Do the Charleston Chew.

I'm just back from Charleston, a town with an accomplished, tight-knit culinary community. And far too many fine restaurants to cover in a four-day trip.

Though the thermostat was pushing 100 degrees, I tucked into summer's bounty on every plate: butter beans, sweet corn, tomatoes, cantaloupe and peaches.

I had terrific meals at Fish, O-Ku, Amen Street, Dixie Supply Bakery & Cafe, Oak Steakhouse and Caviar & Bananas, but my favorite meal was on John's Island at The Fat Hen, where Chef Fred Neuville coaxes the best out of seasonal produce and local seafood.

His oysters sauteed with country ham and wild mushrooms served over grilled bread are, in a word, life-affirming.

http://www.thefathen.com/.

Lifting the Tortilla Curtain.

I believe books have a "time," or perhaps we have a time to read books.

In light of Arizona's recent anti-immigration legislation, I picked up a copy of T.C. Boyle's The Tortilla Curtain.

It's a book I've tried to read on more than one occasion. Now, I can't put it down. It has as much--if not more--resonance--than when it was written in 1995.

The story is immediately absorbing and the writing itself is dynamic:

The man was Mexican, Hispanic, that's what he was, and he was speaking Spanish, a hot crazed drumroll of a language to which Delaney's four years of high-school French gave him little access.

Why Buy?

So, there I was: weighing the relative merits of two types of Tupperware (I mean that generically; neither was actually Tupperware). One was the right size and price, but unattractive. The other was the wrong size and more expensive, with an unexpected heft that felt good in my hands.

I bought the latter.

According to Lee Eisenberg, author of Shoptimism:Why the American Consumer Will Keep on Buying No Matter What, I am a "romantic buyer," instinctively drawn to the unexpected, to "thingness."

In other words, I have an aesthetic imperative that cannot be denied.

Yep, I thought: that's me.

I bought a marvelous-looking robin egg blue lemon reamer a few weeks ago. Even though I already own a perfectly serviceable, though plain-looking, wooden one.

I'm a sucker for looks.

Eisenberg says of this about collecting and collectors: It may not be the most direct means of healing wounds but it serves well enough.

Thought-provoking stuff to someone who has loved collecting since she was a kid. And who has several collections on display as an adult.

He also defines "buy scolds" and "buy polars." Turns out you either are one or you know one.

Regardless of what you buy or what you sell, this is fascinating reading.

http://www.amazon.com/Shoptimism-American-Consumer-Buying-Matter/dp/0743296257/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1276057705&sr=8-1-catcorr.

Fly With Your Mind.

I've spent a mellow Sunday morning sampling and buying music online.

Some writers work with music in the background. I don't. I need silence to write.

But, oh, how lush it is to surrender to music. To concentrate on the harmonies and vocals. And not while driving car or folding the clothes or paying bills.

Though I'm office-bound, music lets me fly with my mind.

How True is This?

Sometimes in the unluck, there is luck.

Meat-ing Place.

Carnivores, how irrestible is this blog: http://yourmeattooth.com?

Seeing is Believing.

I've been fortunate to travel all over the world, both as a Navy brat and as a travel writer.

Which means, like everyone, I've stayed in some rooms that weren't...well, let's just say as advertised. Rooms with views of an alley. Or the AC equipment on the roof. Or an overflowing dumpster. Or the run-down building next door.

Which is why I was happy to stumble upon this website, where guests photograph rooms with stunningly unretouched views.

See for yourself: http://roomswithgreatviews.com.