I am highly impressionable. Yesterday morning my husband suggested my wet hair maked me look “drab”. I will never show the world my wet hair again. Last night after dinner and wine, he said entirely out of the blue (my hair was up) “you know…you are looking beautiful this evening.” I memorized my hips to the side, shoulders forward position that I happened to be sitting in at the dinner table. It is going to be hard to find me sitting differently from here on in. This morning, the NYT featured melted cheese. Now I can’t think about anything else. They covered every angle and many countries. I have decided fonduta is going on the appetizer menu of my springtime classes. I had all intentions of making lentils with a soffritto of caramelized carrot, celery and onion for dinner, with nothing more than wilted greens and garlic on the side, but now of course, I can’t imagine a dinner without cheese. I am going to add whole heads of oven roasted garlic, tucked into an oil coated, oven proof dish with bay leaves, thyme, rosemary and lemon peel, drizzled with the best olive oil, covered and baked in a slow oven until they collapse under a fork, then smash them onto grilled croutons with a side of a good, soft, off the charts with the fat, goat cheese made even smoother with a spill of heavy warm cream, and on the side, just to remind you that crunchy things exist and are appealing, a little salad of chopped endive with a mustard vinaigrette. With dry hair, hips at an angle and shoulders straight ahead.