An impeccable, Epicurean Englishman and lifelong Francophile recounts his past pleasures in Provence, in a meditation on food, vodka, and restaurant-going that becomes a dark satire on hedonism. 75,000 first printing. $100,000 ad/promo. First serial, Granta. Tour.A gorgeous, dark, and sensuous book that is part cookbook, part novel, part eccentric philosophical treatise, reminiscent of perhaps the greatest of all books on food, Jean-Anthelme Brillat Savarin’s The Physiology of Taste. Join Tarquin Winot as he embarks on a journey of the senses, regaling us with his wickedly funny, poisonously opinionated meditations on everything from the erotics of dislike to the psychology of a menu, from the perverse history of the peach to the brutalization of the palate, from cheese as “the corpse of milk” to the binding action of blood.
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- John Lanchester
Brilliant, concise and provocative Lancaster’s novel is hardly a mystery. Although resembling a cook book (with enough directions that even professional cooks will find an interest) it does not even pretend to explore culinary territories. Qualified as a novel, its most honest, subtle attraction is as a psychological character study. Reviewers who categorize or criticize it on other terms miss the point. Comparing it to mysteries, detective stories (hard or soft boiled), classic Sherlock Holmes or recent, modern works is out…
A good read. This choice quote is from the preface: