Now I have another thing to do with the cornmeal that mocks me from the freezer, and the blueberries I'm getting delivered tomorrow (I'm in Madison, WI. Things like blueberry deliveries happen here.) My 9" tart pan is standing by excitedly after months of sitting depressed in the back of the cupboard. Oh, and I thought you would like to know (at the serious risk of sounding like I'm sucking up, but I swear that this happened, and, anyway, I have a reputation for being an anti-sycophant) that my son's gf pronounced you a culinary genius. Your potato salad is now a legend round our place.