny oil slick from fat dispersing in the heat. The croissant swells a bit with its infusion. I slide it into my mouth-soft, tasty layers of java-flavored flakiness. With each bite I forget myself, my job, my trials, and am borne upward, out of this town, out of this job, on wisps of coffee steam, to a land of air-conditioned cafes with flaky buttery pastries and pots of jam everywhere, piano music playing in the background.


From Apertif by Anthony DiRenzo

My liquor cabinet is stocked with irony, different brands of irony. Some are harsh like Campari, others sour like Lemoncello, others semisweet like Cynar. Which would you prefer? I keep plenty on hand since the fall of the Berlin Wall and the Twin Towers. For a lapsed Socialist and a failed saint, who dreamed of writing for the Catholic Worker, the past twenty-five years have been a super-sizing of humble pie.


From A Man Catches Hilsa Fish in the Jamuna River Just Before Monsoon Season by John Evans

It is his nation's pride, this sacred and sweet white fish, in legend as big as tiger sharks. So he wires a length of bamboo and wades into the river, knotting a balloon of fabric to hold only the young females, their coppery egg sacs like grapevines beneath the water. His son watches from an island mid-stream, his feet just covered in mud. Far away, glaciers begin to unfreeze and soon the rivers will swell.