I ordered a cookbook that I coveted from Amazon, but I elected to purchase a used book for one third the cost of new. It arrived in the mail just now and brought with it the sweet lovely smell of an Italian kitchen. When I thumbed through the pages, it fell open to precisely the recipe that instigated my purchase, having been referred to in a delightful memoir that I just finished about one man’s journey through the world in search of the perfect loaf of bread. The pages are coated with flour and there are coffee stains on the edges.

There was a list, in my head, of things that I would accomplish today, but it has just been thoughtlessly cast aside for the following to do list–1. Fresh pot of coffee. 2. Warm snuggle blanket. 3. The Italian Baker by Carol Field, cover to cover. Possibly the most delicious afternoon ever.