An Anniversary Trip to New York

One of Mike's and my favorite pastimes is dreaming about all of the places we want to visit. Me: Prince Edward Island. Mike: Zambia. Me: Hawaii. Mike: Caribbean islands. Me: England; Mike: Italy. Back and forth, back and forth, each of us vying for our favorite. But one place that never seemed to compete for a top spot was New York City. For some reason, it just didn't tempt either one of us.

But a few months ago we decided we wanted to go somewhere for our anniversary, and somehow, in the early stages, there was New York. And then we talked about a few other possibilities. But then, there it was again. We just kept coming back around to it. Maybe it just seemed wrong that with all the traveling we've done, we still hadn't ever been to America's most famous city.

So it was decided: we would fly across the country and spend a few days in the Big Apple. And we were determined to use those days to their full potential and do and see and eat as many things as humanly possible. We quickly learned that New York waits for no one. When we were getting on the boat to see the Statue of Liberty, the boat crew kept shouting, "Don't stop or hesitate!" And we decided this was a pretty good motto for New York City in general.

We adopted it as our own personal goal for this trip, and our efforts were not too shabby. In fact, on our last day, as we squeezed in a little walk on the High Line before catching an uber to the airport, I said, "Maybe next time we should go on a trip where we actually relax." Because by that point, we were dead tired.

Tired, but so happy. New York might have not been at the top of our list of places to visit, but it is now at the top of our list of places to return to. We loved every minute we spent in this beautiful, vibrant city.

Here are the highlights:

Central Park
I'll start with Central Park, and not just because it was one of the first things we did in New York. If I could go back to one, and only one, moment during our vacation, it would be this one. We walked to the park early in the morning, stopping at a nearby bakery to pick up breakfast along the way. We beat the tourists and arrived with the locals--the ones running and riding their bikes and walking their dogs. That morning in Central Park was the best weather we had during the trip, and it was heavenly. The trees were all in blossom and the grass was already green. I shed my jacket early on and basked in the sunlight. Central Park is one of those places I had heard about all of my life. I had this vision of what it would be like, and the crazy thing is, it was exactly as I imagined! We rented bikes and took our time riding around the perimeter of the park, stopping here and there for a photo or to explore a little side path. I loved the feeling of being away from the city and right in its heart at the same time. There's nothing else like it. After we got home, I realized we had only scratched the surface of all of Central Park's little secrets and beauties and hidden attractions.

Transportation
Between ubers, walking, and the subway we got around the city without any problems. We decided to take an uber from and then back to the airport and also used one to visit an out-of-the-way yarn shop. It was worth it to us because it allowed us to really maximize our time and do a couple of things that we wouldn't have been able to otherwise. But most of the time, we walked. At first I was slightly terrified to step foot onto New York streets because I had seen the way our first uber driver paid no attention to whether or not pedestrians had the right of way. Instead he would just inch his nose into a sea of people, and they would gradually part to make room. I thought for sure he was going to hit someone. But it didn't take me long to realize you just have to make the decision and then go (also, jaywalking on one-way streets is apparently what you do). Walking gave us the best view of the city--close up and personal. There was so much to see, and it was always changing. But we definitely used the subway a ton as well, which helped to shorten the distances when necessary. We got a seven-day metro card, and I think we used the subway enough that it was worth it. One thing I loved about the subway is that it really highlighted how varied the landscape and architecture of New York is. When we were walking, the changes were more gradual and subtle, but when we took the subway, we dropped down in one neighborhood and popped back up in another, and it often looked like we were in a completely different city.

Rachel and Micah
When we decided to go to New York, we called up Mike's cousin, Rachel, and her husband, Micah, to see if they wanted to meet us in the city for a day or two. We don't get to see them nearly as often as we would like since they live in Pennsylvania, so we couldn't get so close to them and not at least attempt to get in a visit. Luckily, they had time to drive up on Friday, and we spent the entire day with them. We loved having the chance to make some memories together and catch up on life. Rachel and I are always up for a good bookish discussion, and we had fun discussing and debating a recent controversial read as we walked among the skyscrapers. We're so grateful we got to be with them.

Food
New York lured us in with promises of delicious food. We came with a list of recommendations a mile long and did our very best to eat our way through the city. After checking into our hotel, we literally ran to Levain Bakery to buy a cookie, and we maintained that sort of focused intensity for the entire trip. Want to know what we ate?

Wednesday:
--Levain: chocolate chip cookies are always my dessert of choice, but these! I thought I had died and gone to heaven. I love it that this was my first taste of New York.
--Jacob's Pickle: I asked the waiter if the fish tacos were good. He said, "Well, let me put it this way. The fish tacos are the healthiest item on the menu, and we're not exactly known for our healthy food." I got them anyway, and they were delicious. Mike got the more traditional fried chicken, which was also good. But the street corn stole the show. We ate outside and enjoyed watching the sun go down on the city.

