Today's Philadelphia Inquirer features a long article about the newly renovated kitchen at the Kelly Writers House, now renamed in honor of Ed Kane and Marty Wallace: The Kane-Wallace Kitchen. Here is a link to the whole article, and here, below, are the final paragraphs of the piece:Ed Kane, a venture capitalist who lives in Concord, Mass., says his first connection to the Writers House came through Paul Kelly, a 1962 Penn and 1964 Wharton School grad, who funded the renovations that made this old house ready for prime time. Both men were university trustees.
Kane's second connection is through daughter Eleanor. She chose Penn over Princeton, Ed Kane says, because the Writers House "smelled like home."
At home, mom Martha Wallace had a career in computer software, but whenever possible she had meals made from fresh ingredients on the dinner table.
"I wasn't a fanatic about it," Wallace says. "But I come from generations who cooked from scratch. My grandmother made her own ketchup."For my part," Wallace says, "I didn't make things from a box or buy prepared foods."
Ellie Kane, who majored in English with an emphasis on creative writing, worked for a year after graduation at the Writers House, where, in addition to recruiting prospective students, she perfected a recipe for chocolate chip cookies (see recipe). She's leaving soon for the Farm School in Athol, Mass., to pursue a career in agriculture and education.
In other words, she's becoming a farmer.
Here is a PDF copy of the article.
"I teach horizontally, meaning that while I might begin with a fixed idea of what I'm going to teach that day, I let it drift rhizomatically way off topic, often pulling it back when it gets too far. I rely on non-fixed materials to teach this way; the whole world is at my fingertips. Should I go off on a tangent about John and Rauschenberg and their love relationship as expressed in Rauschenberg's bed, an image of that bed is always a click away. From there, we can head anywhere into the non-fixed universe, be it film, text or sound. And of course, that always takes us elsewhere. As Cage says, 'We are getting nowhere fast.'" 
that anyone has yet got the imaginative measure of that terrifying day six years ago. Certainly our Tolstoy has not crawled out of the rubble. The closest we have, Don DeLillo, succeeded as an essayist-journalist ("In the Ruins of the Future: Reflections on Terror and Loss in the Shadow of September,” Harper’s, December 2001) but, to my mind, failed as a novelist ("Falling Man"). One reason, perhaps, is that the remembered emotion was instantly buried under a pile of cultural junk.' - Tod Gitlin in his review of Susan Faludi's The Terror Dream (written for 
