“The wine comes in 250-ml bottles, or by the carafe, your choice. You take a sealed bottle. Vin du pays from Hérault, 11.5 percent alcohol, with a picture of grapes on the label. Screw top. There’s also a liter bottle for drunks. The wine has the power to humiliate you. Like truth serum, it scours, strips, reveals. It flows into you like a kind of blood, spreading pain. The soul plunges into it. You grimace as the first swallow announces the metamorphosis. The wine is like a developer solution specially formulated for the wretched misery we stew in. The photograph that emerges isn’t a pretty one: a guy sitting in front of his cafeteria tray, head down, grinning at his neighbors’ tired jokes, his heart in his mouth. (from “Cafeteria Wine” by Laurent Graff)”

Book Review:

Review by Devon Shepherd AUG 13, 2011)

According to Richard Wrangham, a biological anthropologist at Harvard, when Homo erectus, already master over fire, threw some tubers on a spit, freeing up nutrients and easing digestion, teeth, jaws and intestines shrunk, paving the way for the evolution of larger brains, and us, Homo sapiens. In the wilds of the prehistoric world, it’s likely our human ancestors gathered around a single fire for safety, and a communal feast, suggesting that our need to sit and break bread with each other – rather than scarfing down food, alone, in a moving car –is an ancient memory buried deep in our brains. And so, it’s little wonder that meals, and the rituals surrounding them, are of unmatched importance in human society; can you think of a holiday that isn’t centered around food, if not in the form of a celebratory feast than in a ritualized period of denial? If food – it’s acquisition and preparation – is arguably the foundation of human evolution, it’s also the cornerstone of our culture, and there is no better way to familiarize oneself with a foreign country than through the idiosyncrasies of its cuisine.

No other country has mastered this relationship between ritual and sustenance, nutrition and indulgence, quite like the French, and, for better or worse, French cuisine is inextricably linked to our concept of French culture. The caricatured Frenchman, sporting a mustache, sailor-stripes and a beret, brandishes a wine glass and a baguette. In much the same way that, from Bogota to Beijing, the Golden Arches signals a (perhaps comfortingly familiar) McDonalds, rattan-backed chairs, red banquettes, polished wood and brass rails characterize reproductions of the French brasserie all over the world. But without resorting to these cultural clichés, French Feast: A Traveler’s Literary Companion, a collection of short stories translated from French, provides a window into French culture through its relationship to food.

William Rodarmor, the editor of this collection, notes just a few of the French words that have entered our culinary lexicon: entrée, quiche, escargot, crepe, hors d’oeuvre, petits-fours, Bearnaise, baguette, croque-monsieur, vinaigrette, pate, maitre’d, sous-chef, “and even the word cuisine itself!” To Mr. Rodarmor’s list, I would add: à la carte, à la mode, au gratin, soup du jour, nouvelle cuisine; and I’m sure you’ll be able to add your own too—there’s just so many of them. My pocket copy of Gastronomic Dictionary French-English was indispensable for dining in France; from cuts of meat to sauces and preparation techniques, the French language is far more nuanced when it comes to food. So needless to say, it should be no surprise that there are enough (good!) French stories to compile a collection thematically centered on food.

The collection is broken into sections, each its own component of a long French meal: Appetizers; Entrees; Main Courses; Libations; and Desserts; the stories of each section linked by a single theme; memory, manners and society, family, fantasy, and love and sex, respectively.

In “The Taste of New Wine” (Mariette Condroyer), a dying man longingly eavesdrops on his doctor’s lively household through the door connecting the doctor’s examination room to the kitchen. The aroma of the doctor’s wife’s cooking both fortifies and weakens the old man, filled with longing for a life he knows he’s soon to leave. In “Pfefferling” (François Vallejo), a young man remembers a summer spent at a hotel in Switzerland, quite close to the sanatorium featured in Thomas Mann’s The Magic Mountain, a book the boy has just finished and loved. When an elderly German countess offers to walk with him to the sanatorium, the boy agrees, but when they reach the buildings, the boy doesn’t want to go inside, “afraid that like Hans Castorp, [he] would never come out again.” Instead, the countess offers to show him the cemetery out back, where they harvest the chanterelles that grow in abundance on the graves for an omelet back at the hotel. The boy has difficulty swallowing “these chanterelles of death, these fleshy mushrooms swollen with wet and earth and mixed with the rotting flesh of old Davos and Magic Mountain TB lungers.” But, all too often in life, it’s through the memories of those meals we never wanted, or of things too mundane to notice– the smell of onions frying in a young wife’s kitchen – that we come to appreciate the miracle of our lives.

