How to Practice True Economy

There is supposed to be something intrinsically satisfying about writing the last chapter of a book, even if it is written before the end. There should be something doubly so about writing of half-forgotten luxuries and half-remembered delicate impossible dishes at the end of a book of resolutely practical recipes for foxing the wolf and keeping him either at his proper distance, or well-jointed in a stewpan. It should be like waking from a dream of your loved one, and finding perfume on your lips.