I can usually eat something without telling the world about it, but tonight I made a grilled marinated Porterhouse steak with an heirloom tomato salad, followed by fresh-picked ripe strawberries and ice cream. All served up on the porch on a perfect evening.

But that's not what I actually intended to post about today. Lately I've been reading Dumas on Food, an English translation/abridgement of Alexander Dumas's Grand Dictionaire de Cuisine.

The entry on "Cavaillon Melon" includes the following passage, which I commend to all my fellow authors:

"One day I received a letter from the municipal council of Cavaillon which informed me that they were establishing a library and were desirous of securing for it the best books which they possibly could. They therefore begged me to send them those two or three of my novels which to my mind were the best. Now, I have a daughter and a son, whom I think I love equally; and I am the author of five or six hundred volumes and belive myself to be just about equally fond of them all. So I replied to the town of Cavaillon that it was not for an author to judge the merits of his books, that I thought all my books good, but that I found Cavaillon melons excellent; and that I consequently proposed to send to the town of Cavaillon a complete set of my works . . . if the municipal council would be willing to vote me a life annuity of twelve green melons."

"The municipal council of Cavaillon . . . replied by return of post that my request had been unanimously endorsed, and that I would certainly receive my life annuity, which in all likelihood is the only one that I will ever have."

While I don't have an oeuvre of six hundred volumes, and so probably can't parlay a set of my books into a lifetime supply of anything, I think I could manage a one-to-one swap. If you like science fiction or roleplaying games, and have a Zamponi sausage or some chanterelles, contact me.