Thomas Mann wrote a short story, "Disillusionment", which is about encountering a man in the Piazza San Marco who delivers a weary monolog about his early experiencing of life through art, followed by his ultimate disapppointment when one anticipated milestone after another turns out not to have measured up to his expectation: "So this is love. And is this all there is to it?"
. . . it takes many readers a long time to discover the twist in all of Thorne's writing: he never visits the places about which he writes so beautifully and knowledgeably.
John, have your determinedly vicarious culinary travelogs been motivated by any such uneasy apprehension? [imagine emoticon depicting wry smile]