Golden for Dinner

A week or two ago, a Harvard economist, writing in the Times, urged those of us who could afford it to redo our kitchens to help get the economy moving again. Pat and I had to chuckle. We’d already started, or she had, spurred not at all by economic patriotism, but by a mature conviction that thirty years was more than enough time to gain full appreciation of the muted beauty of cornflower blue. And she’s still at it, sanding and painting and sealing and moving things there and back again. It’s how she spent the day yesterday. I manned my post in front of the iMac, preparing home-school lesson plans for seventh-grade life science. Anyway, we’d both put in a good day’s work, and it was chilly and rainy, so we decided to have Chinese delivered. We called Golden Sun, just down the road next to the east side Wal-Mart. I can’t remember the last time we had Chinese! Pat picked — mu shu pork and shrimp fried rice. And I had to have my egg rolls. When Golden Sun is on its game, there’s nothing better in Athens. And last night, Golden Sun was on its game. The aroma of those mu shu pancakes when Pat unwrapped them was out of this world. The shrimp in the shrimp fried rice was plump and pink and juicy. Everything was fresh. I put on two pounds! So now it's back to the South Beach Protein Bars as penance.

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