When I read "Portnoy's Complaint" I smiled and chuckled a bit. My husband, on the other hand, laughed so hard he literally fell out of bed!
Philip Roth came to dinner - to discuss a film project, I suppose - and, to fill out the foursome, Ron invited the beautiful Tina Louise. The conversation was non-stop and hilarious but barely included the women. The men decided they had the same mother and cited example after example. "You know what else she does!" And then. And then.
And, of course, she didn't believe he could write books, let alone make a living at it.
Leon Uris ("Exodus") speaker at his mother's book club, had referred to Philip as the best new writer in the country. Disbelieving, she called her son to ask if that was true.
It was a fun evening but, understandably, Tina decided to leave right after dessert.
I don't really remember what I cooked but those were the days before veal was ubiquitously off-limits.
With a mallet or heavy glass, pound slices of veal to a quarter of an inch thickness. Salt, pepper and leave at room temperature. When everything else (say rosemary potatoes, mushrooms and fresh spinach) is ready to serve, dust the scallops lightly with flour and saute briefly in a mixture of butter and olive oil. Done in no time. Flame with cognac and remove to a warm platter. Unless you happen to have veal stock, add a little chicken broth to the skillet, swirl in a couple of slices of butter. You know where it goes.