Ohhhh, one should not read Nation’s Restaurant News while one is hungry. The back page of this week’s issue pictures a larger-than-life bowl of ripe red tomato and basil with raviolini soup. [ insert visual: Homer Simpson drooling ]

You know, when I was a kid I dreamed of being a filmmaker. When I was an adolescent, I dreamed of being a rock star. Now that I’m an adult, I have been dreaming of owning my own restaurant. Something small — I would be the head chef. Actually, I’d be the only chef, and I would regularly come out to chat with my diners. I’d get to know most of them on a first-name basis. And once a year, I’d invite all my regulars to my place for a barbecue.

It’s peculiar how my dreams seem to have descended to a more easily achievable level. Almost like I’ve dumbed them down. Weird. Now I’m depressed. Oh wait, lunch is ready!