2022 reading challenge category: A book with a recipe in it

Would I have liked Ruth Reichl and wanted to be friends with her during this period of her life? No. But damn that woman can write about food, and I think she's pretty aware of the fact that she made some not-great choices, but that they are what they are now, and the only way out is through, and that's a self-reflection that I like.

Ruth paints pictures and evokes flavors and textures with her words. But this book was far less satisfying than her Garlic and Sapphires. Here, she's still finding her voice and name dropping way more than is ever appropriate, and as the title implies, sick for love. Her angsting and restlessness got old but I still like her spritly way with words.
2.5/5 stars

I am reading all three of her books and pretending they are one long book. I like them more than most memoir-type books since the author lacks the typical need to jam in every story that might seem interesting or impressive. Slow-paced, easy reads. Lots of food and wine talk, which I can get behind.

A constant theme through restaurant critic Ruth Reichl’s memoirs Comfort Me With Apples is of food and cooking being therapeutic: it helps her go through difficult times, both professional and personal. Chocolate cake for when she can't figure whether to stay with the husband she is still so deeply attached to, or move in with her lover. Crab cakes for when she can't decide if she should take up a new job or not. Mushroom soup to help her and her mother get over the death of Reichl’s father.

Set in the late 1970s (beginning in 1978) and extending over part of the following decade, Comfort Me With Apples forms Reichl’s memories of those years. The reviews, the interesting restaurants she not only ate at but in some cases got to help set up. The chefs, the experimentation, the excitement about new techniques, new ingredients, ‘new’ cuisines.

For me, the food aspect of this book was what made me give it the two stars. Had it not been for the food, I'd have left it at one star. Because when I'm reading a book by a food critic, by someone for whom food is such an important part of life—I want to read about food. I am not even slightly interested in whom she slept with, why she and her husband—whom she was so very devoted to, she can't stop dwelling on it—cheated on each other repeatedly, or how sex with Michael felt. Puh-leez. Sadly, these very intimate reminiscences of Reichl’s are what form the bulk of the book; the food interrupts these only now and then, and then only briefly, before Reichl plunges into more personal stuff all over again.

On the plus side, there are interesting little glimpses into the food scene in the 70s and 80s, and how very different it is from today (a food critic who has no idea what balsamic vinegar is? Or Szechuan peppercorns? Unimaginable today). Similarly, a lot of the food Reichl describes—and the recipes—are often markedly different from modern cooking: there’s very little of the contrasting textures and flavours, the freshness provided by salads and vegetables and herbs that we expect in Western food today. Instead, there's an emphasis on creamy, buttery, cheesy stuff that I personally didn't find especially appealing (there's a recipe for a Swiss pumpkin, invented by Reichl herself, which really put me off).

The next time I want to read a book by an American food writer, I shall probably turn to Michael Pollan or Jeffrey Steingarten: I prefer their idea of what a good food book needs in addition to the food per se. The history of food, the politics of food, the sociology, as Reichl mentions at one point in her book. Not the intimate details of the writer’s love life.

I'm loving this - listening to it on tape as I had a long drive this weekend.

Sometimes I think Reichl is not much of a novelist, but her story is rich and interesting, so what it lacks in literary style it makes up for in compelling storyline. She's had an interesting life.

4.00

I really enjoy Ruth's writing style and her descriptions of food are amazing. I might not want to actually eat what she is eating but the way she herself enjoys the food and describes the experience almost makes me think that maybe I could try it someday. I did not enjoy this book as much as her first memoir, Tender at the Bone, simply because the subjects in this second memoir are more challenging. She discusses the death of her father, the extremely slow breakdown of her first marriage and divorce, the frustration of infertility and a botched adoption attempt. But through it all, food gives her a center and a supporting cast of friends to walk with her through the hard times.

I'm not a foodie, but I was totally charmed by this book. My wife is a great cook -- a former chef and assistant pastry chef -- and she told me I might enjoy this book after she read it. And she was right. What an amazing life Ruth Reichl has led. And while this book isn't perfect, the writing is generally crisp and entertaining, and Reichl usually knows how to end her anecdote quickly enough before it gets stale.

So, the story. Here's a woman raised by bohemian parents in Greenwich Village in the 1950s who goes to college and winds up living in a group house/commune in Berkeley, Calif., in the early 70s. She has five housemates, one of whom is her husband, who is makes "wind sculptures." Those are basically wires strung up to make sound when wind blows. This makes her job as a freelance writer seem downright pedestrian. She's, doing some restaurant reviews and whatever else she can pick up. Since their share of the rent is $45 per month (!!!), they're getting by, but barely. They believe in using as little as possible on the planet, so at times they were getting their food by dumpster-diving for produce thrown out by supermarkets. Clothing was thrift store stuff, wine was homemade, and the heat was turned on only when they could see their breath.

She liked living that way, but she was obsessed with food, too. And she landed a chance to become a restaurant reviewer, just as San Francisco (and California in general) was becoming the heart of an emerging American food scene. So, to the consternation of her housemates, she began eating at the poshest restaurants on the West Coast, writing reviews for the richest in society. (They didn't complain too much, as they each bought one pair of nice clothes from the thrift store so they could eat with her on the magazine's expense account -- a commonplace need for food critics so that they can try a lot of food and see how the restaurant's staff handles complexity.)

