pretty happening day, for a sunday. adam and i went to an altogether too fancy event at tribeca’s chanterelle, a restaurant that has long been supporting the arts since the ’80s by letting artists like matthew barney and jasper johns design their menus. now, they are putting on literary salons (adam is writing a story on nyc salon culture so we got to try it out). we tasted a selection of ports—white ports from france, tawnies, rubies—ate foie gras and quail eggs (i know), and listened to some poetry MFAs read their latest works. not a bad way to spend an hour. we also learned the history of port from an energetic sommelier, which told us it was england’s brilliant idea for making wine during an age when they were warring with france for 100 years and therefore unable to access bordeaux. so they went to portugal, added some preservatives, and shipped the stuff back, resulting in the insanely alcoholic, sugary sweet syrup that we drank this afternoon. a glass of the stuff will knock you out. nothing like being wasted in a four star restaurant in the middle of the day.