The age of isolation

I rode a Citi Bike to and fro Whole Foods yesterday morning, 7:30 a.m.-ish. It was a mistake. By the time I made it back home and up the four flights of stairs to my apartment with my many bags o' foodstuffs, I was sweating with real alacrity. I hopped into the shower with all my clothes on and then I reclined on the sofa whilst watching the Olympics for the rest of the day. Why exert when others are willing to do it for me for glory and precious medallions, is my new summertime policy. Per Robert Frost, the best way out is always through. SarahB did join me @ lunchtime so I was the social butterfly kind of shut-in. I do it for the people! And the air conditioning. 

This is from Laurie Colwin's Home Cooking, which is a beautiful book and a wonderful, empathetic summertime read, although of course it's too hot to cook anything. Don't be insane.

The pudding was brought to the table. My host and hostess, my future husband and a woman guest looked at it suspiciously. I cut the pudding. As Jane Grigson had promised, out ran a lemon-scented buttery toffee. I sliced up the lemon, which was soft and buttery too. Each person was to get some crust, a slice of lemon and some sauce.

What a hit! I thought. Exactly the sort of thing I adored. I looked around me happily, and my happiness turned to ash.

My host said: "This tastes like lemon-flavored bacon fat."

"I'm sure it's wonderful," said my hostesss. "I mean, in England."

The woman guest said: "This is awful."

Be whole and generous with your mistakes, is what's she's saying, which is always welcome news.