Thursday:
--Stopped at a bakery in the morning. I can't remember the name of it. It wasn't anything special.
--The Great American Bagel: We only got one bagel to split because we didn't think it was going to be very good (we had our eye on a couple of other bagel places to try), but then we bit into it, and we were like, "Is this a bagel?!" It was like biting into a cloud. It was the biggest shocker of the trip.
--Grimaldi's: a cross between American and Italian pizza. It's popular for a reason.
--Natsumi: We had reservations here after The Lion King, and we felt like true New Yorkers going out for sushi at 10:30 at night (except that we didn't drink).

Friday:
--Levain: Again. Don't judge. This time besides cookies, we also got the brioche (my mouth is watering just thinking about it), lemon bread (dense and crumby without being dry), and a scone. It's good I don't actually live near one of these in real life.
--Ipuddos: a ramen place that I would recommend in a heartbeat. We got a bowl of ramen to split, but the thing I really loved was the side of rice you could add on to the ramen. It was so good! And the frozen yogurt for dessert hit the spot.
--The Smith: the mac and cheese came highly recommended, which sold me before we even went. Besides that, we also got the potato chips with bleu cheese fondue (sounds weird, tastes amazing), the tomato soup encrusted with toasted cheese, and the burger (which Mike said rivaled the best burger he's ever had). The one mistake I made was ordering three things that all had cheese. Individually, I would have loved each one. All together, it was a little too rich.

Saturday:
--Bubby's: I had the pancake flight. Mike had the biscuits and gravy (except their biscuits weren't ready so he had to swap it out for ciabatta). I loved the location and vibe of this restaurant, but Mike said the gravy was trying too hard to be healthy.
--Shake Shack: Our last stop in the airport before heading home because why not?

After it was all said in done, we only had two food regrets. Mike, that the only bagel we ate was one that he had to share with me; and me, that we walked into Max Brenner and didn't order a hot chocolate.

Bookish Destinations
We didn't make it to any museums, but we did visit two literary spots that have been on my must-see list for a long time: the New York Public Library and Strand Bookstore. The New York Public Library was magnificent. The outside steps, the entrance hall, and the reading room took my breath away. But I'm not going to lie, the children's section was a disappointment (except that it had a case containing the original Winnie-the-Pooh stuffed toys). I'm guessing there are other New York branches that devote more space to children's literature; there must be. In contrast, the Strand traded in sophistication for miles and miles of books (eighteen, to be exact), all crammed in on top of each other. It was overwhelming. I didn't know where to look first. I actually wish I had gone with a list of out of print or difficult to find books because I bet they were there. I just didn't think to look for them.

Yarn Shops
Since time was of the essence, it was actually a big sacrifice (and a sign of true love) for Mike to let me go to, not one, not two, but three New York yarn shops. And I loved every single one of them. Each one had its own unique culture and vibe and actually matched the neighborhood it was in very well: Knitty City--friendly and social; Brooklyn General Store--charming and old-fashioned; and Purl Soho--sleek and sophisticated. I came home with little yarny souvenirs from each one, and I'm looking forward to making some new things that will help me remember our vacation.

The Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island
Since this was our first time in New York, we had check off some of the big bucket list items. The Statue of Liberty almost got cut at least twice, but in the end, I'm so glad we devoted a large portion of our time to it because it really was special and made a big impact on me. Also, for a mere $18.00, it is literally the cheapest thing you can do in New York (or at least feels like it). We got to ride the ferry to Liberty Island, go on the walking audio tour (which was fantastic), get back on the ferry for a short ride to Ellis Island, go on the walking audio tour (equally fantastic), and get back on the ferry for the ride home. Seeing the statue in person was surprisingly emotional for me--partly because there's just something about Lady Liberty that is so majestic but also because I couldn't help but imagine my great-grandfather sailing from Denmark and what it must have been like for him to catch a glimpse of her for the first time. I also just loved learning some really cool facts about her (like, did you know that Alexandre-Gustave Eiffel, creator of the Eiffel tower, designed a similar type structure for the inside of the Statue of Liberty?). We originally had tickets for Friday that would have allowed us to go inside the pedestal, but we ended up having to switch to Thursday and the pedestal tickets were gone. Maybe it's really cool and maybe we really missed out, but I still felt like we got to see plenty.

