A salty, fragrant Gorgonzola is my saving grace after a long day at the office. If ever you need to find me on a weeknight, look no further than my kitchen counter: I’ll be leaning against it, shoes kicked off, hat, tie, and jacket strewn across the floor, glass of wine in one hand, bottle in the other (usually a white from Santa Barbara or a red from Mendoza if it’s cold out).
You’ll watch in horror as I greedily hunk off morsels of cheese with my hands, eyes glazed over, as a no-cook, no-pan, no-wok, no-bowl, zero-second (!) starter while making myself something more substantial to eat, like tacos, risotto, or spaghetti alla carbonara. But more often than I care to admit, I’ll find that I’ve finished the entire bottle (and the cheese) while my main meal still cooks, falling into a deep, salty stupor while reading the paper in my favorite chair, one patterned with adorable rainbow-colored chickens...
