Feb 12, 2000

Recovering from flu contracted from those damn Britons, ever the colonialists, even if reduced to spreading foul viruses. Picked up several books, as well as a foul lergy, in their tempting book shops: one a foodie paradise ("How to Eat") written by the gorgeous Nigella Lawson, food editor of British Vogue and one called "C, Because Cowards Get Cancer Too" (don't be repulsed by the title) by John Diamond. It turns out the two of them are married, which I manage to ascertain after some delirium induced detective work. How charming. Both their books lie intertwined with my heaped bed clothes. I feel compelled to write them a fan letter. With a fever of 103 I'm chanelling them: been to their annual summer party in their back garden and even given Nigella a couple of recipes (recipe exchange is a sublime form of intra-girl flirtation). You don't give your recipes to just any old cunt. So here I am with the Anglo-flu and some sort of Anglo-mania and 400 chocolate truffles to make for St. Valentine's Day at the restaurant. Perhaps my mother's misgivings were justified.
- rachael 5-10-2000 4:42 pm