Wine and Garlic and Sapphires

I realize my last two posts had a little negativity floating through: not liking a wine region, referring back to a bad tasting experience. Well, I’m about to make up for it.  Please, allow me to gush.

When my friend Pam Maners told me about Ruth Reichl’s Garlic and Sapphires months ago, it sounded like a book I could curl up on the couch with a glass of wine and get into.  But as it happens, that tidbit slipped my mind until last week while waiting for a smog check.  As I walked up the library stairs, I suddenly remembered Pam’s suggestion about the book by a New York Times restaurant critic who took to wearing elaborate disguises to be able to give anonymous, more objective reviews. 

It turned out to be much more than that. 

Even though I had a list of tasks that day, I started reading and could not put it down, getting through half of it before I’d even realized. (That night, I even dreamt I was a food writer, and my reviews had been framed and hung on walls.)  I finished it Friday afternoon, and since then I’ve been telling people it was like crack.  I was addicted… stealing a few minutes before I left for work, during my lunch break, while BK cooked dinner.

Because the writing was so open and welcoming, honest and descriptive, I felt like I was right there with her, watching scenes unfold.  And the food,  oh, the food.  Whether it was intricate sushi, hash browns, or elaborate preparations of foie gras…smells, flavors, and textures came to life.  When it was good, my taste buds begged to sample, and when the food was bad, they recoiled.

It wasn’t just the food, however, it was the entire experience. Of walking to the table, ordering, chatting with the sommelier, being served, listening to others’ conversations, all described by someone who really understands food, and even better, loves it. I was imagining each place, everything from the air conditioning to the seating to the pointed stares.  In most cases, I wished I could be her dining companion.  There were times the experience was really unappealing, and I’d rather have been anywhere else.  Mostly this came from the treatment due to her disguise as an older lady or someone without much money.  Oh sure, let’s shove her in a corner or make her wait in an uncomfortable chair when a restaurant stands empty.  However, some of the awkwardness arose from Ruth allowing her disguise to take over, nastiness spilling out on those around her.  When she was rude and demanding, her dinner partners squirmed uncomfortably, as did I. 

That was maybe the best thing about the book, though.  Instead of just critiquing food, she reviewed herself, learning about her own personality by taking on that of someone else.  And I think that’s the best kind of writing, where the writers discover something about themselves and share that breakthrough with us readers.

By the way, I’ve already started another of her books: Tender at the Bone.  I’m sure it won’t be long before I tell you what I think. 

Image source: Farley Walker