Broadway Shows
We ended up getting to see two shows  while we were in New York: The Lion King and My Fair Lady. We decided on The Lion King after several weeks of deliberation. Of course we wanted to see Hamilton but not really enough to fork over the money. We tried the lottery but didn't get it, and really, I was fine with Lion King because it felt like such a New York classic to me (it has been running since 1997), and I actually hadn't ever seen the stage production. I don't need to tell you that it was fantastic. The costumes especially were really spectacular. The only downside for me was that the theater was in Times Square, and I'll be honest, Times Square and I did not click. It was too loud, too bright, too gaudy. I much preferred Lincoln Square where My Fair Lady was playing. We had toyed with the idea of seeing a second show but didn't know if it was the best use of our one and only day with Rachel and Micah. However, Rachel really wanted to see My Fair Lady (and frankly, I did too), so we went to the box office right as it was opening to see if they had any standing room tickets. They didn't, but the sales clerk said they had a few tickets for $99 (which was half the price of what we were seeing online), so we snatched them up. And as it turned out, going to this show is one of my favorite memories from New York, partly because I went into it in such a grumpy mood (the subway had some delays which was bumping us up right against the clock, and I hate being late), but as soon as the play started, my sourness dissipated. It's such a delightful story and much funnier than I remembered, and of course, the acting and singing were stellar. Ironically though, one of my takeaways from New York was actually that I don't have to go to New York to see a high quality production. I'm grateful for our own local theater that cultivates an amazing pool of talent that we get to take advantage of on a regular basis.

The Color Factory
We spent most of our time trying to check off some of the big ticket New York things: Statue of Liberty, Central Park, Broadway show, etc. But one of the things that Rachel really wanted to do was visit the newly installed Color Factory. It's an interactive museum where you take a guided tour through different rooms, all encouraging you to experience color in a new way. For example, in one room, Mike and I sat across from each other and followed several prompts to create portraits of each other. In another, we spun around on different color wheels. Many of the rooms had tasty, colorful samples to try. It was totally unique, and being a big fan of color myself, I really liked it (although when we reached the last room and jumped into the giant blue ball pit, I was a little amused that I was there without my kids).

Maximizing our time

Even though we couldn't do everything we wanted to, we did try to cram in as much as we could, even if it meant we couldn't get the full experience this time. For example, on Thursday we went to the 9/11 memorial. We didn't have time for the museum, but we walked around the memorials and read the names etched into them. It felt somber and sobering and beautiful all at the same time. We also squeezed in a walk on the High Line just before we left on Saturday. It was a lovely mix of urban green space. Unfortunately it was very cold and windy, so I was kind of glad we could only walk for a little bit.

I almost always leave every trip wanting a little bit more while at the same time feeling grateful I get to go home. It's a good place to be--a sweet spot of craving and satisfaction. But this time, I've been surprised by how often my thoughts have strayed to New York and how much I want to go back. It's going to make choosing our next destination a challenge--from now on, I'll never be able to decide if we should go somewhere new or go back to the limitless possibilities of NYC.

P.S. Many thanks to my mom and Mike's sister who kept our kids for us while we were away. This trip would not have been possible without them.

10 Foods I've Been Craving (and Eating)

With Thanksgiving just around the corner, I thought I'd share a few of the foods I can't get enough of lately:

1. Avocado, cut in half, sprinkled with freshly ground salt, and eaten with a spoon. I wish they weren't so expensive right now, especially since anytime Aaron sees me eating one, he thinks he needs one, too.

2. Trader Joe's frozen macaroni and cheese, heated in the microwave or oven, either will get the job done. I've tried my share of baked macaroni and cheese recipes, and none can even compare to this. In fact, when I tried it for the first time, I was like, "This is what I've been searching for all my life!" I have to eat it in hiding, unless I want Clark to eat half of it.

3. Soft-boiled eggs, with the yolk still vibrant and orange, on the verge of leaking, but not quite. All last week, the magic boiling time was six minutes, but this week, for some inexplicable reason, it's not producing quite the same results. Which means, more eggs. (Bradley doesn't complain.)

4. Peanut butter, or alternatively, almond butter, spread on bananas, apples, toast, or eaten straight out of the jar with a spoon. No shame here.

5. A crunchy bowl of Cheerios, eaten in my bed, at 11:00pm. Sometimes I swap them out for Rice Chex, but generally Cheerios is the only thing that satisfies that midnight snacking urge. I heart Cheerios.

6. Oranges, easy to peel and juicy to eat. Oranges are the smell and taste of winter for me. After we bought our first official bag of the season, I may or may not have cried when my kids ate the last one without asking my permission. I realize the grocery store is a mere two minutes away, but sometimes even that takes too long.

7. San Pellegrino, preferably grapefruit, sipped slowly. I am not a big carbonated beverage fan. In fact, most of the time, nothing tastes better to me than a cold glass of water. But lately, I must confess, San Pellegrinos have been hitting just the right spot, although I'm never able to finish an entire can (which usually doesn't bother Mike, unless it's grapefruit--see the problem here?).

