Picnic in the Slow Lane

10.18.06

I ran into Alice Waters at Chez Panisse the other night, and she told me about driving home from Telluride with her daughter, Fanny. Neither could bring themselves to stop at the interstate greasy spoons on the way back to Berkeley, so they bought a burner and a pot at the local hardware store and stopped by a farmers’ market for pasta, bread, and loads of vegetables to fill up the backseat. Following the back roads, they’d stop at a stream to get water and, as soon as they found a park or scenic spot, pull over and to whip up a simple pasta or piperade before heading off again.

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