Chere Sarah,

Man, that was quite a week. One of those long ones where I felt like I was limping across the finish line to Friday. Most nights I threw together one of our usual no-cook dinners -- you know, scrambled eggs, kale salad, or 718-499-9888 (that would be the number of our local pizza place) -- poured a generous glass of wine, and called it a day. By the time the weekend rolled around, though, I was itching for some time in the kitchen. Some friends had invited us over for ribs on Sunday and asked if we’d bring the potato salad...