In the interest of making a dent in the long list of books I’d like to read (as well as in the much more recently developed interest of really pushing to read something, anything that is not a textbook), I’ve once again turned off the television for the summer. Much like last year, I can rent movies to my heart’s content, but the set otherwise stays off from Memorial Day weekend through Labor Day.
I’ve been working on several books these last few weeks as well as catching up on an unmentionable number of magazines I’m subscribed to, so I’m only now managing to finish any one particular thing: Ruth Reichl’s Garlic and Sapphires, a terrific account of her tenure as the New York Times restaurant critic, her food adventures in the city, and of the many disguises she created in order to conduct her reviews. I was introduced to her work several years ago when I picked up a copy of her first memoir, Tender at the Bone, on a whim. I read it over a weekend and immediately bought her second book, Comfort Me With Apples. As with her previous memoirs, Garlic and Sapphires is laced with recipes for tasty-sounding dishes that she prepares as events unfold. (I’ve yet to try any of them, however; I am much more of an armchair cook than anything.) Reichl has an intimate style that easily draws me into her table conversations or kitchen, as the case may be. And I love the way she writes about food: of its ability to nourish and inspire, and of how it can be woven so strongly into our memories of our families, friends, and lives long since passed. Her work is funny and tender and a lovely read.
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