Favorite books? Really? Isn't that like choosing a favorite child?
(Seems so wrong, doesn't it? Yet, admit it. Deep down . . .) I try
to re-read Moby Dick every year or so.
Because I edit books for a living, I don't do movies well. Stories
take time to unfold. A rockin' soundtrack does not equal a good
movie. (Frankly, the same can be said for cooking with
Music = jazz. Mostly. Although, listening to Beethoven's sixth the
other day drove me to distraction. I was a heavy metal kid in high
school, have been laid flat by the blues, have flirted with new
country. I absolutely do not understand pop.
Food = anything that isn't moving on the plate. Sushi. A martini
and raw oysters. A steak (rare, please). Fried in butter, no;
sauteed with a little extra-virgin olive oil, absolutely. I'm
philosophically undecided about organic. On the one hand, I'm all
for it. But let's be honest--What did they DO to that organic
asparagus to get it to me? Did they nestle it against the breast of
a virgin and sing to it? Or did they perhaps wrap it in god knows
what and bathe it in truck exhaust? Just sayin'.