A Feast in Transit

To the guest who has come a long way,

A seat by the window, a small suitcase with bread, cheese, and half a bottle of wine inside. This letter comes from Paris, 1935–36, but not from any fixed spot. On a cobalt-blue envelope, a refined Art Deco geometric serif spells out the title. A finely engraved cream Paris skyline hangs upside down along the upper edge. Rose and jade cut-paper forms glitter like jewels, an ocher art-salon stamp sits in one corner, and one precise route line runs through the whole.

More than a century ago a French gastronome set down an aphorism in his book: "The pleasure of the table belongs to all ages, all conditions, all countries, and all days." — Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, The Physiology of Taste (1825)

A feast need not stay at one table. It can be packed in a bag, sway with the carriage, and be laid wherever you sit down. Take the place of honor. A letter is such a feast in transit; eat slowly, and write slowly.

May your table always be on the road

Storm Post Office

1935–36 · Paris