i wanted to write you a letter to let you know you’re the most interesting cook i know. i wanted to write you a letter to tell you that when you prepared chinese chiaotzu (stuffed dumplings), french-fries and macaroni valetta last week i had heartburn in three different languages. i wanted to write you a letter to tell you, jane, that on our first morning together when you prepared pancakes three years ago and asked me to help you serve breakfast i couldn’t separate the cake from the pan. i wanted to write you a letter because it’s been three years now jane, and i just want to let you know through a letter that if as they say, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach – you have a long way to travel. but you see, jane, it’s so unfortunate that i cannot write, and you, d(iarrh)ea, jane, cannot read.