As we talked, a New York scholar who had just finished a month in Sonoma studying Fisher’s writing came in to say good-bye, and to ask if she’d pose for a snapshot with him. She transferred into her wheelchair and moved into the kitchen/living room. Worn area rugs covered parts of the floor; a lap rug was folded at the foot of a mustard-colored chaise lounge, one of several comfortably dilapidated pieces of upholstered furniture that clustered in the middle of this large room. Hundreds of cookbooks filled the shelves, but near the kitchen were only Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking, The Joy of Cooking by Irma Rombauer, and Fisher’s own anthology, The Art of Eating, which includes several recipes.

“When I cook I like to consult Julia, Mrs. Rombauer, and Escoffier or Larousse Gastronomique,” Fisher said. “You’ve got the zucchini, so you see what they all do, then you do it your own way.”

M.F.K. Fisher liked to cook for herself, but she hadn’t done it for years. She was clearly infuriated by her body’s failings. “I can’t read at all now. It’s very frustrating. My voice shakes, it wobbles, or it goes very high. I’m of an equable nature, usually. But it is very difficult, because I can’t read and I can’t write and I can’t talk and I can’t walk.

“I’m fragile, I’m not frail, if you know the difference. Fragile like steel,” she asserted. “I should have died several times, but I haven’t yet. I’m not meant to die yet.”

She paused.

“I will. I look forward to it actually, because it’s the last great thing I don’t know about. The problem is, I can’t write about it. That is frustrating, because I’d want to know about it and then tell somebody.”

What will she leave behind?

“The books will be around for a while, probably. You can never tell. I might be forgotten immediately, or there might be a recrudescence, and 50 years from now I would be worth more than I am now.”

Like Elvis Presley?

“Exactly.” She laughed.

On the shaded patio, she selected a giant wicker throne as the best spot for a photo with the young man from New York. Settled, she tilted her chin and eyed the camera with the same composure with which she once posed for Man Ray. She looked at the grove of trees below, by the highway, and said that we should see how beautiful they look in the afternoon light. And she said, “Now that you know the way, you can come back.”

[Go here for a listing of M.F.K. Fisher's body of work.]

More than 20 years as a writer, Heidi Yorkshire has had some exciting opportunities, but none better than the chance in 1989 to meet one of the writers she admired most, M.F.K. Fisher. Based in Portland, she was the wine columnist for The Oregonian and has written two books on wine, Wine Savvy and Simply Wine. She contributed travel and food features to Bon Appetit, Travel & Leisure and many other magazines. Her latest project is organizing a series of seminars for artisan food retailers: www.foodbyhandseminars.com.