I should ignore the great redesign of the Sunday magazine just the way advertisers did (11 non-house ads over 56 pages on debut weekend?) But I was pretty awed at the miscalculation of the premier food column. Weekends are when home cooks want to kick back and think about cassoulet and other Everests they can take the time to climb. Not “git ‘er done” soup formulas from Dinings past. (Don’t even get me started on the Lives column on the “tamale” I read months ago on the infinite internets.) I’m no admirer of the Wicked of Oz, but the WSJ’s Saturday food coverage shows how it’s done: mini recipes that are almost haikus in their lyricism and precision but come from a plethora of different palates. Not from one “boil an onion in plain water, then add spinach” recycler.