This evening, as I reclined in my reclining chair with my pipe, my copy of Boswell’s "Life of Samuel Johnson" and my snifter of port, I felt a disturbance. It was not the braying of my children, which I have…
I sometimes wonder whether the chicken or the egg came first when I’m reading a recipe that calls for beaten egg whites. Then I eat an omelette, and I feel better. I also think a lot about waffles, but I…
Tomorrow, of course, marks the end of the month-long celebration of my birth. I would like to thank, once more, those of you who sent me gifts and thoughtful cards (mainly gifts). For those of you who did not, and…