Speaking of the Journal, whatever else Murdoch is doing to that paper, he at least is keeping subscribers up on what matters: how the Kravises eat. Sending Ray Sokolov to drop almost half a grand a head at Cafe Gray was sheer brilliance at a time when the borrower in chief is getting ready to dispense alms to revive the economy. But this was obviously the right reporter on the luxury front lines, not realizing Rome has already fallen: He knew there was a pea under his seat cushion. And gol darn it, when they say chef’s table there should damn sure be a chef around to kiss some derrieres. I think he forgot this is W’s America: To make it here, a celebrity has to work three or four or 18 restaurant jobs. More of those tales, please, sir.