I thought of you tonight when we got to the cheese course. The soft goat's cheese - I mean the
cheese was soft, not the goat - called, whimsically, Poudre Puff, although made in the USA, lived up
to its 30 dollars per pound expectation. It didn't wait for tongue contact to melt; I just inhaled
it by mouth and it was gone, leaving its potent memory to be washed away with a Swiss Dole, only to
be reawakened by another tiny morsel accompanied by my freshly made rye + whatever bread. Actually,
I really did think of you and what an enlightening experience that would be for your palette, far
from the madding crowd of dietically correct nourishment.
Ruth Kazez