Maurice Naughton

You ought to see the recent Dallas location of the Italian restaurant Nove (from the N9NE Steak House crew). Gives a whole new meaning to "sculpture garden." Scott Lordy, is that ugly or what? Makes chia pets look good.

In the memorable words of Julia A. Moore, "The Sweet Singer of Michigan," upon whom Mark Twain modeled his Emmeline Grangerford character, "Literary is very hard to do."

A Paris miscellany. The skateboard crew at the Bastille At a station of the metro My courtyard door at 22, rue du Petit Mucc Obeisance at the d"Orsay The copiest Looking

Averatec makes some good lightweight machines, usually available at really excellent prices.

A recipe from a French fishmonger's wife has a certain eneffible charm, which I was trying to reproduce. Anyway, I called her to ask, and she said, "Pustule! Putain! Putois! . . ." There were other words beginning with "P," but she was hanging up at the time, and I didn't write them down. Anyhow, thank's for your interest.

At the fishmonger's nearby, the guy's wife gave me this shad recipe, which I have translated as best I can. I won't try it myself 'cause I'm alone and it's too much. Oven Roasted Shad with roe Choose a beautiful whole shad of approximately four-and-and-a-half pounds. Remove the scales and reserve the eggs (My fish-person will do this. Yours probably will too). Chop the following finely to make a stuffing: - the shad roe - 6 ounces of dry ham (prosciutto, serrano, Bayonne, etc.) - 4 to 5 beautiful shallots - 1 whole egg - 2 or 3 cloves of garlic - salt and pepper Mo

It's comforting to know you wear clean shirts to dinner. Who's Paul Stuart?

Wow! What a dandy tip! Is it foolproof?

What a sweetness! But I'm in Paris and it would be very impractical. :durable and heartfelt thanks:

Jeez, Omni, what an appetite! I just had some Patte d'Ours. Mixed cow's milk and ewe's milk from the Béarn. It's an uncooked, pressed cheese with a smooth soft, sticky pâte. Delicioso. Quattrehomme suggests it as dessert with some black-cherry preserve. Haven't done that yet.

Annie Oakley, Alfred Hitchcock, Don Ho, Fidel Alejandro Castro Ruz, Madhur Jaffrey

This whole recent patch on LA seems pretty insular and remarkably inbred.

Oh for heaven's sake. Fried fish can't possibly be bad for you. It's not like anyone eats more than a handful. This is how it starts, you know. You get rid of all the good "little sin" foods and next thing you know you are bingeing on a giant bag of fritos at 2am because everything you've eaten all day is so completetly tasteless and dull. I'm so ashamed. I know I missed the entire point of this thread. The moment I became aware of my blind inadequacy to get with the program, I posted again. I said, "Forget it." I beg you to forgive me. Every year of so I eat a can of Spam. And ever

No entire state can be called the worst place. Every state has something to offer. West Virginia, for example, has Wierton.

2005 Côte du Ventoux, Domaine des Anges

I've no more unread books, and for the past five days I've been laid low by a mysterious malaise that has left me mainly confined to bed except for the times when the boredom of it drove me across the room to participate in the nonsense posted on this site. Or to verify once more that what goes down must sometimes come back up. Luckily, I live in a really tiny apartment.

I'm sure that Sr. Honorius, while she burns in hell for her ineradicable attempts to ruin the lives of ten-year-olds, will be sorely disappointed. (So, do I drink it?)

Oh, but Maurice, he lives in southwest Florida close to the Everglades, that bug infested swamp. Ah, you confused me by saying his hometown is Kansas City.

Sister Honorius told me that my soul bore the ineradicable stain of original sin. I stopped worrying about it and started smoking. (I quit by the time I was thirty.)

Yeah. But Butcher is smart enough to live in Kansas City.

You mean there's a second kind of social lubricant?

My, you are new, aren't you? Well, welcome anyway.

Oh, yeah. Some are assholes. Unfortunately, none of them knows it.

I once spent ten days in Naples. Loved it. Particularly the Isle of Capri and the Blue Grotto. I lived for a while on the sand in Panama Beach. That's not Florida, of course. It's the redneck riviera of southern Alabama, where they have odd ideas about iced tea (among other things, they write "sweet ice tea") and you can get good crab claws and fried okra. The best part is Spring Break, when many wonderful things become available. Nevertheless, I don't think I'll go to Florida again.

Chile powder? How do you grind up a country?