Book : Comfort Me With Apples More Adventures At The Table..

-Titulo Original : Comfort Me With Apples More Adventures At The Table (random House Readers Circle)

-Fabricante :

Random House Trade Paperbacks

-Descripcion Original:

In this delightful sequel to her bestseller Tender at the Bone, Ruth Reichl returns with more tales of love, life, and marvelous meals. Comfort Me with Apples picks up Reichl’s story in 1978, when she puts down her chef’s toque and embarks on a career as a restaurant critic. Her pursuit of good food and good company leads her to New York and China, France and Los Angeles, and her stories of cooking and dining with world-famous chefs range from the madcap to the sublime. Through it all, Reichl makes each and every course a hilarious and instructive occasion for novices and experts alike. She shares some of her favorite recipes while also sharing the intimacies of her personal life in a style so honest and warm that readers will feel they are enjoying a conversation over a meal with a friend. Review “Reichl writes with gusto, and her story has all the ingredients of a modern fairy tale: hard work, weird food, and endless curiosity.”-The New Yorker“So many memoirs annoy by telling either too much or too little. This one tells just enough....The book reads not like life described but like life lived and then shaped....Each story affirms [Reichl’s] desire to get beyond the surface, even as she celebrates its unlikely depths.”-The New York Times“Magnificent, riotous, erotic...[Comfort Me with Apples] is an extended, lilting song about lovesickness and the restorative succor of good food....Two courses of Reichl’s literary cooking will leave still-ravenous readers hoping for a third serving soon. [Rating:] A.”-Entertainment Weekly About the Author Ruth Reichl is the editor in chief of Gourmet and the author of the bestselling Tender at the Bone, a James Beard Award finalist. She has been the restaurant critic at The New York Times and the food editor and restaurant critic as the Los Angeles Times. Reichl lives in New York City. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. THE OTHER SIDE OF THE BRIDGEThe primary requisite for writing well about food is a good appetite.- A.J. Liebling Easy for him to say: He was independently wealthy. Personally, I found the primary requisite for writing about food to be a credit card.And that was a problem. I pictured myself sweeping into fabulous restaurants to dine upon caviar and champagne. Maitre d’s would cower before the great Restaurant Critic. Chefs would stand behind the kitchen door, trembling. “What is she saying?” they would whisper to my waiter. “Does she like it?” I would not betray, by word or gesture, my opinion of the meal. And when it was all over, I would throw down my card and cry “Charge it please!,” then gather my retinue and float regally out the door.Unfortunately, the first time I tried this I hit a few snags.In 1978, San Francisco’s fanciest French restaurant belonged to a chef who had cooked for the Kennedys. The valet stared at my beat-up Volvo and shook his head. He could not, he insisted, accept a car that used a screwdriver in place of a key. The maitre d’hotel was equally overjoyed by my arrival; he looked me up and down, took in my thrift-store clothing, and led me straight to the worst table, the one that shook each time a waiter came out the kitchen door. The sommelier appeared worried when I ordered the ’61 Lascombes. He had, he was sorry to inform me, sold the last bottle. He was certain that a nice little Beaujolais would make me very happy. And when the captain announced that the special of the evening was freshly made terrine de foie gras, he pointedly told me the price.The biggest humiliation, however, was yet to come. “Your credit card, madam,” said the maitre d’hotel frostily, “has been rejected.” He stood over me looking more smug than sorrowful; clearly he had been expecting this all along.“It couldn’t be!” I insisted. “I just got it yesterday.”“It says, madam,” the maitre d’hotel went on, “that you are over your limit.” He leaned down and hissed menacingly. “Do you know what your limit is?”