Tender at the Bone
Growing up at the TableBook - 1998
A restaurant critic for "The New York Times" offers a memoir--with recipes--of a life spent as a restaurant owner, chef, and food critic, from California to New York City
Blackwell North Amer
Tender at the Bone is the story of a life determined, enhanced, and defined in equal measure by unforgettable people, the love of tales well told, and a passion for food. In other words, the stuff of the best literature. The journey begins with Reichl's mother, the notorious food-poisoner known forevermore as the Queen of Mold, and moves on to the fabled Mrs. Peavey, onetime Baltimore socialite millionairess, who, for a brief but poignant moment, was retained as the Reichls' maid. Then we are introduced to Monsieur du Croix, the gourmand, who so understood and yet was awed by this prodigious child at his dinner table that when he introduced Ruth to the souffle, he could only exclaim, "What a pleasure to watch a child eat her first souffle!" Then, fast-forward to the politically correct table set in Berkeley in the 1970s, and the food revolution that Ruth watched and participated in as organic became the norm. But this sampling doesn't do this character-rich book justice. After all, this is just a taste.
A restaurant critic for The New York Times offers a beautifully written, laugh-out-loud memoir--with recipes--of a life spent as a restaurant owner, chef, and food critic, from California to New York City. 40,000 first printing. Tour.
From the critics
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"I loved working in the restaurant with a fierceness that surprised me. There was no hierarchy: everybody did everything, from cooking the food to mopping the floor, and there was no job I didn't like, from lifting fifty-pound sacks of flour off the delivery truck to burning my hands on hot plates as a I snatched them from the dishwasher."
"It was a restaurant called Marco's, on the edge of a small square. We went down a few steps, as beautiful as jewelry. There were eggplants the color of amethysts and plates of sliced salami and bresaola that looked like stacks of rose petals left to dry. Roasted tomatoes burst invitingly and red peppers were plump and slicked with oil."
"Alice would have snickered derisively at the notion, but she was the first person I ever met who understood the power of cooking. She was a great cook, but she cooked more for herself than for other people, not because she was hungry but because she was comforted by the rituals of the kitchen."
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