I dream about having the perfect pantry. One that produces, as if by magic, exactly the right ingredient when I need it. Walnut oil, say, or canned escargots. Clam juice, hearts of palm, Picholine olives. That je ne sais quoi needed to finish a dish, add an unexpected touch, make a dish genius instead of just good.
And then I make something simple for dinner, with every ingredient on hand, and