8. Ramen noodles, yes, the kind in the 20-cent packages, with almost certainly no nutritive value. Even as my tastes have slowly refined over time, I have not been able to curb my love of cheap ramen. And lately, it's been tasting even better than usual.

9. Cheddar cheese, softened to room temperature and thickly sliced. I also won't say no to colby monterey jack or swiss or gouda or basically any cheese. Cheese might be my love language. (I also love to sprinkle it over my ramen (see above) and watch it melt to yummy gooeyness.)

10. Haribo gummy bears, eaten at my own peril since I can't seem to stop after one (or ten). I must admit to an easy-to-please, slow-to-satisfy sweet tooth. But lately, my cravings for sweets have been greatly reduced (in fact, on Halloween, I maybe ate three pieces of candy spread out over the night and then wasn't even tempted by the overflowing buckets after my kids went to bed . . . and that's not normal for me). But gummy bears? For some reason, my sweet tooth won't let go of them.

If you've been reading this and thinking, This is the most random list of food I've ever seen. Is she pregnant or something?, let me put your mind at rest and assure you that actually . . . yes, yes I am. 17 weeks, in fact.

The Book Blab Episode 10: Books and Food Plus Two Cozy Fall Recommendations

I always seem to crave a really great food book (be it memoir, nonfiction, or fiction) in November, so for this month's Book Blab, Suzanne and I decided to delve into the topic. This episode is packed with recommendations (and all of them are listed in the show notes below), and it was just too much fun chatting about one of our favorite genres. We could have gone on all afternoon!

0:30 - This month marks the one-year anniversary of The Book Blab
0:55 - All previous episodes of The Book Blab can be found on YouTube
2:30 - Today's topic: Food books!
3:32 - Favorite cookbooks . . . or not
5:35 - Food memoirs
14:14 - Nonfiction food books
20:30 - Fictional stories with memorable food scenes
26:33 - Two book recommendations for cozy November reading

• 27:33 - Suzanne's recommendation
• 29:10 - Amy's recommendation

33:20 - Conclusion

Books and links mentioned in the show:

Past episodes of The Book Blab
Garlic and Sapphires: The Secret Life of a Critic in Disguise by Ruth Reichl (Amy's review)
My Kitchen Year: 136 Recipes That Saved My Life by Ruth Reichl
Bread and Wine by Shauna Niequist (Suzanne's review)
Delancy: A Man, a Woman, a Restaurant, a Marriage by Molly Wizenberg
A Homemade Life: Stories and Recipes From My Kitchen Table by Molly Wizenberg (Amy's review)
Dinner: A Love Story by Jenny Rosenstrach (Amy's review)
How to Celebrate Everything by Jenny Rosenstrach
Make the Bread, Buy the Butter by Jennifer Reese
My Life in France by Julia Child (Suzanne's review // Amy's review)
In Defense of Food by Michael Pollan (Suzanne's review // Amy's review)
The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan
How Not to Die: Discover the Foods Scientifically Proven to Prevent and Reverse Disease by Michael Greger (Suzanne's review)
Near a Thousand Tables: A History of Food by Felipe Fernandez-Armesto
Disease-Proof Your Child: Feeding Kids Right by Joel Fuhrman
Real Moms Love to Eat by Beth Aldrich and Eve Adamson
Salt Sugar Fat: How the Food Giants Hooked Us by Michael Moss
French Kids Eat Everything by Karen Le Billon
Bringing Up Bébé by Pamela Druckerman (Amy's review) 
Delicious! by Ruth Reichl (Suzanne's review)
Farmer Boy by Laura Ingalls Wilder (Amy's review)
The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis (Amy's review)
Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling
Anne of Green Gables series by L.M. Montgomery
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl  (Amy's review)
Peace Life a River by Leif Enger (Suzanne's review // Amy's review)
Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow by Jessica Day George (Amy's review)

And now it's your turn: did we mention any of your favorites? Which food books would YOU recommend?

My Life in France by Julia Child (with Alex Prud'homme)

I like my yearly reading goals to be a nice mix of challenging and entertaining. As awesome as it would be to be really ambitious and set my sights high, I know if I load up my list with only dense, heavy works, I'll burn out very quickly and lose the joy of reading. So that is why I always include a few goals that are purely for fun.

"Read a food memoir" was one of the fun goals this year. I originally planned on reading Bread & Wine by Shauna Niequist, but when our library didn't own a copy, I switched to My Life in France.
Before picking it up, I had the very vaguest knowledge of Julia Child. I knew she was an American with a very vibrant personality who liked to cook French food. That was about it. But I soon discovered that while I was entirely accurate with my bare bones knowledge, it's the details that have made millions of people fall in love with her over the last fifty years.

