A collection of essays by one of America's best known food writers, that are often more autobiographical or historical than anecdotal musings on food preparation and consumption. The book includes culinary advice to World War II housewives plagued by food shortages, portraits of family members and friends (with all their idiosyncrasies) and notes on her studies at the University of Dijon, in France. Through each story she weaves her love of food and passion for cooking, and illustrates that our three basic needs as human beings--love, food and security--are so intermingled that it is difficult to think of one without the others.
Let's set the scene...
In an uncharacteristic fit of trying to be social with the Chilton jokers, Rory and Lane attend a party at Madeline's house. In reality, the catalyst is her split from Dean... so why not try to feel better by surrounding yourself with people who dislike you. And Tristan.
As Lane starts to falls for a FKD (Future Korean Doctor) that her parents would approve of (the horror!), Rory goes back to being typical Rory and sits in a corner reading. The book is The Art of Eating by M.F.K. Fisher.
Okay, let's start by saying I am no foodie. As is evidenced by the size of my ass, I thoroughly appreciate food (I, unfortunately, do not have the infamous Gilmore metabolism). However, I'm not picky (again... as you can see from my backside). I love a 12 course culinary masterpiece, but I'm just as happy with a giant bowl of Kraft Deluxe mac n' cheese (the horizontal box... not the vertical box!) mixed with some Big Y brand salsa. So, while M.F.K. Fisher's desire to only eat the most exquisite food the world has to offer differs from my own refined palate, I truly appreciated the passion and fervor with which she loves something too many people simply see as sustenance. Although there may have been chapter upon chapter devoted solely to the oyster, she writes about an individual food with such beautiful words that you can't help but want to write your own Ode to a Mollusk. Her prose was incredible and interspersing it with recipes (ranging between the gloriously good and the hideously bad) broke up a topic that would normally be difficult to read an entire book on.
As I was reading, I kept telling myself that I would try a few of Fisher's favorite recipes found throughout the volume. But let's be honest... it ain't going to happen. I can cook... I just detest doing it. I'd rather hit up Micky D's dollar menu. But a girl can dream!
Who do I see reading this in the Stars Hollow gazebo?