Gone Fishing

It’s Sunday afternoon, and I’ve decided not to pretend to have posted something yesterday by backdating it. At the same time, I don’t want anyone to worry. The day – yesterday, that is – began with a funeral in Park Slope at which I represented my family. Kathleen was kind enough to come with me. Not only that; she arranged for a car to take us there. (We came home on the train – three trains, actually.) I spent the afternoon cleaning, as usual, and when I was through with that I was seized by the desire to cook, something that hasn’t happened very often lately. I went to the store with a list, but I didn’t read it carefully and came back without cream. I went out again. Later, I made Suprêmes de vollaile aux champignons.

As soon as I’ve worked out the vast discrepancy between Julia Child’s timing and mine – her six to eight minutes was my twenty – I’ll write about this basic but delicious dish, which chicken breasts are baked in a casserole with mushrooms and a bit of green onion. When the breasts are cooked – that’s what took so long – they’re set aside in a warm place while the casserole is used to make a broth, wine, and cream reduction. Miam.

Yesterday was cool but glorious. Today not so much. It’s a great day for reading. Kathleen and I strolled over to Madison Avenue, where I bought a “toastrack” at the stationery store. You know, one of those thingies with three (or more) sections for sorting mail.

Speaking of getting organized, I have a new habit, and it’s getting me through The Economist, which, as you may know, is a shockingly expensive weekly. There is no point to subscribing to The Economist and then not reading it. At the same time, it’s hardly amusing reading. My new habit, or policy, is this: when in transit, or waiting somewhere, The Economist is the only permitted reading material. (If I’m eating alone, I can read whatever I please.) Every Saturday, I remove the previous week’s issue from my shoulder bag and replace it with the new one. It works! I may not read the whole magazine, but I get it covered. Now all I need is the ability to remember what I read.