I’m only on page 92, but I’m literally gobbling this up. Okay, maybe not literally, but Reichl’s descriptions of food (“They had been deep-fried, and they crunched and crackled in my mouth like some extraordinary popcorn of the sea. When the noise stopped, my mouth was filled with the faint sweet richness of crabmeat, lingering some fabulous sensual echo.”) make me want to eat this book. Or even my hand, for that matter.
Don’t read this on an empty stomach. Consider yourself warned.
- The mayo jar story. And the ending made me smile.
- I don’t think I’ll be getting too crazy with pumpkin this season (I was always more of sweet potato gal, anyway), but this needs to get made.
- Mall madness in the ’80s. You’ve got to see this.