I love all sorts of nuts, but walnuts are perhaps my favorites. Now is their season, and I bought loads of them on my last visit to Zagreb. Every once in a while, I go for a few nuts that rest in a large plastic box in my kitchen. I lift the lid and grab a few of them without looking. Whenever I happen to fetch half a walnut, I feel sort of fortunate. It is a pleasure to crunch it with my teeth. But I just fetched a whole walnut on my last visit to the kitchen. I could not believe my eyes, and so I checked it from every side over and over again. It was whole for true, and it still harbored one half of the woody partition that runs through its middle. Once I removed it, I checked the walnut from all sides for the last time. Not a bit of it was missing. In the end, I felt kind of sorry when I put it into my mouth. I could not remember the last time I had such an opportunity. But the crunch was marvelous. Besides, the walnut was delicious. As I write, I search for its crumbs with my tongue. And delicious is the word to the very last crumb.