The memoir begins in 1948 when Julia and Paul Child move to France. Paul works for the government and spent quite a bit of time in France during WWII. Julia has never been to France and does not speak French, but she is game to try just about any adventure. Julia is thirty six years old and has done very little cooking (French or otherwise) up to that point in her life, but she soon falls in love with French food and is determined to learn the French style of cooking. She takes many classes at Le Cordon Bleu and eventually passes the official test and becomes a graduate of the school.

From there, she begins to teach classes of her own and eventually ends up collaborating with two French women on a cookbook that aims to teach Americans the French art of cooking. After a decade of testing, tweaking, and writing, the cookbook is finally published in 1961, which happens to be about the same time that television is taking off in the United States. Julia films a few how-to cooking shows to go along with the book, and they are very well received and make her into something of an international celebrity.

I generally consider food memoirs to be fairly light reads comprised of short, comfortable essays and interspersed with tantalizing recipes, but My Life in France was a little more substantive than that and really focused on the minute details of Julia Child's life and didn't include any recipes. After only a few pages of reading, I switched to the audio version. There was just too much French in the book for this non-French speaker to muddle through. I wanted to be able to hear the names of the people, places, and recipes that were a part of Julia's life.

From the very beginning, I was inspired by Julia's zest for life. Upon arriving in France, she launches herself into French culture and customs (she can't fathom why some expats want to live with a bunch of other Americans instead of getting the full French experience). She diligently studies the language (and practices every chance she can get). Once she decides she wants to learn how to cook, she jumps in with both feet.

She's like that with everything. One time they're in England and choke down a terrible meal. She says, "It was truly horrible to eat but a wonderful cultural experience." She seems to always be looking for the silver lining. When Paul gets transferred to Marseille, she embraces the quiet change of pace. When one publisher rejects their book, she's relieved because she doesn't think it would have been a good fit anyway. When a recipe fails, she's thrilled at the process of trial and error.

For many years, she and Paul own a quiet little cottage outside Provence that they name La Peetch. When Paul's health begins to decline, Julia decides it's time to let it go. When someone asks her if she will miss it, she says, "I've always felt that when I'm done with something I just walk away from it--fin!" She just expects life to be enjoyable and exciting, and it doesn't disappoint.

One of the really interesting things about this book was catching a glimpse at the collaborative writing process in the 1960's. Julia writes Mastering the Art of French Cooking with two friends, Simca and Louisette (although Louisette doesn't contribute as much by the end). For much of the book-writing process, they don't live in the same city (and, at times, not even the same country), and so all of their correspondence happens through letters. Julia talks about "firing off" letters back and forth to each other, but I had to wonder how quickly you can fire off anything if you have an ocean between you? In this day, when you could email each other back and forth a hundred times in one day, the thought of asking a question or making a suggestion and not getting a response back for several days seemed indescribably tedious. I have to wonder if this was part of the reason the book took them a whole decade to write (not that I'm forgetting that it's 750 pages long and contains hundreds of fool-proof recipes). It's just such a different time we live in.

But the thing I loved the very most about this book was learning that Julia Child didn't settle into her true passion until she was close to forty years old. I don't know why, but I always worry that I'm not going to have enough time in my life to do everything I want to do. Sometimes I think I'm probably already too old to tackle something new. Reading this made me realize that the sky is still the limit for me. Julia didn't even know how to cook until she was 37 years old, but ten years later she had made herself an authority on the subject.

Even though I ended up listening instead of reading, I kept the book because it contains dozens of photos (including the scandalous bathtub photo that she and Paul used for their Valentine's cards) that contributed so much to giving a very candid look at Julia's life. Out of curiosity, I also had to look up Julia's early cooking videos, which were wonderfully unedited and unscripted (although I think her voice might drive me batty if I had to listen to it for very long at a time). And finally, I've bumped up Julie and Julia on my list of must-watch movies, and I'm planning to follow through over the Christmas break. In short, I just can't get enough of this intelligent, flamboyant, life-loving person.

A Homemade Life: Stories and Recipes From My Kitchen Table by Molly Wizenberg

Our flight to Australia was 12 hours long. It began at 10pm on Wednesday and ended at 8am on Friday. We crossed over the international date line sometime in the middle of the night, which effectively eliminated Thursday, November 20th, from our lives forever. (It's so weird to see that date missing from my journal, not because I forgot to write but because I didn't get to live that day.)

