I’m about a month behind on my New Yorker reading (when am I not?). This morning, during an unusual 30-minute window of quiet, I read Adam Gopnik’s article on dessert, which appeared in the January 3 issue. It’s a great piece of food writing, and an interesting meditation on art-making. Gopnik bookends the piece with his attempts to recreate his mother’s apricot souffle. And he ends on an inspiring note that could be applied to novel writing:
Ferran’s question still counts: How do we finish the meal? But then how do we finish anything? At least I know now that if we beat hard enough, and long enough, and do both more than we ever thought we would have to, we might yet arrive at a lighter end.