Tell me where is fancy bread?

So Tatte, my super-fine local bakery and café, has been a longtime favorite for pastries (kouign amann, croissants, orange upside-down cake, pear tart with frangipane, dark chocolate mousse cups...) and occasional festive brunches (they're best known for shakshuksa, but I'm very fond of their BLATs and their lamb hash with labneh and a poached egg on top). They've recently started doing a small set dinner menu, which I'd been meaning to try. That salmon with horseradish cream looked nice.

Faced with a fifth day of my chicken sort-of-cacciatore, warmed over, I revolted and turned to my phone. Hey presto, Caviar (which is part of Door Dash) gave me a code for 25% off on Tatte. Yay! Now I was brought up to consider delivery a shocking extravagance, but the pandemic has changed all that. None the less, I try to be canny, and stretch things over extra rice. As is my wont, I ordered two dinners, the salmon and lasagna, which were meant to do me for five or six meals, interspersed with aging fricasse.

But consternation! When the delivery guy came, there was only the salmon in the bag.

It's the wrong dinner, Gromit! And it's gone wrong!

I am impressed with Door Dash. With ten minutes before the café closed, they got a second driver over there, retrieved my lost lasagna, and issued a generous credit on my next order.

That second bag was awfully heavy. When I opened it, I found that Tatte, bless their kind hearts, had sent me a boxful of breakfast pastries—croissants, a palmier, monkey bread, poached-pear-and-almond muffins—with a charming note of apology.

My dish crumbleth over.

Nine

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