X

Garlic and Sapphires: The Secret Life of a Critic in Disguise

Product ID : 18968532


Galleon Product ID 18968532
Model
Manufacturer
Shipping Dimension Unknown Dimensions
I think this is wrong?
-
1,149

*Price and Stocks may change without prior notice
*Packaging of actual item may differ from photo shown

Pay with

About Garlic And Sapphires: The Secret Life Of A Critic

Product Description Author of Save Me the Plums Ruth Reichl’s iconic, bestselling memoir of her time as an undercover restaurant critic for The New York Times Ruth Reichl, world-renowned food critic and former editor in chief of Gourmet magazine, knows a thing or two about food. She also knows that as the most important food critic in the country, you need to be anonymous when reviewing some of the most high-profile establishments in the biggest restaurant town in the world—a charge she took very seriously, taking on the guise of a series of eccentric personalities. In Garlic and Sapphires, Reichl reveals the comic absurdity, artifice, and excellence to be found in the sumptuously appointed stages of the epicurean world and gives us—along with some of her favorite recipes and reviews—her remarkable reflections on how one’s outer appearance can influence one’s inner character, expectations, and appetites, not to mention the quality of service one receives. “[A] wonderful book, which is funny—at times laugh-out-loud funny—and smart and wise.” —Jonathan Yardley, The Washington Post Review "This wonderful book is funny—at times laugh-out-loud funny—and smart and wise." — The Washington Post   "Reichl is so gifted . . . the reader remains hungry for more." —USA Today "Expansive and funny." —Entertainment Weekly From the Back Cover "This wonderful book is funny—at times laugh-out-loud funny—and smart and wise." —The Washington Post "Reichl is so gifted . . . the reader remains hungry for more." —USA Today "Expansive and funny." —Entertainment Weekly About the Author Ruth Reichl is the bestselling author of the memoirs  Tender at the Bone, Comfort Me with Apples, Garlic and Sapphires, and  For You, Mom, Finally; the novel  Delicious!; and, most recently, the cookbook  My Kitchen Year. She was editor in chief of  Gourmet magazine for ten years. Previously she was the restaurant critic for  The New York Times and served as the food editor and restaurant critic for the  Los Angeles Times. She has been honored with six James Beard Awards for her journalism, magazine feature writing, and criticism. She lives in upstate New York with her husband and two cats. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. “I’m a restaurant critic,” I told the woman in the wig shop, “and I need a disguise that will keep me from being recognized.” “That’s a new one on me,” she said. “Do you have a special restaurant you’re working on at the moment?” “Yes,” I said, remembering the fragrant aroma of the soup I had eaten on my last visit to Lespinasse. When I dipped my spoon into the broth shimeji mushrooms went sliding sensuously across my tongue with the lush texture of custard. I tasted lemongrass, kaffir lime, mushroom and something else, something that hovered at the edge of my mind, familiar but elusive. I took another taste and it was there again, that sweetness, hiding just behind the citrus. It came whirling into my consciousness and then slid maddeningly away before I could identify it. “The food was wonderful,” I told her, “but I think they made me. Everything’s been just a little too perfect. So I want a foolproof disguise.” “Try this,” she said, opening a drawer and pulling out a cascade of hair the color of Dom Perignon. As the wig caught the light the color changed from pearl to buttercup. The hair fell across my face as gently as silk. I squeezed my eyes tight, not wanting to look until it was seated right. I could feel it settle into place, feel the soft strands graze my shoulders just below my ears. “Wait!” she cried as my eyes started to open, and she leaned forward and tugged at the wig, adjusting it. “Okay,” she said at last, “you can open your eyes now.” The champagne blonde in the mirror did not seem to be wearing a wig. The hair looked real, as if it were growing out of the scalp. Even the dark eyebrows looked right, as if this woman had so much confidence she didn’t care who knew that she dyed her