Sick, Sicker, Dying, Dead

Damn it all to hell, I'm sick again. Or perhaps should I say, I'm still sick. I knew it was coming on yesterday, when I spent most of the day sweating my way through the Flatiron district. I had a client meeting that went really well, but I just couldn't find any energy to enjoy it. It was just hot, and sticky and uncomfortable, and my nose is stuffy so I can't breathe, and my chest hurts from coughing, and I'm dizzy from being congested, and generally miserable.

So I stayed home from work today and slept til 11AM. I thought about going in, but there wasn't anything I couldn't handle on email, so I worked from home.

Unfortunately, I had made a commitment to help out some friends at their Shabbat service tonight - and unable to find a sub, I went, sat in the back row, and was alternately chilled and sweating and coughing and sniffling, mostly unable to follow along and not really aware of my surroundings. Thankfully, it was a short service, so I got the song sung and got the hell out of Dodge. I'm sure I sounded like a wino attempting the Springsteen catalog after a tough night, but it's over, and now I can sleep.

Since I'm not sure I am going to do any posting this weekend - seriously! I need to rest! - I leave you with this troubling exchange over the subject of POTATO SALAD between a food blogger and the "publicity manager" for America's Test Kitchen, which was, up until I read this blog post, one of my favorite cooking shows. Being in the PR biz, I can't comprehend even participating in an email exchange like this, telling people that they can't post a recipe with their own modifications because theirs is Just So Perfect. I don't think you can legally copyright a list of ingredients, either. My agent, the master of all food-related/recipe knowledge, would know. I will ask her next time we chat.

Besides, is there any such thing as a "perfect" recipe? Generations of cooks in my own family, all of whom have modified our classic Sunday gravy over the years (my own addition is grated carrot, sauteed in butter to caramelize the sugars) would beg to differ.

Shabbat shalom, mes chers amis.