You Should Read "Blood, Bones, and Butter."

Still got one or two signed ones left.

At her event with Books & Books, Gabrielle Hamilton claimed that as much as she would like to write a novel, she could not see herself writing fiction.  I've no reason to doubt her, but my wish to read more of her voice makes me refuse to believe it.  It would be a loss.

Vegetarian blogger Ellen Kanner wrote a great review for the Miami Herald.

I gave it 4.5 on Goodreads, and also mentioned here at SwF&F how the book helped me propose to Becky.

There are many things to love about Blood, Bones, and Butter.  The stories, the writing style, her lack of pretension, Italy, Greece, New York City, the way she effortlessly deflates the worship of celebrity chefs.  I pull this quote because I like what she does, flirting with run-on to help communicate that feeling of being forced from bed and into life before you're ready, culminating in my favorite metaphor for grogginess that I've ever read:

He was not yet awake when I called at seven thirty and had that funny sleeper's defense where you pretend that you are wide awake in spite of having just been roused and you want to sound like you know exactly where is where, who is who, and what is what when in fact you are still wearing a narcotic brain helmet of cement and foam.

Read it.  There are a lot more riches where that came from, I promise.