The Brief

DELANO, Calif. — A few hours north of Los Angeles, the small city of Delano is surrounded by miles and miles of grapevines, orange groves and almond orchards. According to Monike Reynozo, everyone here either works in those fields, or knows someone who does.

"This is what drives and fuels our city," she said.

Reynozo works for a youth advocacy group known as Loud For Tomorrow, but she said her parents were farmworkers, and their parents before them.

On a recent spring morning, she's walking down an alley to a brightly colored mural that covers the side of a building in the center of town. It shows people in sun hats harvesting fruit, and a little girl proudly holding a bunch of plump, purple grapes.

"It really showcases some of our local farm labor movement leaders as well as the diverse faces of Delano," she said.

One of the most prominent faces on the mural is César Chavez, who lived in Delano for nine years. The city was also home to the first headquarters of the United Farm Workers (UFW) labor union, which he cofounded in the 1960s and has been lobbying for reforms to farm labor ever since. He's long been considered a local hero.

Monike Reynozo, associate director of programs for the non-profit Loud for Tomorrow, stands in front of a mural depicting Cesar Chavez and other leaders of the farm labor movement in downtown Delano, Calif. on March 29.

(

Jennifer Emerling for NPR

)

A mural depicting civil rights icon Cesar Chavez, along with other leaders of the farm labor movement in downtown Delano, Calif. on March 29. In the fallout of the sexual abuse allegations against Chavez, many landmarks are under review to be renamed and his likeness is being taken down across California.

(

Jennifer Emerling for NPR

)

But earlier this month the New York Times published a bombshell investigation alleging the late civil rights leader sexually abused young girls in the 1970s, and raped his longtime ally and co-leader in the farmworkers labor movement, Dolores Huerta in the 1960s. The investigation came out nearly two weeks before Chavez's birthday – March 31 – which has long been a holiday in many places. And in the aftermath of the allegations, some states, including California, have scrambled to rename the day. Meanwhile, farmworker communities are reeling – especially in Central California, which became the cradle of the farm labor movement.

As Reynozo looks up at his portrait, she says the allegations against him are heartbreaking. He was one of her role models. But she thinks this mural – and the farmworker narrative – don't need him anymore.

"He's just one individual amongst, you know, thousands of people who have been fighting for this and continue to fight for it," she said.

No consensus among Delano residents on how to process allegations

Across California, statues of Chavez are being torn down and elected officials are moving to erase his name from public spaces.

Some in Delano are pushing for similar changes. The Delano Joint Union High School District voted last week to rename Cesar E. Chavez High School. And city leaders are likely to discuss renaming the city's Cesar Chavez Park in a city council meeting in early April.

"Everything that we want to take into account, for how does accountability look like at the Delano level, will be on the table," said city councilmember Bryan Osorio.

But he's not certain the city council will vote to make changes, because there's a lot of resistance here.

Cesar E. Chavez High School in Delano, Calif. After sexual abuse allegations came out against Cesar Chavez, local students organized a petition to change the name of the school.

(

Jennifer Emerling for NPR

)

Cesar E. Chavez Park in Delano, Calif. In the fallout of the sexual abuse allegations against Chavez, the park is under review to be renamed by city council.

(

Jennifer Emerling for NPR

)

Chavez's union helped transform conditions for farmworkers – including higher pay, work breaks, and even bathrooms, which weren't guaranteed in the fields. That changed people's lives. And that's why, Osorio says, many are struggling with the allegations against Chavez. Some even feel angry at his accusers.

"This man was a huge part of Delano's history, is still part of Delano's history," Osorio said. "There's always going to be folks who are skeptical."

That includes Armando Pulido. He picks grapes in the nearby town of Earlimart. And like a lot of farmworkers in the area, he says he doesn't believe Chavez's accusers.

"I think everything is a lie, that they made up, because they came out with it now after Chavez died," he said in Spanish. "Why didn't they bring it up while he was alive?"

Dolores Huerta explained why she waited to come forward in an interview with Latino USA on March 19.

"When people say, why didn't you leave? Why didn't you tell people? Well, this is why, because I felt that my coming out and saying what occurred would have hurt the movement," she said.

United Farm Workers leaders Dolores Huerta and Cesar Chavez display photos of the conditions that farmworkers endure in San Joaquin Valley farm labor camps at a news conference outside U.S. District Court in Fresno, California, on Nov. 21, 1989.

