Having not yet fully grasped the contours of the seasons as they exist in the UK, I may have waited too long for the summer of 2008, which, had it ever arrived, would have marked my fourth summer since moving from New York to London.  But now that the two-digit dates of September are here, I am prepared to accept the obvious and pack up my unused, unwrinkled Agnes B. beige linen suit for ‘winter’. I will, nevertheless, hold off on my ‘autumn’ menus and cling like shrink wrap to tomato season for as long as it lasts. [Read more...]