. . .and the sun sets, and I draw the curtains, and every now and again passes the lonely sound of a car heading down the empty street. And what I have to show as the weekend wraps itself up with a ribbon, is a pink silk clutch purse full of candy wrappers.

The moment I walked in Schmio’s door Friday night, at midnight no less, she served me up a plate of homemade chocolate mousse. Oh, thank you! Now that’s hospitality. What else is hospitality is having me and McC. lounge about till a quarter to four before saying anything about anyone maybe going home to bed. Hospitality was also the spread at India’s Saturday night, oh my god: avocado salad, a beaut enamel dish of gorgeous yellow polenta, this incredible Portuguese stewy thing, these filo pastry things, a green garlicy thing that was so green and so garlicy. . . my word, but this post is descending into inarticulate salivating. Oh, but wait, and, there were also, um, hello, two kinds of cake. Gulp, gulp, yum.