Seems like there should be a bit of Irish witticism twisted out of this title, like “Be an angel in the kitchen, but a devil in the bedroom.” But in fact, it’s the latest food memoir that caught my eye, and if truth be told (and as evidenced and called-out on by my husband), I bought this book for its cover. I was actually looking to see if the debut Molly Wizenberg (Orangette–whom I soooo want to be!) book, A Homemade Life was out, but I was a tad too early, so I thought about getting a book Hannah recommended, The School of Essential Ingredients, but felt guilty because she specifically told me to check it out at the library, so I didn’t even start looking, but then I saw this devil peering out at me from the shelves. Oh, those wily booksellers, turning the cover outward, eye level to short middle-aged women susceptible to the pot hurling charms of Bad Boys Who Cook!
I’ve just finished another book that I must say I didn’t enjoy (seems to be a streak of those lately, causing one to wonder if maybe it’s just me…), but give me a good food memoir and I’m rubbing-my-belly-happy! A few of the genre tucked around the house are all the Ruth Reichl books, Bill Buford’s Heat, of course the bad boy chef himself, Anthony Bourdain, a lovely book by Colette Rossant called Apricots on the Nile, and a recent gift from Joe, a collection of food essays, Eat, Memory. I’m saving The Devil in the Kitchen for this weekend, though. In the meantime, I’m content to just walk by with a stealthy glance at the cover.