Thursday

It's the simple things in life.

Yes, and I can tell you that I have never been so thrilled over what is basically a ham and cheese sandwich as I was last night with the most delicious croque monsieur in the whole universe. As I was carefully cutting it with a knife and fork, and slowly savoring each bite, I solemnly said to Joe, "I would like a croque monsieur and pomme frites to be my last meal."

I saved half. It will never be as good heated up in the oven, but even if it is half as good, I will be a happy camper.

I love the feeling of being just knocked on my ass by how good something is. Like you almost couldn't even believe pleasure like that still existed in the world. Kind of like Monday night when I was driving to my lesson and listened to Rachmaninoff's Vespers for the first (gasp!) time in my life. Pure heaven, and especially the recording I had with the Robert Shaw singers. And this year, because of Joe, I came to know and begin to understand the last piano sonata of Beethoven, Op. 111-- another shockingly good and satisfying musical event. As a foodie and a musician, I feel like I am lucky because there is always something new to taste and something new to hear, and even in old familiar recipes and pieces, you find new things sometimes, or hear or taste it in a new way that just gives you the chills.