Garlic and Sapphires
Book Choice for April 2021: Garlic and Sapphires, R. Reichl, 2005.
In April I read what can only be termed a “food memoir” by Ruth Reichl, who served as the restaurant reviewer for the New York Times in the late 90s. It has a phenomenal title, which I have to say really drew me to the book, and I didn’t regret it: it was very fun, and seriously, I ate it all up. (I’m sorry, but I did).
It was a heavenly respite from normal life, entering into the glittering world of swanky New York eateries, gosh, it was delightfully decadent. It actually does have a bit of a plot, there is forward movement, rather than just descriptions of lavish banquets—and excellent griping about faux pas made in either the food or service—it is just—a trip out of one’s own body, into a world I don’t expect to experience, or even feel the need to, but I really appreciated that Reichl has brought high-society down to us regular people—just for a taste.
As I read it so quickly, I rather wished that the book was longer, but it does tell a full tale, of one lady’s stint at a “the greatest newspaper in the world.” (Ok NY, we see you, you are indeed the omphalos of the world, there could never be another, etc., etc.) Of course, I had my quibbles with this book. It seems almost impossible to believe that a food writer was so famous that she could be recognized by sight before she had moved to New York to take up her work there—but I guess that happened. And it is also hard to believe that the many, many disguises (not to mention their very strange psychological effects upon the author) that Reichel donned were never rumbled or seen through.
Towards the end of the book the author intersperses a few homely stories of cooking big vats of food at her uni (Berkeley) for legions of friends and acquaintances (she didn’t specify, but it sounded like she was barefoot while doing this) and yet…in the first part of the book it seems that she was the only food writer seemingly under consideration for the coveted post at the NYT…it just seems like there might be some network of connections that is being omitted here—this is reaffirmed by the fact, dropped casually at one point, that her husband, a war reporter, had an interview with Osama Bin Laden before the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks that was canned by the bigwigs upstairs (or something to that effect). Is she saying…that her husband…could have influenced…could have been one of the few who suspected….??? It’s a very big thing, but only hinted at.
Reichl has published several books, seemingly all to do with cooking and food, so, even though I am new to her oevre obviously she is an expert in her field. Perhaps she and her husband really were the ‘average people’ that they are presented as in the book—for example, Reichl took particular care to tailor her reviews of elite eateries to the readers who will never go to any of them—and I’m still not sure whether I find that thoughtful and aware or bloody patronising. The circles they travel in…are just so esteemed… It raises a few questions in me personally, as to how one enters there.
However, the book is quite fun, although rather mean-spirited in a few places, kind of in the right amounts, to avoid saccharine sweetness. I wasn’t thinking to write about it on the blog, but it was a book I sought out on purpose, and it did give me a bit of joy, as well as some serious cravings! (Squid ink, anyone?!) It basically scratched an itch.