Andrea and I went to the pink door for dinner on Friday. This is that restaurant in post alley that has no sign, just a pink door. The atmosphere–largely provided by a belly-dancing troupe–did not disappoint and the food was decent (though I think Brad’s still kicks its butt imho). Farmer’s market’s winding down, but now’s the perfect time to get Asian pears before they start to taste like brandy. I might have to pick up a case next week. Alas, with all these last-of-the-season cookouts going on, I did not cook that much this weekend, but I did make some salsa verde for Ci’s rooftop potluck that came out surprisingly good. Nubia thought it tasted pretty good (and she knows a thing or two about good salsa). It even made the porkchop I forgot about on the grill slightly palatable. Several beers later, I got to beat Adam in pool…some french toast for breakfast…I guess I’ve had a pretty good last 12 hours all in all..