fat and happy
I'll let Catherine fill you in on all of the details, but right now she's napping: we just got back from a cooking class at Galileo. Between the two of us that's about 9 hours and 3 bottles of wine. Chef Roberto Donna does these classes focusing on a theme -- today's was pasta. We made yards and yards, then ate it and staggered home. You can look forward to wildly optimistic posts about future homemade pasta odysseys, promptly followed by oddly brief or entirely nonexistent updates brimming with unspoken recriminations.
Aside from that inevitable unpleasantness, I highly recommend the experience. You know those celebrity fantasy basketball camps that rich middle aged guys go to, at which they jockey with one another to receive compliments from Michael Jordan (or whoever) like "nice bounce pass!" and other phrases not ending with the word "jerk"? It was like that.
Did you roll that gnocchi yourself? Very impressive! The way you almost knocked over your wine but didn't? You looked like a pro! And I couldn't help but notice that you failed to burn yourself. You know, I've been looking for someone to head up the kitchen at our new location...
Yeah, I lapped it up.