Several times during that endless night, I tried to begin the audio of A Homemade Life. It was dark in the cabin, and I didn't feel like being the only light disrupting people's sleep or movie watching, so I thought listening to a book would be the perfect solution. However, every time I turned it on, I fell asleep within five minutes. I couldn't fall asleep without it, but I couldn't stay awake with it, so I heard the first five minutes probably five times before giving up entirely for the rest of the trip.

When we got home, I considered just returning it to the library since it didn't seem to hold my interest very well. But I thought I should give it a fair chance in the daytime, fully awake, when my sense of time and place weren't severely warped.

And what do you know? It was actually super interesting and engaging and very enjoyable to listen to. And it's about food. Bonus.

When Molly Wizenberg was growing up, her father liked to say, "You know, we eat better at home than most people do in restaurants." (I heard that sentence almost a dozen times since she mentions it twice in the introduction, and, as I explained above, I listened to the introduction multiple times.) Her family loves food. And they love to create it, not just eat it.

Molly is the only child from her father's second marriage. She has three (much older) half siblings, but she basically grew up as an only child. She was always very close to her parents (as evidenced by an essay she wrote as a teenager describing their midnight raids on the kitchen), and so when her father is diagnosed with cancer, it is absolutely devastating.

While she certainly spends a fair bit of time on her father's illness and the effect it has on her, she also talks about the years she spent in Paris, the development of her blog, and dating her eventual husband, Brandon. Every story, regardless of the actual subject, begins and ends with food. Her wedding, for example, carries with it all the normal planning and stresses . . . but also pickled grapes. (Brandon loves vinegar, so they spent hours together pickling red onions, carrots, and grapes for their rehearsal dinner.)  I have to admit, I was more intrigued than disgusted by the thought of pickled grapes.

This book is loaded with recipes. I didn't count them all but it has to be at least 45 since there's one (or more) at the end of every chapter. (I've heard that her second book, Delancey, contains only 12 recipes, which just seems paltry when compared with this one.) Molly's descriptions are mouth-watering. She can make anything sound absolutely delicious, including the aforementioned pickled grapes.

After I finished listening, I checked out the actual book from the library because I was dying to try the "Banana Bread with Chocolate and Crystallized Ginger" (which I did, and, mmmmmm, scrumptious, it begged "to be cut into big, melty slices" just as she said it would). One of the disappointing things for me about the audio was that the recipes were not read, so even though I could usually tell which recipes Molly was sharing, and I still got her thoughts and descriptions, I didn't get to form a mental picture of the actual recipe. (Maybe you think it would be weird to hear an ingredients list being read aloud; I maybe would think that too except that when I listened to Garlic and Sapphires, every recipe was read, and I thought it was fantastic.)

(And while we're on the subject of the audio, I'll just add that the men's lines were spoken exactly as I would speak them . . . and that, unfortunately, is not a compliment.)

So yes, I would consider buying this book for the recipes alone. There are still so many that I want to try: Burg's French Toast (which I wanted to make on Christmas Day but we were just too sweeted out by that point and settled for breakfast burritos instead), Vanilla-Black Pepper Ice Cream, Slow-Roasted Tomato Pesto, and Burg's Potato Salad, just to name a few.

In all honesty, the stories, although adding interest and background to the recipes, weren't my favorite part of this book. Sometimes I found her writing style a little cheesy and trite (particularly at the ends of the chapters). And also (I hesitate even mentioning this because it sounds like I'm criticizing her as a person, which is not my intent at all), sometimes she just sounded so much like an only child that I almost couldn't take it. It was hard for me to relate to her, which definitely is not a necessity for enjoying a book, but regardless of that fact, I kept thinking, I love the way she writes about food, but I just don't think we would be friends in real life.

For that reason, it's a really hard book for me to rate. There were portions that I would definitely give five stars to but then other parts that just didn't do it for me. I'll probably settle for the nondescript, fence-sitting three and call it good. (This is why some of you have dropped rating books altogether, but I still find it mildly helpful--with a grain of salt and all that.)


Criticisms aside, I really enjoyed this book, and it once again confirmed the fact that I love, love, love food memoirs. Which is why one of my goals for the year is: read a food memoir. This one doesn't count since I read it in 2014, so I'm up for suggestions.

What's one of your favorite food memoirs?

In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto by Michael Pollan

I finished listening to this book on Mike's and my anniversary. It being a Monday, we had planned to hold off celebrating until the weekend. But then my mother-in-law was unexpectedly available to watch the three boys that evening, so we jumped at the opportunity to get away for a couple of hours.

I had just been armed with sound nutritional advice: Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.

I had spent the afternoon making healthy goals for myself.

And then . . . we decided to go out to eat at, of all places, Tucanos (a Brazilian grill), which effortlessly broke every single one of my newfound resolutions in a matter of minutes.

