Iced coffee from beans roasted at Porto Rico on Bleecker, a full day of nothing but fun, and suddenly the dog days of summer, when things are wilting, seem to be a time when anything is possible. Don’t you just love delusions?
Last night it was bone-in Coho, tonight it’ll be bone-in halibut. Last night it was fresh morels, tonight it’ll be fresh chanterelles. And Sunday? Why, who knows?
It’s a funny thing about food: the more stress I see or recognize, the more I think about food.
I’m reading Marcus Samuelsson’s great memoir, speaking of food, and writing about East Africa. What wonders!