(

Richard Darby/Fresno Bee/Tribune News Service via Getty Images

)

The New York Times reported that some people had previously been made aware of abuse claims by two other women – Ana Murgia and Debra Rojas – and nothing came of it. They cited internal emails among union members about Murgia's claims going back over a decade. And they also said Rojas posted a message over ten years ago about Chavez's alleged abuse to a private Facebook group for longtime Chavez organizers and supporters – and "was accused by some who saw it or heard about it of jeopardizing all that had been accomplished." NPR has not independently confirmed these details.

Some see an opportunity for more informed conversations

Whether or not the city ultimately erases Chavez's name from public spaces, some think this is an opportunity to highlight other pivotal labor leaders – including Filipino organizer Larry Itliong.

Itliong, who was born in 1913, organized farmworkers for decades before Chavez and Huerta came along. And Filipino workers under Itliong's leadership started the 1965 Delano Grape Strike, which later led to the founding of the UFW.

"A lot of Filipinos, to this day, we always say: without Larry Itliong, there'd be no Cesar Chavez," said Rogelio "Roger" Gadiano, who was born in the Philippines and grew up in Delano.

Cesar Chevez's Huelga Day March in San Francisco, 1966: Julio Hernandez (UFW officer), Larry Itliong (UFW director), and Cesar Chavez.

(

Gerald French/Corbis via Getty Images

)

Gadiano worked in the fields off and on from childhood into middle age. Today, he leads tours of local historical sites that were important to the early farm labor movement. That includes The Forty Acres, a sprawling site on the outskirts of town that held the UFW's first headquarters as well as a retirement village for aging Filipino farmworkers.

Gadiano wishes Itliong's story – and the story of Filipino farmworkers – were better known.

"We got buried in history," he said. "We were the spark, the ultimate spark."

Whatever happens with Chavez's legacy, Gadiano hopes this situation can lead to more informed conversations about farmworker history.

Copyright 2026 KVPR

This story first appeared on The LA Local.

East Los Angeles resident Nataly Degante, 35, saw an over $200 increase in her utility bill this month — the result of running five air purifiers in her home 24/7 to keep out pollutants and the stench of rotting food since the Lineage warehouse fire. Her AC unit also runs occasionally, when the heat becomes unbearable, Degante said. Opening the windows isn’t an option.

“I had those air purifiers on 24/7, all the time, even at night because in the night it smells the absolute worst…The amount of my bill is too much,” Degante said. Her children, 10 and 14, often complain about the smell and early on, they experienced headaches, nausea and nosebleeds as a result of the fire, she said. 

City and county agencies as well as Lineage have given away thousands of air purifiers to residents throughout the month at various resource sites or through door-to-door distribution. Officials have touted the resource in their response efforts and have also promised utility bill assistance to offset the costs of running the purifiers for long hours. 

The result? In Boyle Heights, Lineage has donated $50,000 that will automatically go towards covering the bill for 219 LA Department of Water and Power (LADWP) customers living closest to the fire. Now, LA County Supervisor Hilda Solis wants Lineage to pledge to do the same for unincorporated East LA, which gets electricity via Southern California Edison (SCE). Officials didn’t immediately provide details whether additional support would be available. Meanwhile, a coalition of community groups has been calling for widespread relief as poor air quality has affected not just homes immediately surrounding the warehouse, but neighboring areas as well.

The promise to cover utility bills for residents affected by the fire was first brought up at a roundtable meeting between Bass, Councilmember Ysabel Jurado and local business owners who said they’d experienced lower foot traffic due to the smoke and smell but still had bills to pay. Bass pledged to speak to the general manager of the LADWP to discuss what could be done about utility bills. 

In a July 9 interview with Boyle Heights Beat, Bass advised LA residents to “save your DWP bills,” to compare their costs before and after the fire and hopefully provide some relief. At a contentious town hall meeting between Lineage, city and county officials and hundreds of residents that evening, Jeff Rivera, chief operating officer of Lineage, presented a new wave of support for those living near the warehouse that included “Supporting residents utility bills through LADWP.”

Exactly what that support would look like has been unclear until now.

According to LADWP, 219 customers located closest to the Lineage warehouse will soon have an automatic, fixed, one-time payment applied to their accounts. LADWP said the payments were funded through a “private donation,” but could not share any information about the private donor or how the homes were chosen. 

