Aw Geez—Not Ruth Reichl…

Last week I started a little game. I asked Lull readers to invite a guest—living or dead, famous or not—to a dinner. The responses have been trickling in and, so far, assure us of an interesting evening of conversation.

However, someone just added Ruth Reichl to the festivities and now I’m anxious. Now I actually have to cook something fabulous.

Yes yes yes: I understand this is only an imaginary construct, but my anxiety knows no bounds. I am NOT a cook.

Did you see the film Toast based on food writer Nigel Slater’s memoir? I’m like his mother who’s so nervous of getting a recipe wrong that, of course, she gets the recipe wrong. Whenever dinner didn’t go as planned/hoped, Mrs. Slater served toast, which her family came to rely on and expect for sustenance.

As the cartoon above notes: “In the kitchen, I’m more of an aggregator than a content creator.” However, I don’t think my superior aggregating skills will pass muster with Ms. Reichl or the Lull reader who suggested her. I must put on a better show.

Sigh. What to do? I suppose I will have to take my cue from Mrs. Slater: If all else fails, make toast.

[Art by Ward Sutton for the New Yorker.]