To judge by two of the best stories in the next section, one would think that politesse had had the sole purpose of keeping gourmands from their food. “The Plate Raider” (Thanh-Van Tran-Nhut) is the hilarious account of Ernest Pardieu whose “either stingy or unskilled” mother subjected him to a childhood of watery puree and leathery steak, so that poor little Ernest had little choice by to make sure he never missed dinnertime at the houses of friends with “cordon bleu mothers.” From there, it was just a few years and a few crashed parties until he perfected his “art of infiltration,” setting him on his way to a career as a “professional plate raider.” But who can really blame him, faced with such mouth-watering fare as “ miniature vol-au-vent garnished with bits of scallop and seasoned with a drop of apple pommeau,” “smoked salmon with guacamole and green tea mousses,” “four-spiced foie-gras with crushed pear drizzled with honey,” and “frogs’ legs fricassee in a hazelnut croute.” A real gourmand, the only thing Eric can’t stomach are peanuts, which of course he mistakenly eats, at a funeral, in what can only be described as just desserts.

A chapter from “Belle De Seigneur “(Albert Cohen) works as a wonderful set-piece, the excerpted section a brilliant comedy of manners; Adrien, a clerk at the League of Nations, awaits his boss’ arrival, with his socially ambitious mother, Madame Deume and his long-suffering (and hungry) father, Monsieur Deume . One can’t help but feel for the poor Monsieur Deume who, after an interminable afternoon of fussy preparations, is told he won’t get to eat any of the sumptuous feast laid out for their guest but rather will have to eat “bread and cheese and the three ham sandwiches left over from lunch” standing at the sideboard. And as Madame Deume informs her husband that their feast will be wrapped up and put in the fridge to entertain whichever illustrious guest she can persuade to join them for dinner the following evening, you know he wishes he had the chutzpah to raid the fridge after his wife has gone to bed.

Those closest to us are often the ones responsible for much of our pain – aren’t most murders committed by loved ones? – and two stories in the next section highlight the dark undercurrents that course through our most intimate relationships. In “Tears of Laughter ” (Nadine Ribault), a Sunday lunch reveals complicated alliances and hidden resentments of an extended family. In “Brasserie” (Marie Rouanet), a woman settles in to enjoy a solitary meal, with a glass of wine and good book, only to be distracted by a family with a horribly abusive patriarch.

The Libations section centers on fantastical tales, tales like “The Legend of Bread” (Michel Tournier), an origin myth for those wonderfully crusty-on-the-outside-soft-on-the-inside baguettes and pains aux chocolats; or “Oysters” (Fabrice Pataut) told from the point of view of – wait for it – an oyster! Perhaps most charming story in this section, “Eating” (Cyrille Fleishman), imagines a Yiddish poet who manages to pack his readings to the rafters (a standing-room only poetry reading? – fantasy, indeed!). Of course, most poets aren’t handing out delectable pastrami sandwiches .

No meal is truly complete without dessert, and like a warm moelleux au chocolat or a silken crème brûlée, “Come and Get It” (Tiffany Tavernier), a steamy account of a couple’s last meal together, satisfies just as naughtily. “Porcupine Stew” (Calixthe Beyala) is more refreshing fare –ginger-lime sorbet perhaps – that delights as it piques the palate for the novel its excerpted from, How To Cook Your Husband The African Way, detailing the sexually charged tension between a woman in love and her lover’s lonely mother.