Bass’ office told The Beat that the private donation of $50,000 came from Lineage and the 219 homes were chosen because they are LADWP customers that live within the boundary of what officials have determined is the area with the most need. The city and county have used the same map to determine what homes are eligible for temporary housing assistance through AirBnB. The map covers homes in both Boyle Height and East LA located between Los Palos Street and Hicks Avenue and Union Pacific Avenue and Beswick Street, but officials have never explained why those boundaries were chosen.  

East Los Angeles resident Nataly Degante, 35, saw an over $200 increase in her utility bill this month — the result of running five air purifiers in her home 24/7 to keep out pollutants and the stench of rotting food since the Lineage warehouse fire. Her AC unit also runs occasionally, when the heat becomes unbearable, Degante said. Opening the windows isn’t an option.

According to the mayor’s office, Bass is “working to raise additional funds to expand the number of residents and businesses that can benefit from this assistance.”

So far, residents in unincorporated East LA are not included in the utility bill assistance funded by Lineage. 

On Friday, LA County Supervisor Hilda Solis called that out, writing in a statement that “no comparable assistance was secured for East Los Angeles” by Lineage. Solis said she connected with SCE to ensure residents were also being supported and promoted a phone number in an Instagram post for residents to call. 

East LA resident Degante called that number this week and was disappointed to find out that the assistance available was not more comprehensive. SCE has provided options for customers to opt for a payment plan or apply for SCE’s Energy Assistance Fund which allows customers experiencing hardship to receive a grant of up to $200 through a partner organization like the Salvation Army. Applying for the grant needs to be done directly through the organization.  

“Quite frankly, from what I saw in the Instagram post, I thought it was gonna be like a pardon. … It was not the case,” Degante said. 

Now she worries that even if help becomes available for East LA residents, she will not be eligible because she lives about a mile and a half from Lineage. 

“Now I see an immense need for East LA to have its own council, to have its own city hall, because I don’t feel like we’re being seen. I feel like if anything, we’re being ignored,” Degante said. 

A coalition of affected residents known as Protect LA Now, is using the term “Eastside+” to describe the broader area they say was also impacted by the fire including Maywood, Huntington Park, Cudahy, Commerce, Montebello, Monterey Park and El Sereno.

On Wednesday, Protect LA Now urged local officials and Gov. Gavin Newsom to act to provide relief for residents who are now “forced to pay outrageous electric bills.” 

“These families are still waiting for government officials to have solutions- not to hand every public health decision to Lineage, the company that caused this,” Protect LA Now said in a statement Wednesday. The group planned a community vigil and teach-in on Wednesday evening at Resurrection Church in Boyle Heights.

At Tuesday’s LA County Board of Supervisors meeting, the government body that provides representation to unincorporated areas like East LA, Solis convened multiple agencies including the South Coast Air Quality Management District, LA County Public Health and SCE to review ongoing recovery efforts and provide clarity on the support available. 

Dave Ford, senior government relations manager for SCE, said during the meeting that the utility company was in conversation with Lineage to provide support for residents of East LA, too.

“We’re looking at working with them on very similar program that they have provided for the city of Los Angeles and doing the same in the unincorporated area of East LA,” Ford said. 

Christian Garcia of SCE thanked Solis for “helping to bring Lineage to the table,” adding, “…it was a little bit frustrating to get them in there.” 

Garcia said Lineage is now establishing a fund for more than 100 SCE customers in unincorporated East LA to receive some relief on their bill, similar to those in Boyle Heights. The exact numbers are still being finalized.

“I think what the minimum is to request nothing less than what the city is receiving,” Solis said. 

Lineage told Boyle Heights Beat that they are working on solidifying the details of their support with SCE.

How to know if you qualify: 

According to LADWP, an automatic payment will be applied to customers that live within the designated boundary (between Los Palos Street, Hicks Avenue, Union Pacific Avenue and Beswick Street).

No further action is required from qualified customers.

What support is available for residents that live outside of the boundary?

LADWP customers can request:

• Payment arrangements: No down payment, no interest, no fees; A long-term payment option that divides the total account balance evenly across a specified number of billing periods.
• Payment extension: A short-term payment option that gives customers additional time, up to one billing period, to pay their full balance.
• Level pay: A billing option that helps you plan by providing predictable monthly bills based on average usage. You can also roll in past-due balances.

To inquire about these programs, call 1-800-DIAL-DWP, visit a customer service center or use the online form on LADWP.com/ContactUs .

