Tunneling, turning, walking, sniffing, and exploring olfactory excitement, I move like this rat in a space of imaginary culinary excess. I cook things simple and easy to reproduce but I imagine recipes of Byzantine complexity and modernist aesthetic simplicity. Then I leave the ladel and pick up the laptop in order to sneak, like this rat, in some other space of hidden arcana. Other than that, I enjoy the sun when it crashes the weather-men's party uninvited. Its always a treat as good as the Torrone I got from P in Athens. Over and out for now, need to write a bit on Attaleiates' life. Cooking up the life of a historical person requires the care of a good chef.