A passage from a book I just read, by Mimi Sheraton, a life-long food writer and former NYTimes restaurant critic:

"My ability to identify what i was eating reached its peak one evening when I was reviewing the Japanese noodle soup reataurant Omen in New York's SoHo. We were six altogether, Dick and I with Marc and another couple with their daughter. We shared a number of small dishes before trying the soups and because the two teenagers were ravenous, offerings on the tiny plates disappeared faster than you could say sayonara. Still hungry, I spotted what looked like shaved white diakon radish in soy sauces. Reaching over with chopsticks, I snared the mound and began to eat it when I noticed something strange. 'This tastes like paper soaked in soy sauce,' I announced. Looking up, Dick said, 'You are eating my napkin!'"

In other news, my car is finally unstuck.