When I fall off the wagon, I practically leap off into the abyss. Hence in the space of 24 hours I ate almost an entire package of Pepperidge Farm Bordeaux cookies, very thin, crispy and so, so good butter cookies. An entire cookie that seems be all crumbly, caramelized edge. All because I didn't have breakfast that morning. Whether that also explains my sudden nostaligia for Mark Linn-Baker, of that classic show Perfect Strangers, I don't know. But I do think Cousin Larry has been sadly underappreciated.