Garlic and Sapphires by Ruth Reichl
Feb. 9th, 2010 11:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rainbowunicorn_reads"He popped one buttery little morsel into his mouth, and then another. By this eighth, he was shaking his head sadly and saying, it makes you realize how much bad rugellach there is in the world. Oh, okay, I'll just have one more."
"I ate slowly, first the lacy licorice-flavored chervil, then sturdy, spicy wild parsley, and finally the aggressive little fronds of dill. Poring through them, I discovered a single leaf of lamb's quarter, dandelion, chickweed. I followed the flavors in my mind until the walls vanished and I emerged into a deep glade that grew more distinct with each bite."
"And now she settled for a little life, all alone, living on the edges of other people's happiness, hugging her hatred close to keep her warm."
"The fish, poached in goose fat, had absorbed the taste of the bird. It was a sensation both dizzying and exciting, as if you were flying and swimming at the same time. Chicken had also been transformed, slowly poached in a lemon-strewn bath until it has lost its barnyard character."
If you're fond of food lit and quirky characters, this book might just be what you're looking for. Ruth Reichl, editor-in-chief of the now defunct Gourmet magazine, writes here about how she disguised herself when reviewing restaurants for the New York Times. This is my ideal escapist fiction: Exorbitant prices, eccentric characters and exotic dishes, all described in minute detail.
Each chapter contained recipes related to the chapter, a format I highly liked, being a weekend cook wannabe.
I would like to be a wonderful cook, one who can proudly claim that a dish or two is his/her 'specialty', but alas, I do not have a functional kitchen at my disposal. So until then, I am satisfied with just living vicariously through a book like this. Reichl makes me want to write about everything that gives me gustatory pleasure, if only for that pleasant recollection in the future.
What I think: 9 unicorns
"I ate slowly, first the lacy licorice-flavored chervil, then sturdy, spicy wild parsley, and finally the aggressive little fronds of dill. Poring through them, I discovered a single leaf of lamb's quarter, dandelion, chickweed. I followed the flavors in my mind until the walls vanished and I emerged into a deep glade that grew more distinct with each bite."
"And now she settled for a little life, all alone, living on the edges of other people's happiness, hugging her hatred close to keep her warm."
"The fish, poached in goose fat, had absorbed the taste of the bird. It was a sensation both dizzying and exciting, as if you were flying and swimming at the same time. Chicken had also been transformed, slowly poached in a lemon-strewn bath until it has lost its barnyard character."
If you're fond of food lit and quirky characters, this book might just be what you're looking for. Ruth Reichl, editor-in-chief of the now defunct Gourmet magazine, writes here about how she disguised herself when reviewing restaurants for the New York Times. This is my ideal escapist fiction: Exorbitant prices, eccentric characters and exotic dishes, all described in minute detail.
Each chapter contained recipes related to the chapter, a format I highly liked, being a weekend cook wannabe.
I would like to be a wonderful cook, one who can proudly claim that a dish or two is his/her 'specialty', but alas, I do not have a functional kitchen at my disposal. So until then, I am satisfied with just living vicariously through a book like this. Reichl makes me want to write about everything that gives me gustatory pleasure, if only for that pleasant recollection in the future.
What I think: 9 unicorns