Yesterday, Apryl started cooking at 2pm, right after church. She made:
- braised pork shoulder with red wine, grapes, and dried figs over scallopped potatos and onions
- steamed mussels with aioli
- squash with the last of the Armenian paprika
- spicy sauteed shrimp
- quartered tomatoes
- chilled leeks with vinaigrette
- roasted garlic and mushroom crostini
- and by special request from Nicolas, incredible financiers (from scratch!)
And she is coming over this morning to make brunch with the ham and cheeses that Katie got from Murray’s. I told her I was meeting with my prayer partners this afternoon, and she said, Oh, good! I’ll make them lunch.
I’m worried she’s depressed. Just kidding.
We screened “Being There,” with Peter Sellers and Shirley Maclaine last night. Steve said it was what “Forrest Gump” tried to be. He was right. and it was funny.
Now Dorothy is having breakfast midtown, Tom is late for his acting class in favor of reading us poetry out loud, and Gabe is lying on my sofa refusing to listen to Haydn because she says it’s like being at work. I am no longer jealous of professional musicians. No Haydn in the morning? What kind of existence is that?
glasses off. 