Fresh Tart

Ahhhh, it's good to be home, as usual. We had a great time yesterday, hanging with Jon & Amy Brown, showing them all around the Hamptons, sitting on Georgica Beach, wrapping up with a romantic dinner (for their anniversary!) at The American Hotel in Sag Harbor. Man did I laugh yesterday, seriously, my stomach was aching. Hard to beat hanging out with hilarious people in a gorgeous spot. And oh, throw in some killer eats to boot. Right on!

Today, smooth trip home, minimal head-bobbing as I slept on the plane (thanks to a window seat), no wait for our bags because suddenly no one checks luggage (per-bag fees, ouch), home before rush hour. All good.

Except what to do for dinner? Obviously no groceries, and truly no motivation to shop, I dug in the freezer and discovered...Trader Joe's puff pastry. I glanced at the still-lovely tomatoes on my counter and thought...must use. I poked around in the fridge and found...fresh goat cheese. OK, with some herbs from the deck, and a drizzle of olive oil, we had the ingredients for a pretty sa-weettomato tart, so...that's what we had.

Twenty minutes later, voila, good stuff, especially alongside some softly scrambled eggs.

And now, we are goners. I'm not even half unpacked and I just don't care. As long as I can wash my face and brush my teeth, climb into some clean pajamas and find my bed, I'm all set. Good sleeping weather here in Minnesota, cool and dry - crank those windows open and have yourselves a good night. Baby.

Moderate it: man, we had an interesting - and perfectly gross - lunch at LaGuardia airport today. We arrived hungry, opted for the Burger King just past security in the Northwest terminal, scoped out the calorie counts posted next to each item (welcome to NY!), and sat down at a dirty table to eat bad food. Instant moderation, thank you very much. Blech.

Hello from East Hampton! We're having a lovely vacation with my in-laws (Dot & John) this week, away from the rain and gloom in Minnesota. The drought is officially over, eh? Sheesh. It was raining here, too, when we arrived (on Tuesday). But the sun peeked through last evening and is shining still (at least this morning), so we're all good, baby. Georgica Beach, here we come!

Grabbing some exercise here is a truly lovely experience - walking the mean streets (ha) of EH. The streets are grand tunnels of dappled tree-lined shade, peaceful and quiet and in full August bloom - basket-ball-sized hydrangeas, hydrangeas everywhere, blue and peaches-n-cream and pale green and pink and purple. Stunning. The houses - well, you could probably guess that in "The Hamptons," the houses do not suck. Variations on a serene, cedar-shingled, white-trimmed theme. Mostly big (real big), some small and cottage-y, all chic beachy. Very Not Minnesota. Fabulous.

We don't do the (famous) party scene here at all. We (happily, quietly) eat in every night, although I don't do any cooking (my father-in-law does!), I just sit back and eat all the beautiful things that are served to me - yeah, it rawks, yay for vacation and a big, BIG woo hoo for foodie in-laws! Some of the best fresh produce in the world - sweet corn, peaches, melons, tomatoes - is grown right here (it is truly rural out here) and it is glorious. Glorious! Little white peaches, three bites each, I could eat those babies all day long. The last bites of summer, I fear. Sigh.

So, I'm off for one of those walks. Gotta move my arse around a bit to earn the right to my evening meals and wine. So far I've enjoyed crab cakes, sweet corn, crispy chicken, brisket, tomato salad... Tonight, a cookout of burgers and Atlantic Golf Club 'dogs. Tomorrow, tenderloin on the grill and more corn, corn, corn. NICE!