I find myself with a little extra time this morning in Philadelphia. I got up early and went out to take some photos in the fresh early light. Except it is already about 90 degrees, and the air feels like pudding, so I lasted for about ten minutes. Wouldn’t you know I’d be here just in time for a record-breaking heat wave? It is beautiful down here in the historical area, from what I’be seen. Not only have I seen very little of it, because of my inability to tolerate the climate, I have committed a gross fauxpas…I have declined to try a philly cheese steak. The idea of grilled roast beef and onions topped off with Cheez Whiz on a big flaky roll just doesn’t go down. All I can think of are salads vegetables and water. Well, and ice cream. Okay, strawberry-rhubarb cobbler or pie with ice cream. And beets. I have eaten beets with feta or goat cheese every day since I’ve been here, after not eating a single beet for at least five years. What is with my sudden affection for this humble rubylike vegetable? The other night at The White Dog restaurant (prime tourist spot – all organic local food, made on the premises) I had a beet salad that would have been satisfying as a dessert. (Except that I ate it first and had dessert afterwards.) Thick slices of tender beets layered with mild creamy goat cheese, with a few little greens on top and some spiced walnuts scattered around the base. Topped off with a light viniagrette, it was dreamy. All you beet haters read it and weep! I will certainly be weeping when next I go to Weight Watchers and face the scale. Oh well.