A. Never cook naked.
A. Paris for buzz, maybe Telluride for peace. Or Santa Fe. Oh, and Prince Edward Island. In the summer.
A. I talk about books. I lead a book group at the local library and teach literature courses. Oh, and I play the piano. Ravel, mostly. And Bach.
A. Writing--which means I'm happy a lot. Perfect? I don't know. But happy as in contented? You bet. I don't understand the Hollywood myth about the tortured writer. When I get a cup of tea and sit down at my desk, looking out at the New England woods beyond but also facing that blank screen on my computer, I'm as happy as I ever am. It also doesn't hurt to have a collie sleeping nearby. Or the person you love making lunch in the kitchen.
A. Can't. Food writer, after all. If I had to eat only one thing, there would be no "rest of your days."