The majority of Thursday night was spent writing lyrics and finishing (3!) songs. What does a hungry, world-renowned recording artist do when the songs are done and the belly is growling its own tune? Make foie gras, of course.
I cut a block of foie gras in three equal slices, fried it until brown in a hot pan, laid it on warm wheat toast and then spooned a reduction of Balsamic vinegar, honey and salt and pepper over the top. A meal fit for a rock star. Should have eaten it in my limo.