I finally finished reading the last half of the last chapter of Ruth Reichl's memoir of being
the restaurant critic for the New York Times, Garlic and Sapphires. Let's not
get into why, despite the book being very light, fast, and easy to read, it took me a good six months from the time I
started to finish it. I have moved on to my next late-night read, The
Devil's Picnic by Taras Grescoe, which couldn't be a more drastic 180 degrees in style than a book could
be.
The book is basically a one year trip with the author in search of "forbidden fruit" - those fruits that are highly sought after but difficult to obtain, and oftentimes deadly either because they are physically harmful, or they're illegal in the countries where they are found. Grescoe tries everything from 186-proof Norwegian moonshine, to poppy-seed crackers that are banned as "narcotics" in Singapore, to bull's testicles stewed in garlic and gravy. Basically, this guy is like a coked-up Tony Bourdain.
I've just started the book and so far, love it. I hope I make it out alive.
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