During my first job as a reporter in D.C., I remember calling up a source once and saying: “Are you sure you have time to talk to me now? It’s Friday afternoon.” To which he replied with not a little self-importance: “It’s Friday in Washington.” Over the years, I have lived through many, many of these Fridays in Washington, when offices rush to meet weekly deadlines and announcements are delivered at the end of the day to an unsuspecting public. It was dark when I got home tonight and Viet had heated up the frozen meatballs we got at Ikea, which I enjoyed with lingonberry jam.
(Photo: Casa Batlló, Barcelona.)
365 Days of Food 