Ethereal mashed potatoes, langoustines in Moët, cherries fit for a queen. N. M. Kelby’s novel, White Truffles in Winter is a sumptuous feast, the celebration of food and table only outdone by the seductive women who surround French chef Auguste Escoffier. Hungry? Read on.
If all the recent talk about the iPad and the Amazon/Macmillan ebook pricing catfight has you longing for a simpler time, look no further than this ode to the deckle edge on The Millions: Opening a book can already feel like opening a gift. Armed with a knife and freeing the pages and the story hidden beneath the folds, it becomes something more, “a penetration of its secrets” and an act of discovery, shot through with a suggestion of violence and danger or of the painful gestation of the words themselves. This act of cutting open pages to read a […]
