Portland, Oregon, May 19, 2012—
THERE ARE FEW greater pleasures, perhaps none, than sitting at the dinner table with all the children and grandchildren and now, even, the great-granddaughter. Well, tonight not quite all; the boy was missing, and his wife and three children. But you can't have all of them every time; I'm not really complaining. There were a dozen of us at the table, and we celebrated with an aïoli. Eric made the titular sauce, with lots of garlic; Pavel grilled the meat; Thérèse fixed the vegetables; we all sat around, swapped stories, dandled the baby, and generally had a truly fine time.Nero bastardo, among other things…
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