In your print of Feb. 9, 2011, a column appeared, one "Man About Town," that hoisted a Fairfield eatery to the constellation.

The description of the fare noted, "Preparation by mortals and fit only for Gods." I was pinned by the author's quill. It was a repeat of compliments I had heard before concerning that particular commercial stone.

So off I went in search of rewards described. I knew it would not entail difficulty, as I knew the exact location of "Hemlock Hardware Emporium."

Much to my dismay, ease was not the case. Yes, I did locate the establishment for the homestead surgeon, but the "stone" remained hidden. I ambled thither and yon, I saw not "the shack-like corner restaurant." No blight in sight.

What I did note was an extremely neat corner architecture of forest materials. The name of the entrepreneur, boldly and cleanly proclaiming those ensconced, for all the world to see. Fortunately, my pupils were captured.

In truth, I sought a "shack-like" structure of questionable security. My soul was caressed, for here stood a "temple" for the palate, I could convey my bride, to same, with pride.

As to the author of column in question, perhaps we differ on the definition of "shack." I have observed abodes captioned thusly. Route 17 in Connecticut, going north, a nearby portrait. Route 20 in New York state, heading west. Here quite a bevy of the aforementioned. Route 7 in the neighboring state. Patina of prosperity tossed, one observes the picture of "earnest" living, "shacks" the format. The sector, Appalachian Trail, blessed by hikers, cursed by those homesteading, presents a diversity of "shack-like" hostels.

I am not castigating those imprisoned financially and otherwise. It is the contrast of the "shack-like corner restaurant" (or so described in Fairfield), and those more to the point, in other geographics.

However, I was rewarded. The "chef" in charge, a master of culinary taste, and the place of pleasing aromas, tastefully structured. To the author, thank you. His appreciation of excellent cuisine shadows his angular depiction of restaurant highlighted.

Before striking the tent, a question: "How soundeth thou?"

J. Alfred Dunn