LADWP customers can also apply for the Low Income Home Energy Assistance Program (LIHEAP) through the Maravilla Foundation. But the Maravilla Foundation website says that due to reduced government funding and high demand, fewer applications are being accepted. To qualify for LIHEAP, the monthly income for a family of four must not exceed $6,407.16. A full list of requirements and application instructions can be found here.

SCE customers can apply for:

• A number of income-based programs to have discounts applied to their bill including the California Alternate Rates for Energy and Family Electric Rate Assistance. 
• Payment plans, including a long-term installment plan, so customers can spread their balance over time with manageable payments, and the Budget Billing Plan, which helps spread energy costs more evenly throughout the year.
• The Energy Assistance Fund, which provides one-time bill assistance of up to $200. SCE works with United Way and over 80 community-based organizations to provide the assistance but customers need to apply directly through the organization. To find the partner organization closest to you, click here.

The team leading L.A. County’s push to close Men’s Central Jail says a full closure is not feasible in the next five years.

This is yet another delay since the county Board of Supervisors voted in July 2020 to close the jail within one year. A two-year plan was announced in 2021, then a five-year plan in 2024.

The Jail Closure Implementation Team, also known as JCIT, told the Board of Supervisors this week that they’ve outlined a framework that will improve conditions for thousands of people in L.A. County’s justice system, but the steps they’ve identified are still not enough to safely close the jail within the five-year timeline.

Some supervisors expressed frustration in the lack of progress, but restated their commitment to close the jail. They passed a subsequent measure to provide $28 million this year for JCIT’s work.

“Men’s Central Jail is a decrepit, outdated facility inconsistent with human values and basic decency,” Supervisor Janice Hahn told LAist in a statement after the vote. “It puts both those incarcerated there and our sheriff’s deputies at risk.”

Hahn and other county supervisors have emphasized the need for a collaborative and comprehensive effort to shut down the jail without compromising public safety.

Inhumane conditions

Why close the jail?

“The reason it's important to close the jail is that the jail is a hellhole,” Eric Miller told LAist. “It is physically disgusting and is an inhumane place to house anybody.”

Miller is a professor at Loyola Law School and was a member of the Sybil Brand Commission until he stepped down in February.

That commission, tasked with oversight of county jails and lockups, visited the Men’s Central Jail earlier this month and found issues with the quality of drinking water, moldy or burned food, people not receiving toilet paper or other hygiene products and delayed medical care.

A May inspection also found rust and gnats in drinking water and concerns that people’s grievances and medical requests were going unanswered.

“The Sybil Brand reports have been consistent that the jail is infested with vermin and mold,” Miller said, “and it's not limited to one place in the jail.”

Miller said the issues aren't limited to Men’s Central Jail either, and closing the facility won’t fix underlying problems in how people are treated in the L.A. County’s justice system.

There have been 23 deaths in L.A. County custody since the beginning of the year, according to the LASD website. Six of those deaths occurred at Men’s Central Jail.

The Sheriff's Department said it takes findings from inspections seriously and works to address them.

“Despite ongoing challenges, including a rising inmate population and an aging Men's Central Jail, our staff have remained committed to providing constitutional, humane care to those in our custody,” the department wrote in a statement. “We are proud of the progress we've made and confident in our ability to continue delivering meaningful change for our community.”

A path to closure

Wilford Pinkney Jr., the executive director of JCIT, told the Board of Supervisors on Tuesday that by expanding diversionary programs, pretrial services and other strategies, the daily population at the jail could be reduced by more than 800 people by 2031.

Pinkney said JCIT also estimated that just over one-quarter of the 4,020 people currently incarcerated at Men’s Central Jail might be relocated to other facilities, allowing one floor of the facility to close in the next five years.

Many could not be housed anywhere else due to "specialty housing needs, security level, or a requirement to be housed in a single cell,” he said.

The repeated delays have drawn criticism from justice reform advocates, loved ones of people incarcerated there and public officials.

“ I understand frustration because people don't see action,” Pinkney told LAist before Tuesday’s Board of Supervisors meeting.

During the meeting, he said JCIT has been working to provide tested solutions and show that the county is making progress.

Janet Asante of the JusticeLA Coalition said it's a good sign to finally have more substantive plans on how jail closure will move forward.

