I just ate a really good black plum. Every year there comes a day when I ask myself, Do I like plums? And I buy a few. And I do. You know how with stone fruit (apples and pears too), one side is often sweeter? Is that the sunny side or the lee?
Lying in bed the other night, I realized why you order your eggs "over easy" or "over medium." It's because they're flipped over, as opposed to sunny side up. Seriously, no one ever explained this to me. In any case, I've decided I don't care much for fried eggs (unless they're in a sandwich, which genre is no longer on my menu); I prefer poached in almost every instance. You can't eat them with your hands, but they're so much gooier and eggier.
SOTD: Guerlain Rose Barbare on my right arm, Sonoma Scent Studio Jour Ensolleile on my left. (Reviews of both forthcoming in my next column.) On my upper left, I can still smell the remnants of a spray of Hanae Mori from last night.
For dinner tonight, speaking of eggs: This weird thing. Doesn't that look good?