Cecil Beaton once got angry at the mediocrity of his dinner. When he was asked why he got so upset about it, he responded with something like this (and I’m paraphrasing here, “There are only 365 dinners in a year, and I don’t want to waste one having a bad meal”. I haven’t been able to get that out of my head ever since. Especially last night, when I made a vodka sauce pasta and was completely let down by it. The sauce was tasteless. No amount of salt or parmesan or additional tomatoes could fix that sauce.
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