I also interrupted my gainfully unemployed week to schlep to a lunch promoting Rick Moonen’s new book on sustainable seafood. You can forgive him cooking in the eco-disaster that is Las Vegas when you hear him speak so passionately about voting with your wallet (I went straight to Pescatore across the terminal and bought farmed arctic char for dinner afterward). And he is very good on his feet when addressing seafood for dummies. He noted that when the government gets involved in regulating the oceans, as just happened when the Pacific salmon fishery was shut down for the first time ever, all it means is that it is five years too late. And he did make me very happy that the right-wing crazies who have hijacked this country have had no say over what we eat from the wild. Apparently the environmentally safest fish are the most promiscuous fish, the ones having sex very young, as opposed to orange roughy, say, which reproduce at 40. Regeneration is key, as it is with all the cults we condone. If the ovary overlords had their way, we would only be able to eat immature chickens on antibiotics. Which, come to think of it, is almost the case in this country. And, of course, why no one talks about chicken rubbers.