The world needs another food dirge like it needs more genetically modified soybeans. Anyone halfway sentient knows the situation is dire and getting grimmer as the mad cows and microwave pizzas and breakfast Whoppers keep coming. But Gina Mallet’s first book is nothing like its ominous title. (more…)
My most literary friend, a novelist who puts his advances into tangibles, once asked me, after yet another inflated check for yet another mediocre meal in still another trendy restaurant: “Don’t you ever eat in a dive?” I recall getting rather huffy but then conceding, “No, not in the alleged First World.” Let’s be serious. I was toilet-trained in an outhouse; I was weaned on beans and cornbread off a wood-burning stove — I need a certain level of comfort with my food anymore. But clearly I’m much less choosy with books, since I thoroughly enjoyed one most creme brulee eaters would write off as so much Colombo frozen yogurt. (more…)