Literary agents always natter on about wannabe authors needing a “platform” to sell a book proposal. And the shakiest one I’ve come across in a long while is a husband who reviews cookbooks for one of the last newspaper sections standing. The premise is ridiculous, that “home cooks dismiss (steak) as ‘eating out’ food” — someone has to be buying all those scary-cheap slabs of beef in the Food Shitty near me. But the more revealing evidence of how bogus this project looks is the photo in the catalog of what appears to be flank steak (because brisket isn’t a steak, no?) cut straight down like a loaf of bread. My teeth got tired just thinking of chewing a slice. And those exotic lotus roots in another photo definitely send the message that steak, as an entree, is the other cheap meat. I’ve never heard of an author being asked, “Who’s your hubby?” but maybe he actually has the power to make other editors fall in line online. Didn’t it work for Shirley Lord?