“ We've been fighting for [JCIT] to even exist,” Asante told LAist. “They did not get staff until November or December of 2024, and that's four years after the vote to close Men's Central Jail without a replacement.”

She said JusticeLA hopes they see urgent action from the county and stronger leadership from JCIT.

Skepticism has also come from those who think the process may still be moving too quickly.

David Slayton, the executive officer of the L.A. County Superior Court, wrote a letter to Pinkney on June 29 saying the court had “significant concerns.”

He wrote that the plans relied on “increased Court capacity, additional courtroom availability, expanded judicial officer staffing, new physical space, and enhanced operational infrastructure — none of which the Court can currently accommodate" without additional funding from the state.

Other advocates, like Marcel Rodarte from the California Contract Cities Association, cautioned against risking public safety.

“We ask you to keep every option on the table, including replacement capacity, and to make no final decision until adequate capacity, services, and funding are in place," Rodarte said at Tuesday’s meeting.

Officials respond

Supervisors remain committed to closing the jail.

Supervisor Holly Mitchell told LAist in a statement that it’s “not just about closing a building—it is about transforming a system and is integral to the County's broader public safety strategy.”

She said the new report from JCIT was a “sobering reminder” of the work left to do.

Supervisor Lindsey Horvath pressed JCIT and other county offices Tuesday to give a more concrete action plan and timeline.

Supervisor Kathryn Barger also pushed for urgent action from the board and JCIT toward closing the jail during the meeting, but said she also believes the county needs to build a replacement facility that could more safely and affordably house people currently at Men’s Central Jail.

Sheriff Robert Luna told supervisors that he supports plans to close Men’s Central Jail, but that he sees a need for a new facility.

“ The population that I serve and care for has completely changed,” Luna said. “We have to pay attention to the data and make sure that we move forward collectively together to make sure that we're caring for the people in our custody.”

The board has so far rejected options for a replacement jail since plans for the Consolidated Correctional Treatment Facility were canceled in 2019.

The Los Angeles Police Department recently suspended its contract with Flock Safety, a surveillance company whose use of AI-powered automated license plate readers has raised questions about civil liberties and data sharing in communities nationwide.

That doesn't mean LAPD’s relationship with Flock is over.

The department said it let its previous agreement with Flock lapsed due to questions over who owns and who can access the data gathered in the city. Currently, LAPD officials are negotiating a new deal, which, they say, will include more safeguards.

How you can have a say

For Angelenos who want to weigh in on the move, the LAPD’s Office of the Inspector General will hold a public meeting on July 30.

Chad Marlow, senior policy counsel at the American Civil Liberties Union, said he believes community input is crucial when it comes to this technology. He said that input should determine how — or even if— localities decide to implement license plate readers.

Police departments, he said, can get “very tunnel-visioned on law enforcement motives, and they don't think about community impact . . . If you want to come up with the right motives, so you come up with the right solutions, you need to start with listening to people in the community.”

What law enforcement says about Flock technology

Law enforcement agencies say the tech helps them with criminal investigations and makes it easier to locate stolen vehicles.

One local example: Costa Mesa voted this week 6-1 to keep its Flock contract. Officials cited success in three missing person cases, 20 stolen car recoveries, as well as helping solve 10 sexual assaults, according to Voice of OC coverage of the meeting.

That said, even in cities where elected officials have touted successes, more and more questions are being asked about who has access to the data gathered locally.

Data privacy concerns

In Greater L.A., cities like South Pasadena and South Gate have moved to cut ties with Flock over privacy concerns. So has the Oxnard Police Department.

L.A. residents have expressed concerns about the misuse and abuse of data. Public outcry sharpened after reports that some local law enforcement agencies illegally shared license plate reader data with federal immigration agents.

The ACLU’s Marlow, who specializes in privacy, surveillance and technology issues, said some cities using the Flock technology scan plates against existing hot lists and then immediately delete the data.

“If that is your goal, identifying cars of interest to law enforcement, then you have no need to store the data for any more than a couple of minutes,” he said. “And you certainly don't have a need to share it broadly.”

He said it shouldn't be used for tracking “what doctors' offices you go to, what political meetings you go to, what religious institutions you go to.”

How to weigh-in on the LAPD’s Flock negotiations

When: The public listening session will take place on Thursday, July 30, at 4:00 p.m. on Zoom at this link.

How to get up to speed: The Office of the Inspector General also shared a report on the LAPD’s automatic license plate reader system.