First we ordered Brazilian lemonades, which magically refilled themselves. There went my first resolution: Be conscious of how much you eat (or in this case, drink).

Then I filled my plate at their Salad Festival, a buffet where I probably could have stuck with basic spinach and tomatoes but instead chose cheese bread and fried bananas and crab salad, all of which led me to break my second resolution: Choose real foods with short ingredient lists.

And then the meat began to arrive. Brought out on sizzling skewers, I tried this kind and that kind; my plate filled and emptied and filled again without having to leave my seat; the servers came out in an endless stream: Bacon-wrapped turkey? Garlic sirloin? Mango shrimp? Yes, yes, and yes. And before I knew it, I had effectively broken: Eat meat as a side dish; savor your food; eat lots of produce; eat until you're 80% full.

I think the only resolution I kept was: Eat at a table. I was most definitely at a table. In fact, I could hardly heave myself out of my chair to leave said table.

Whether for good or ill, the contrast between the practical advice of this book and the practical reality of the American diet was striking and, I admit, very discomforting. I was overly self-conscious with how poorly we, as Americans, eat and why our health is failing on so many levels.

From this lengthy introduction, you probably already gained a general feel for the premise of this book. A couple of years ago, I read Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma, which was completely fascinating but also a little overwhelming and not easily applicable. This book felt much more hands-on and practical.

In the first part of the book, Pollan talks about why Americans are so messed up in their eating: why we get obsessed with certain nutrients and diets and supplements and why we are constantly trying new things but not seeing any improvement in our health.

Pollan is harsh in his criticism of nutritionists who, he says, are isolating and breaking down the components of food (the beta carotene in carrots, for example, or the antioxidants in blueberries) so much that we're losing the very essence of the food itself. Studies are now showing that such elements in isolation do not provide the same nutritional benefit that they do when combined with everything else to make a complete fruit or vegetable.

He also talked about how we are obsessed with low-fat foods with the result being that we now eat a lot of food that is chemically altered to make it low-fat, and we also feel justified in eating more of it since it is low-fat. Pollan said:

By framing dietary advice in terms of good and bad nutrients, and by burying the recommendation that we should eat less of any particular actual food, it was easy for the take home message of the 1977 and 1982 Dietary Guidelines to be simplified as follows: Eat more low-fat foods. And that is precisely what we did. We are always happy to receive a dispensation to eat more of something, with the possible exception of oat bran.

The United States is in rather a sad place because, unlike other countries such as France or Greece or Japan, we don't have a food culture. We don't take time to sit down and eat our food. We spend quite a bit less on food than other countries. And we want to be instantly satisfied. Basically, we want it fast, cheap, and fake.

In the last part of the book, Pollan breaks down his mantra: Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants. This was my favorite part of the book because it felt so hopeful to me (and perhaps also a little ridiculous in its simplicity, but hey, that's what I need sometimes). I don't have to go live on a farm in the middle of nowhere and grow or raise everything I need for my sustenance. I can just buy more produce at the grocery store. Or get a CSA box. Or plant my own garden. Even in America, where we are surrounded by lots of bad options, the good options are still readily available.

Since finishing the book three days ago, and not counting my binge at Tucanos, my most noticeable improvement in the eating department has been not eating snacks between meals (a favorite past time of mine). Since I am pregnant, I'm not going to force myself not to eat if my body is telling me I'm hungry, but even being pregnant, I have to say that the majority of my snack consumption happened just because eating sounded like fun to me.

For me, the take-home message of the book was just to be a more conscious, present eater. Consequently, I'm trying to take smaller, slower bites. I'm trying to enjoy and savor each one. I'm trying to pay attention to whether or not I'm full. I'm trying not to eat when I'm in the car or reading or perusing the internet.

In short, I'm just trying to enjoy real food . . . simply, completely, enthusiastically.

Garlic and Sapphires: The Secret Life of a Critic in Disguise by Ruth Reichl

For many years, anytime I had to list my hobbies/interests/talents on a random questionnaire, I would faithfully include "cooking" on the list. But one day, Mike blatantly and honestly told me, "You do not love to cook." He could make this judgment because he does, in fact, love to cook, and he could tell we were not having even close to the same experience in the kitchen. (He breathes in the aromas as he minces garlic and sautees onions and does a little happy dance; I observe the minutes on the clock slipping away while I practically slice off a finger chopping vegetables and take in the mess of my kitchen with a discouraged sulk.)

I do, however, love, love, love food. So if I could list "tasting and savoring" or "reading  a recipe and dreaming of eating it" or "watching with fixed fascination practically any show on Food Network" on my list of hobbies, then that would probably be a more honest indication of my relationship with food.

So did I love Garlic and Sapphires? Yes, I loved it.