Most of the book is about Reichl's love of food, great meals she had with famous chefs on the rise, like Alice Waters and Wolfgang Puck. And it's about her growing knowledge of food and wine, both her successes at impressing smart food people and her failures of naivete and inexperience. Though I don't really care for the descriptions of the food very much, you do get the sense of luxury and wonder that we all feel when we do have a particularly enjoyable meal. And she has adventures in food -- China, Thailand, Paris, etc., Very cool stuff.

But the other part of the book is what makes this much more than a mere menu list. Because Reichl didn't change her bohemian ways as she moved in the glamour circles of the magazine industry and luxury eating. She had an affair with a fellow food writer/wine critic, who she followed on a whim to Paris and spent two weeks at Michelin restaurants. She had an even more passionate affair with a filmmaker, who later became her 2nd husband. They were on-again, off-again as she toggled between him and her husband, who suddenly became an in-demand artist (and admitted he'd had about a dozen affairs). She and her 2nd husband adopted a girl from Mexico, and then had a highly public court battle with the birth mother when the woman wanted the baby back; Reichl and her husband lost. And she mourned the death of her beloved father, and was left with the emotional care of her manic-depressive mother in NYC. In fact, the book says at the end that she is living in NYC, which I assume was done to help out her mom. It's an amazing life.

Now, a couple other comments. In light of the stuff we're seeing now (late 2017) about women and their treatment in the work place, it's uncomfortable to read Reichl saying that the first guy she had an affair with was her boss...and she slept with him on the night they first met. Really. They went to dinner, and he said to her at end of the night, leave your car and you're coming with me...to his bed. She didn't seem to think this was a problem, except that she was cheating on her husband. She kept sleeping with her boss for about 6 months, though he was engaged to a woman he ultimately married -- and didn't tell her he even had another woman (or women).

Then, with the 2nd guy, she literally walked out of a restaurant with several other people, started making out in the elevator, and went to his apartment. This was the 2nd time she'd ever seen him. Either she's an incredibly passionate person who has the luck to meet astounding men, or she's being pushed around by men in power. I think it's more of the latter, and it reflects on the time in which she was living -- that is, she made the best out of a situation in which women basically had to sleep with men in authority. In fact, she mentions at least a dozen times in the first half of the book that she's concerned about her frizzy hair. This is a smart and capable woman who seemingly has carved out a life that doesn't follow convention (living in a freaking commune in Berkeley), and she's worried about her hair! It's sort of sad.

More sadly, Reichl shows no evidence of noticing this contradiction. Her affairs are, in her words, glorious at every moment: sex, food, tons of alcohol, more sex, beautiful California scenery, more sex.

On the other hand, her actual relationships are hard as they are for any of us, with fights and silences and sadness and conflicting priorities. So that part is real, and it's the more powerful part of the book.

The right book read at the right time. ❤️

I liked the real foodie parts of this book, but it pretty quickly devolved into the sort of memoir where I felt somewhat aghast for Ruth’s friends, family, former and current spouses, and lovers. Yikes!

TMI!

It would have comforted me if she had stuck an apple in her mouth rather than telling me quite so much about her infidelities.

[SPOILERS….]

I don’t know why this is so…she just seemed so stupidly self-destructive at some points and yet constantly fell forward into better and better jobs. I really was not happy to find out at the end of the book that she was going to achieve her goal of having a child

I don't read a lot of memoirs and I don't care about chefs or fine cuisine, but this one was a book club pick, and I'm really glad. It was a beautiful glimpse into author/foodie Ruth Reichl's life in the late 1970s and 1980s. How fascinating. She mixes anecdotes of her time as a food critic with really intimate stories about her personal life. I was captivated, reading about her travels and various romances, but it was her story of Gavi, the baby she almost adopted, that made me furious and broke my heart and endeared me to Ruth Reichl forever. Have you read this memoir? I'd love to hear your thoughts.

This is so good — she's so heartfelt and so unafraid to break down the myth of the mighty food critic. Obviously Reichl is one of the greatest food writers in the world. She's also one of the best memoirists.

I am an avid foodie. I love to cook for family and friends. I enjoy seeing the smiles on their faces as they try something new. I was the oldest of eight kids with two working parents. At about age 10-12, my mother began depending on me to start dinner for the family before she came home from work. I loved helping and experimenting in the kitchen. When we had family gatherings at my grandmother's house, sometimes with 20-25 guests, I enjoyed jumping in on the preparations, peeling and chopping vegetables, adding spices and seasonings, even learning to mix cocktails, very fashionable in the 1950-60s.

I've subscribed to and read food and cooking magazines for years, enjoying the stories of food, the food photography and learning new recipes. Gourmet and Saveur are among my favorites. I scour each issue for days when they arrive, not only reading the stories, but reading every advertisement. I discovered Ruth Reichl when she was editor at Gourmet magazine. I enjoyed her comments and thoughts about the world of food, expanding my mind beyond the simple recipe. By accident, I discovered she had other writings, finding her book Tender at the Bone at a book sale. I've since found others of her books, including this one, enjoying them all. In Comfort Me with Apples, I've enjoyed learning about the locavore movement in N. Ca before the innovators became famous. A most enjoyable read!