Kevin Tidmarsh contributed to this reporting.

"Japanese people, we do not eat too much sushi and ramen, actually. We eat so many different things," says chef Yoya Takahashi.

You've probably noticed that Japanese food in the U.S. has a tendency to fall into certain lanes — sushi, ramen and the like. For Takahashi, after years working in Japanese restaurants across L.A., the repetitive nature of doing the same fish, the same sequence, every day, was driving him almost to his wits' end.

That's when his izakaya concept started to take shape. A drinking and dining experience that was personal and, more importantly, a truer vision of the diverse offerings of Japanese cooking back home. No set menu, a more seasonal approach, Japanese food on its own terms. Basically, whatever the hell he wanted.

The result is Homareya, his izakaya in downtown Long Beach.

What to order

The menu moves with the improvisational ease of a Jerry Garcia guitar solo — unhurried, searching, funky and cool, following the thread wherever it leads, and always landing somewhere that feels inevitable.

It spans the raw, the grilled, the fried, the fermented — Japanese and Californian in equal measure, almost autobiographical in its range. It began with saba nigiri — lightly torched, iridescent skin, 15-year-old vinegar rice, a quiet nod to his sushi roots. Then he moves on to a couple of yakitori skewers — simple and satisfying, approachable and adventurous between the same few bites of chicken thigh and liver. The monkfish karaage arrives looking like chicken and tastes like something better — his non-conforming nature in a single bite.

The Japadilla — a Sonoratown tortilla filled with soy-simmered beef, Jidori egg, konnyaku, mozzarella, sansho pepper and ichimi — is the dish that says everything about Takahashi's cooking.

(

Gab Chabrán

/

LAist

)

Then there's the Japadilla — a Sonoratown tortilla charred over binchotan and filled with soy-simmered beef, Jidori egg, konnyaku (a starchy Japanese root vegetable), mozzarella, sansho pepper and ichimi. Unapologetically Long Beach. Completely his own.

Takahashi regularly visits farmers markets in Long Beach and Cerritos — no further — along with tending a small plot at a community garden a few miles north of the restaurant. His wife Yoshiko Nishibe is the Bob Weir to his Garcia, bringing her own creative spirit to an in-house fermentation program — koji, miso, mirin, fermented soy, all from scratch — and not afraid to experiment with unexpected bases like chickpea and mustard miso, the latter showing up in the firefly squid special, a dish that rewards the curious diner who orders off the menu.

Why Long Beach

Moving to Long Beach 15 years ago, Takahashi fell in love with the bar scene — a city long known for its old-school haunts. It was the individual free spirits he identified with that made it feel like home.

Homareya, on Linden Ave. in downtown Long Beach.

(

Courtesy Homareya

)

At Homareya, the menu includes sake, wine, and Japanese craft beer, all hand-selected. The wine list itself is a partnership with local bottle shop Buvons, where he sometimes pops up. Then there's the shochu — a Japanese spirit distilled from ingredients like barley, sweet potato, or rice, lighter than most Western spirits and endlessly versatile — which is perhaps the most personal part of the program.

Five selections anchored by the Beni Otome, a sesame shochu that Takahashi serves poured directly over hojicha, a roasted green tea, nutty, herbaceous, and exactly right for a Long Beach summer.

His background

Takahashi grew up in Kyoto, before immigrating to the U.S. in 2000 with only a backpack and a dream of becoming an actor. It makes perfect sense once you look at him — his long grey ponytail, tattooed arms, and unmistakable gruff voice would make him a shoo-in for a bit part in an independent film with the likes of Jim Jarmusch or Wes Anderson.

He ended up washing dishes to pay rent until someone suggested he try making sushi instead — eventually landing in Little Tokyo, where he trained at Hamakawa, a now-closed institution, and later in Gardena at Kanpachi. Learning directly from older Japanese mentors, watching and doing, no internet to fall back on.

The open kitchen at Homareya puts every move in full view of the room.

(

Courtesy Homareya

)

His grandfather was a stage actor back in Kyoto, and one of those mentors once told him the sushi counter works the same way. Same instincts, different medium — you see it in the quiet, calculated way Takahashi moves before setting a plate down in front of you.

For Takahashi, Homareya represents a reclamation of something: his voice, his cooking, his terms. The name says it plainly — Homare, an alternate reading of the chef's own name, paired with ya, the Japanese word for home. At Homareya, that's not a concept. It's a promise.