This Hamptons weekend I cooked and slept very poorly. Okay, I cooked well, but I slept v poorly. It was like a fever without the TLC or stack of magazines. Hot-cold, toss-turn. I was miserable. Maybe the nightmares came from the image of my ass. And to top it off, all the food I cooked went under-appreciated, as all the participating taste buds were dull, okay, were soused to the gills. So for your web pleasure, here’s the menu:
Pinwheels of fresh mozzarella, mascarpone, pesto, and tomato on crostini.
Oozy hot brie with tart apple slices.
Warm goat cheese tartlettes with apple and lemon thyme.
Bouillabaisse (fish stew) with rosemary ciabatta, brushed with red pepper aioli.
Fresh berry pudding with vanilla bean ice cream.
A food coma, complete with hangover and terrible nights sleep.
I missed Linus more than I can say. When I arrived home, I fell onto my bed and let him lick up my nose until it hurt. After our make out session, he told me I had a nice ass. I slept very well.
Okay, so he doesn’t talk… yet.