We had dinner with friends in Manhattan a few weeks ago. The discussion naturally gravitated to what we were doing for the weekend. Somewhere between the antipasti platter and my ragu alla Bolognese with fresh tagliatelle, I mentioned that we were going to see the New American Wing at the Metropolitan. Suddenly, our friend Mary Bartos, a native New Yorker and art aficionado when not running her Upper East Side boutique Pan American Phoenix, sprang out of her chair, saying something about Gertrude Stein. She was so excited that I couldn’t understand..
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