When last weekend's dinner was cancelled, I had already assembled all the ingredients for a five-course meal in my kitchen. That was Saturday. As the week wore on, I kept telling myself that one night I would get home in time to do something with all that food, and could still put it to good use. But a series of late nights chipped away at my designs, so that where I once still hoped to assemble a cassoulet, by Wednesday I could only hope that there might be a cut of meat left in my fridge that hadn't turned so far that a good long braise wouldn't salvage it. And of course, by then, I was well in my cups.

This morning I tossed about five pounds of rancid meats and a bushel of withered vegetables into the trash. Not having been in my kitchen for a week, there was already a ripe bag of refuse waiting for me. I faced some of the most horrible smells I've ever encountered today.

But it's a beautiful day here in New York. The air is clear and crisp, the sun is bright, and on top of all that, it's Friday. Tonight I'm leaving a hellish week behind and going up to Rhinebeck to spend a weekend in the country with Lisa. We'll head to our favorite local trattoria for dinner, split a big bottle of Montepulciano d'Abruzzo, and sleep until noon. On my way to work this morning, I was whistling Take Five. Today is going to be a fantastic day.