we loved to trust him


Sushi Nozawa is closing on February 29th after 24 years in Studio City. Allegedly designated as the “Sushi Nazi” by his admirers and detractors, Kazunori Nozawa is known for claiming daily fishmarket dibs at the crack of dawn and eschewing all pandering and pollution in serving his omakase.

Nozawa will continue to oversee his rapidly proliferating prix fixe Sugarfish sushi bars. But his craftsmanship and comportment will be sorely missed in their dining rooms. Nozawa’s imperious service instantly separated vexatious vulgarians and fastidious foodies from discerning and diligent disciples. Time and again I saw Hollywood celebrities and Wall Street mavens reduced to solicitous timidity at his sushi counter. My favorite vegetarian relinquished a life-long, second-generation herbivorous scruples and eagerly embraced the ingestion of flesh upon her first exposure to Nozawa’s handiwork. So long, Chef Nozawa. I regret your departure, but hope and trust you to enjoy your hard earned retirement.



Nozawa’s fans…
…and their fodder.


the pointy end goes into the other man

“In a fight almost anything goes. It almost reaches the point where you stop to apologize if a chance blow lands above the belt.”

— Saul Alinsky, Rules for Radicals

A sword meant for Lieutenant Wong. Somewhat scuffed but super sharp. Not sure about Nagamitsu having been a prison warden, but he certainly knew his way to keen steel, even whilst never expecting it to arm a dissolute Chinaman. Continue reading the pointy end goes into the other man

miyuki ishibashi


Ishibashi’s strong resentment toward the establishment stems from her family’s plight at the end of World War II, a war she blames on Japanese militarists.
    As Japan’s defeat became increasingly evident in 1944, Ishibashi’s father was drafted in Korea.
    He died a year later. Ishibashi said her mother “went through hell” in the course of being repatriated to Japan and in raising her then 1-year-old daughter amid the rubble of a defeated nation.
    After graduating from Waseda, Ishibashi spent some 10 years as a singer and actress, traveling to Russia for the first time in 1976. She was captivated by Moscow’s desolate nature, which dovetailed with her childhood hardships.
    Ishibashi began to collect and sing underground Russian songs, which portrayed the true feelings of the people suppressed by the communist regime, and grew increasingly aware of the reality of Soviet life.

—Yumi Wijers-Hasegawa, “Songs of oppressed now serve to inspire”, The Japan Times, 25 March 2003