“What’s caviar?” I asked my mother. I had been sitting on the floor of our house, on our farm in rural Australia, watching “Dynasty”, my favorite TV show as a little kid. Joan Collins had just slapped a huge spoonful onto her scrambled eggs. “It’s a snack for fancy people” my mother said, before rolling her eyes, grabbing her work hat and heading back outside. “Hell yes”, I thought. When I was 12 years old my parents took us to Europe for the first time, and we got to see caviar at a restaurant. “WOW ... one day I’m gonna make this stuff and throw it on my eggs like they do on Dynasty” was my internal dialogue. So here we are, not just making any caviar, but selling the very best caviar with our chic French friends at @caviarkaspiala. We’ve got a handful of tins left, for same day delivery in Los Angeles before Friday. I’m keeping two of them in my fridge: one for me to slap on my eggs early Christmas morning. The other one to send to @joancollinsdbe if anyone knows her address x Richard