Then the phone rang, an e-mail message came, the phone rang again, and the loneliness, for the moment, shrank back into a dirty corner of my skull and disappeared.
So I made breakfast.
Years ago, I wrote the owner of Murray's Cheese Shop in NYC to ask him why they didn't sell fresh ricotta on the internet. It was a stupid question -- fresh ricotta is this sort of goopy sweet-ish cheese (it actually tastes like -- get this -- milk, just elevated) that only lasts a day or two and can't possibly ship well. The guy answered me immediately anyway.
"b/c nobody knows what to do with it," came the reply.
One thing to do with it is to give a slice of ciabatta (a nice farm bread would be even better) a good toasting, spread it thick with the cheese, then sprinkle with salt, drizzle with good, strong olive oil and throw some chopped lemon zest on top. Since I'm not even back taking brivanib yet after the chest tube, I also showered the whole thing with ground pepper. Rebellion!
It was delicious. Sweet, hot, cool, savory, salty, creamy: medicine for this lump in my throat that won't go away.
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