AUSTIN, Texas, June 12, 2005 — There is a certain structure to Sunday. One that we don't often play out but that we have in our heads as a kind of talisman for Sunday. Things that are included are sleeping late, taking a walk with the dog, having coffee and snacks in a typical Austin place, reading the big fat papers (only The Austin American-Statesman is not fat when the ads are removed).

This Sunday sort of clung to that tradition. We were up late so it was eightish when we got up. We were just lazy. I had coffee, stripped the ads out of the Statesman, FFP read some of the

papers. I worked on finishing up yesterday's journal. We were both in workout shorts when we decided to take a walk to Upper Crust bakery. We changed to jeans and got Chalow's reel leash and off we went. I took the new digitatl camera and shot pictures of a few things in the neighborhood as a test. At the Crust we sat outside. We saw someone we knew going in but no one else was sitting outside where a noisy crew was digging up 45th Street one more time. We had to sit out there, of course, because of Chalow. FFP went in and out getting Texas Croissants and a cookie and coffee and a refill.

When we got back from the walk, I finished my journal for yesterday and started on today's. It was about noon and I had to decide how to spend the time between now and going out for an early dinner with friends. Should I go to the gym? Read the papers? Watch some videos? Work on my trip plans?

We know how that goes. I decided to read the papers and drink some coffee. I saw the end of an old (well, 1996) flick with Leonardo DiCaprio doing Romeo. Never saw that one. Then a Harry Potter one kicked off. Then I decided to wander off and talk to FFP and try to find something in our cellar to open and try this evening. I settled on a few bottles. A 1995 Burgundy (Vosne Romanee), a 1996 Caymus Conundrum, a 1991 Silver Oak Cabernet, and a 1994 Leoville Barton. Not that we would (with six people) drink four bottles. Actually we might. That's twenty-four glasses or four each. I just figured we would pick and choose and that maybe one wouldn't be good. None of these are wildly expensive bottles (to start with or now) but they are possibly good ones and may have benefited from the cellar. Or not.

The meal. When we get to Zoot, we think we are early and we can get some bottles open but actually all four of our companions are already there, seated at the six top up front that I really like. No one else is at the restaurant yet. The couple from Houston brought us a present. They are bon vivants. Well, especially the guy. And such an articulate bon vivant. I worked with him at my old job. The other couple are old friends. I worked very, very closely with the guy in my old work days, back in the dusty reaches before my retirement. Back when I wrote vaguely in this journal about work in hopes of avoiding getting fired or sued and when I didn't promote the journal either, in hopes that people I met in a business capacity wouldn't find themselves there, reflected in a unfavorable light, I saw lots of people at work, kept up with them. People who'd moved on or retired I tried to lunch with. Lunches seemed easier then.

We don't usually go out for a meal like this on Sunday. But it is the kind of meal I enjoy. I pick the tasting menu with four chef-chosen courses and a dessert. I get them to open the Caymus Conundrum and the Burgundy. They are both good. My first course is a Hudson Valley foie gras tourchon with brioche and grapefruit marmalade. I prefer seared foie gras but the tiny chilled rounds of concentrated liver are delicious with the preparation. We get them to open the Bordeaux (Leoville Barton). My next course is a Bluebonnet Farm greens salad with cherry tomatoes, daikon and red bell pepper viniagrette. A delcious pan roasted escolar (a Pacific fish) arrives on saffron tagliatelle with summer vegetbales and a fines herbes sauce. It is outstanding. All the portions are small, I reiterate. While I'm eating the tamarind glazed rack of lamb (the portion is only one rib) on tabbouleh with spinach and curry I am heard to utter 'this is the best lamb I ever had.' It was. Somewhere there we opened the Silver Oak.

A 1990 Chateau d'Yquem appears for the dessert course. My bon vivant friend has outdone himself in contributing this bottle. I have a creme caramal. The Sauterne of all Sauternes is delicious. This 1990 one somewhere in between the younger sauternes and those gone to that golden elixir home beyond wine. It is lovely.

All through the food and wine we talk about places and pleasures. My buddy from Houston is this storehouse of knowledge about wine, spirits, food, shaving brushes, places he's traveled and many finer things. He researches and remembers the best of things. And he also bowls and plays golf and has a pacemaker. I tell him that he should write a column for Esquire or something. He says that he can't write. We part. A thoroughly pleasant evening spent in the company of people I've shared a lot with. Hearing how their life is going in a different company from the one where we met. Gossiping about our other mates in the business. Not a typical Sunday thing.

At home we watch the UT baseball game until the recorder abruptly stops. (Note to self: always set the next time segment up to record as well.) FFP goes to the Internet to see how it came out. I continue reading and soon we go to bed.