Ruth Reichl was the restaurant critic for the New York Times from 1993 to 1999. A few months before beginning the job, she was on a flight and was shocked to discover that New York's best restaurants were preparing for her; they knew what she looked like and everything, from professional to personal, about her. She knew there was no way she could possibly write honest reviews if she was always getting the red carpet treatment, so she set out to create a vast array of disguises for herself--everything from a dumpy old lady to a hot platinum blonde. She was wildly successful and learned a whole lot about herself in the process.

This book was fun and interesting in so many different dimensions:

First, of course, the food dimension. I have never read anyone who can write about food the way Ruth Reichl does. It is an experience in and of itself. For example: "I tasted the linguine, fragile ribbons as delicate as butterfly wings with curls of white truffle skittering between them." Yum. My mouth watered through the whole book. Even things like sea urchins or squid ink that would almost certainly hold no appeal to me in real life sounded tantalizing.  All of the reviews really made me want to go to an expensive, well-known restaurant in New York City someday (although we would stick out like the cheapskates we are and consequently would get the worst service, I'm sure). As it was, Mike and I did go out to eat while I was in the middle of this book (a rare occurrence for us, and by our standards, it was not a dumpy restaurant), and I felt like I was enjoying the meal on a whole new level simply because I was paying attention to every detail and wishing I could dissect the food just like Ruth.

In between the restaurant reviews were sprinkled Ruth's own favorite recipes. I enjoyed these because they demonstrated Ruth's love of food in a whole different way. I tried "Nicky's Vanilla Cake" (hey, I didn't say I don't like to cook/bake--trying out a new recipe can be quite fun), and it was really spongy and yummy. Even Mike, who really doesn't like cake all that much, can't stop talking about it.

Second, there was the disguises dimension. In the course of the book, she talks about six of the different women she became over the six years she was at the New York Times. These disguises were more than a wig and makeup. She actually took on a completely different persona with each one. But what I found absolutely fascinating was the way she could see a tiny bit of herself reflected in each character. For example, "Brenda" was a flamboyant and friendly and very fun redhead. After going out as Brenda with her family, her son, Nicky, said, "I like eating with Brenda. She talks to people. Being with her is fun!" Ruth felt a little bit bad about this, but then her husband reassured her, "[Brenda] is really you. She's just you in a particularly good mood." Some of her other characters, Emily in particular, brought out her worst qualities. (And Chloe, the blond bombshell, made me the most uncomfortable, just because I could see how easily pretending to be someone you're not could lead to dangerous relationships). I loved the contrast between what she said when she was Brenda ("Brenda was my best self, the person I've always wanted to be. She was generous and funny, optimistic and smart. She was kind.") and when she was Emily ("It was extremely unpleasant to find how easily I had been able to summon this mean, petty person who was waiting inside me."). It really gave me a lot to think about--that we each have a whole mix of attributes inside us, but it really is a choice which ones we let shine through.

Finally, there was the "personal journey" dimension. When the story began, Ruth was at the height of her career. Being the restaurant critic of the New York Times? Can you climb any higher than that? But the longer she spent tasting exotic and gourmet dishes, the more she longed to be at home preparing her own food for her own family. She realized she wanted the added experience that being intimate  with her own food would bring her. She also realized that spending a good deal of her time as someone else was taking its toll. She said, "I saw that when I became Emily I had played with fire." Instead of spending her life pretending to be someone else, she wanted to work on becoming the best self she could possibly be.

My one criticism of the book is that, as so often seems to happen with memoirs, many of the events, names, and dates just didn't match up for me.There was too much jumping around for me to make a cohesive line in my mind. I don't know if I just wasn't following it correctly, but often she would talk about something new, and I would think she had already mentioned it, or vice versa, or she would mention people I didn't remember--things like that. It definitely could have been due to reader error though.

I listened to part of the book, and the narrator, Bernadette Dunne, was quite good. Even though it is nonfiction, Ruth describes so many different people (both real and created), and Bernadette Dunne was able to bring all of them to life.

I did think it was funny that while I was reading, I kept thinking, This would be such a fun job, but then I realized I could never do it since I don't drink alcohol. I had no idea how big a role alcohol plays in the melding and highlighting of different flavors. Although, Mike was quick to point out that he thinks root beer is a perfect complement to pizza, so he could totally see how wine would do the same thing. (Yes, we really are that naive.)

And so the book ends with Ruth leaving the New York Times in pursuit of some other dreams and goals. I thought it was a perfect ending and really gave this memoir a lot more depth than I was expecting. I actually read this for my book club this month, and it made for a really wonderful discussion. Mike also read it and liked it almost as much as I did. It really is so much more than a food book.

Note of caution: There is a little bit of language, including one scene with an F-word.