No, this isn't an economics post, but yet another post about food.

This morning, I woke up wanting sauteed wild mushrooms. Having a bit of time, I went to the Union Square greenmarket in search of something in season. Though the market was crowded with both customers and vendors, there were no wild mushrooms to be had. Just some cultivated shitakes up from Kennett Square, Pennsylvania, the capital of the American cultivated mushroom. My views on Kennett Square are a little softened by the presence of a really terrific restaurant in the town, but it's still not one of my favorite places. However much I appreciate commoditized mushrooms when I'm making a pizza, I really wish they didn't exist.

Having reluctantly put the mushroom sautee plan back onto the shelf, I went looking for something else to cook. Although I was variously tempted by some Jerusalem artichokes, some really tiny yellow carrots, and a whole pile of mustard greens,here's what I ended up with - one bunch of wild rocket, (aka arugula, although this species is properly known as rocket) and some fingerling potatoes of various sizes. I thought about it for a while, and decided that the ingredients were calling out for a salad (although one of those new age lettuce leaf and potato "pizzas" did cross my mind).

You can guess, roughly, how the salad was made. But just to highlight a few points, rocket (like spinach, and all other crinkly greens, must be washed in a bath, and then lifted out from underneath. If you just rinse, the leaves won't be clean enough, and you'll be grinding through grit as you eat. And if you wash them in the bath and then tip it into a colander, well, look here and see what all you'll be pouring back over your greenery. The potatoes should be boiled until soft to a paring knife's touch, and then let to dry over the residual heat of the pan, like this. And vinaigrette (traditionally, one part vinegar, 3 parts oil, crushed garlic, and mustard) should be made in a mortar, if at all possible. The end result, with some chicken sauteed in hazelnut butter skin down is a delicious, relatively light dinner, and a welcome return to cooking for me after weeks of delivery restaurant food in the office (the undecorous potatoes on top might be clumsy garnish, or, well, might be there to cover where I cut into the meat to check that it was done. I'll leave that to the imagination).

The good kind of restaurant makes specials out of what's available, fresh, and in season. We should do the same at home.

Before I went to France, I spent a good bit of time shopping for trousers. I needed a few formal pairs, because I realized that jeans are less appropriate over there than here. I suppose the fundamental rule of formal pants, far more important than anything else, is to avoid pants that aren't made of 100% wool.* Other than that, all I can add is that after you've been to literally every store that sells men's pants in a mall like that at King of Prussia (a super-mall in the suburbs of Philadelphia), you end up figuring out the pricing structure that underlies the trouser market. That alone is probably of some use to people, so I'll lay that out now.

*[Of course, what I should be clear about is that I don't have anything against cotton pants. But I don't see them as formal].

$50 and below - unspeakable disasters made of materials that should be used for tug boat cables rather than clothing.

$50 ($20-$24.99 at Marshall's, etc) - low end polyester crap

$90 ($29.99) - high end polyester crap with patterns that look like the more expensive pants below, but aren't.

$110 (on sale) Ralph Lauren wool crap - I tried on a green pair of these pants once, which represent the low end of the man's wool trouser market, and discovered that I looked like I was trying to use a full size moroccan flag as a loin cloth. That is, they're cut for the the extremely voluminous gentleman. If that describes you, they're probably ok, though you'd be missing out on much better options available for about the same price with a little looking around. A good way to identify low end wool pants is that they're made of wool, but made somewhere with no tradition for making pants.

$140 and up - proper wool pants. Good choices in this range include the trousers made by Brooks Brothers and Jos. A. Bank, both of which are sometimes available at the long end of the price range. Brooks Brothers particularly offers excellent options for people who need extra space in the waist or the thighs.

But my favorite, by far, are Zanella's italian made jobs, available at Nordstrom. The bad news is that they cost $350. The good news is that high end discounters, such as Century 21 here in New York, and any Nordstrom rack (Nordstrom's excellent outlet store) will have them somewhere in the store for $110. Yes, it's still a lot of money. But compared to what else is available at the same price (Ralph Lauren wool crap), they're miraculous. Comfortable, hardy, non-wrinkling (good for clumsy people like me with little time to iron), and good looking to boot, they're literally the best pants I've ever worn. And they're so easy on the waist that I wore them to a four course dinner at Babbo. If you find a pair at $110, buy them now. I'll accept thanks later.

Via Ted Frank, I see that Veronica Mars has gotten a contract through the end of the season (although for seven, rather than nine, episodes). I will take what I can get.

I like the new season, although it lacks a little bit of the trash and spunk of seasons one and two. A Friend of Crescat complained to me yesterday that Veronica herself is becoming much less likeable, but tastes differ. It is true that the traits (i.e., residual emotional damage) that made her seem mature, jaded, and cool as a high-schooler make her seem a bit melodramatic and needing-to-grow-up as a college freshman. But that was true for a lot of us.