Good Samaritan Tatiana wanted to cheer me up, and so she insisted on treating me to a dinner at Spago on Canon. “It’s so loving and good-hearted of you, but I don’t want to go to a place that attracts tourists,” I said. We went anyway.

We sat in the indoor, open-air patio section with a nice view of one of the fires. We shared three dishes — risotto something-or-other, Black Sea Bass and pizza with Scottish salmon and sprinkled with red caviar.

Me to Tatiana: “Oh my God!…this is the most delicious pizza I’ve had in years, perhaps decades…it’s wonderful!…thank you so much, mon cheri, for insisting on doing this!”

20 or 25 minutes later the actual, real-deal Wolfang Puck, smiling and gentle-mannered and wearing a white chef’s jacket, came over to to wish us well. “How are you guys?” he said. I repeated my wild salmon pizza enthusiasm and Tatiana said everything was great. She didn’t know our visitor but that was okay. The mood was cool and easy.

Tatiana: “Hello, I’m Tatiana, I’m from Russia.” Wolfgang: “I’m from Austria.” Tatiana: “Are you chef?” Wolfgang: “Well, yes…I’m the owner actually.” Tatiana: “What is your name?” And he told her, of course.