I never got around to trying the Paleo Diet. I’ve been focused on savory crusts this winter and I’ve just learned I can order Atora Suet online. Anyway if it’s true Pete Evans is trying to use the Paleo Diet to kill babies, I’m not sure it sounds as appealing even as a complement to my intended boulder-rolling regimen. Unless… could Pete Evans’ Paleo-baby cookbook have been an Onion news story mistakenly picked up by the major outlets and the joke is on me, like the one about certain states legalizing powdered alcohol? Either way, if you’re still running Moveable Feast, PBS, I’m interested in any hosting jobs that may be opening up*.

Maybe my problem with Pete Evans is that I’ve never really wanted anyone to make me a carrot salad, though Zatinya might have a pretty good one—do they? I always fill up on fava beans. Nevertheless Mike Isabella was responsible for the seminal taste of my DC girls’ weekend—indirectly(!) by way of the earthy Countryman Pizza at Graffiato, which I added to our order at the last minute, grazie a Dio, because they never brought us our gnocchi. I wouldn’t say this was a throwaway reservation (Saturdays are for Mintwood Place, which is our new Rasika), but on Friday night there’s always the chance someone will be stuck in traffic on 95 till eleven o’clock, and we’ll end up having minibar tequila and Mauna Loa nuts for dinner. So Graffiato had been on my DC list on the strength of Zatinya and the novelty of prosecco on tap. Since I know I will want to recreate it, I’ve searched for mentions of the Countryman pizza online, and I wouldn’t say it’s been appropriately raved about, but I suppose it’s too subtle for a lot of people. It has, though, been adequately described, so I’ll just say it has a soft cooked egg on it, and like the one on the Gus Burger, it is just the right addition.

*And even if it does exist, I promise not to use powdered alcohol, however creatively, until at least halfway through taping.