Manhattan has a Mercaptan leak? I'm so glad I'm not living in Chelsea anymore.
I finished Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain and The Girl's Guide to Hunting and Fishing by Melissa Bank yesterday. Not exactly Proust but both had their charms. After all, who of us doesn't like a bad-ass who knows his way around the kitchen? Or... well, Bank makes some really bizarre narrative and structural choices (a sudden shift into all second-person, for example) and considering the book's heroine is an associate editor at some major publishing firm, it could have used a bit more, oh, I don't know, critical thought. Like, for example, how it really doesn't live up to its title until maybe the last chapter. The parts in which the story is clearly following Jane Rosenal, the heroine, are fine, but that last chapter, when the reader isn't certain what's going on, considering the odd "you" chapter awhile back, seems tacked on to give it a nice, happy, if strained ending. Anyhow, if you're still tempted to read it, and it's not lacking utterly in merit, I would suggest borrowing it from the library or a friend, rather than buying it. KC is far more entertaining and, despite some copyediting issues of the gratuitous carelessnes kind, is the better book.
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