The Love of My Life

And Ruth Reichl's come out with another book. I love that woman! Yes, that's right, I said it--love and woman in the same sentence. From her humonganoid jewfro to her Hemingwayesque style of writing, could there be a single person more sexy, smart, or idolizable than she? No, I think not.

First, there was Tender at the Bone, in which Reichl as a young girl finds that "food could be a way of making sense of the world. . . . If you watched people as they ate, you could find out who they were." On a personal note, my favorite part in that book was when she had a crazy party at her house one weekend (as was common since her parents would leave her with the house for days at a time) at which they ended up baking a chocolate cake! (Note: you're welcome to purchase the $5.13 used hardcover copy from bn.com for me...I will love you forever.)
Next came Comfort Me with Apples, which has tenure on my bookshelf between Dershowitz's The Case for Israel and Saul Bellow's Ravelstein...

It had been a short trip. It had been forever. When I got home the house seemed less empty and Michael less like a stranger. I was filled with a strange serenity.
"You're crazy," said my mother when I told her what I thought lay behind this extraordinary feeling. "It's all been too much for you. Have you seen a doctor?"
"No," I said. "I don't need to. I know."
"How late are you?" she asked.
"One day," I said.
"Ruthie," she lamented, "stop it. When would you have gotten pregnant?"
"When Michael and I were in the Napa Valley," I saide, certain that it was true.
"It's just wishful thinking," my mother insisted.
"I think I'll go get one of those home pregnancy kits," I said dreamily.
"Yes," she replied, "please. Get it over with quickly. The sooner you find out the truth, the less disappointed you will be."
My doctor said much the same thing when I called her. "Those home pregnancy kits are very unreliable." She sighed as if she wished she could wipe them all off the market. "You might as well come in and let us give you a real test."
That one was positive too, but she remained wary. "Don't get your hopes up," she warned. "You're forty-one years old. The chances that you will carry this baby to term are very slim. You've been through a lot. If I were you, I wouldn't tell anyone about this. Not even Michael."
"Of course not," I said. Then I got in my car and drove straight to Michael's office.
"What are you doing here?" he asked when he saw me. "Is something wrong?"
"No," I replied. "For the first time in a very long time, nothing is wrong."
"So why have you come?"
"To tell you that we're going to have a baby."
"Are you sure?" he asked.
This time I had absolutely no doubts.

I tell you, this woman rocks. And, as if just OWNING Comfort Me with Apples and getting to read her Letter from the Editor when my monthly Gourmet Magazine comes isn't enough, my parents gave me the Gourmet Cookbook autographed by my goddess herself for my birthday.

Sigh...