The collection runs the stylistic gamut, from realism to fantastical, and most stories would be better described as vignettes than fully developed short stories, the kind of book that weathers being picked up (on a train, say) and put down again (because there’s no shortage of fascinating things to do in, say, Paris) only to be picked up again (one lazy Sunday afternoon at a café nursing an espresso) some time later. Whereabouts Press is a house devoted to published literary travel companions, and I couldn’t agree more with their claim that, “Good stories reveal as much, or more, about a locale as any map or guidebook.” As for this book, I can’t think of better companion for trip to France, armchair or otherwise.

AMAZON READER RATING:	from 1 readers
PUBLISHER:	Whereabouts Press (June 28, 2011)
REVIEWER:	Devon Shepherd
AVAILABLE AS A KINDLE BOOK?	Not Yet
AUTHOR WEBSITE:	Q& A with William Rodarmor on FaceBook
EXTRAS:	Sample
MORE ON MOSTLYFICTION:	Read our review of: French Women Don’t Get Fatby Mireille Guiliano Monsoon Diaryby Shoba Narayan The Cyclist by Viken Berberian

Bibliography:

• France: A Traveler’s Literary Companion (2008)
• French Feast: A Traveler’s Literary Companion (June 2011)

“Most people remember where they lost their virginity but few remember as much about the spot as Robo. He remembered, for example, that it was a twelve percent downhill grade toward the southwest and that the soil under Vivi was ten percent sand with a gravel subsoil and a strong limestone content held together by coarse silt.” — from Orangina

Book Review:

Review by Maggie Hill  (DEC 8, 2010)

Most readers would consider this a book of short stories. But the title sports a subhead that reads, “A Novel in Sixteen Parts.” So, for the sake of the book’s integrity, we’ll call it a novel. (It’s a book of short stories, though.)

The 16 stories gathered together here in Edible Stories are organized around some form of food and/or eating theme, but it’s never heavy-handed or in-your-face. Kurlansky uses food as a way into the story, not as the thing he wants to explore. Food creates a kind of bond around which the characters interact; it’s natural and normal – until it’s crazy.

In “Crème Brulee,” the main character has a kamikaze fear of said dessert. To describe it would diminish it, so just chew on the idea of a woman who fears that the glazing on the top of this delicious dessert is actually a toxin created to poison her. Kurlansky takes Emma, the petrified eater, through a love affair and subsequent marriage built on serious food neurosis. It’s hilarious.

“Osetra” is about a thief who steals caviar right from under the delicacy counter of various high-end food emporiums. The twist here is that a trio of New York Puerto Rican thieves play a bait-and-switch scam in delis – two distract, one steals – until one of them discovers caviar. Once he does, he’s hooked: “Often, later in his life, Wonderbread would recall as formative that instant when he first tasted osetra caviar. That was back when he brought caviar to the barrio.” Wonderbread, in case you are wondering, is the main character. He’s a lovable looter who ends up slurping his osetras right out of the jar before he even gets out of the store – or caught by security.

Kurlansky’s a good writer; each story has a clear line of sight, the scenes have excellent timing, and the overall effect is cheering. Kind of like having a good meal – you can savor and enjoy, go at your own pace, and possibly share it with someone else.

I was reading “Hot Dog,” a story about a first date in Yankee Stadium, and shared some of it with my son, who was home from Boston for the weekend. The Yanks were playing the Red Sox (in the story), and I thought he’d get a kick out of it. He did, until I read: “This was going to be a pitcher’s duel – Martino Miranda for the Yankees and Blanky Barnes for the Sox.” Turns out, Kurlansky gave the pitchers fictitious names. Who knew? The names have a musical believability that I would have bought if my son hadn’t scrunched up his face and said something like, “Pftshtik!” But the names — Martino Miranda and Blanky Barnes — sound exactly right, don’t they?

Now, I’m not trusting Kurlansky in this story, so when I come across “vomitoria” it sounds a little sketchy. I called a friend of mine whose brother was involved with the construction of the new Yankee Stadium. (Hey, reviewers work hard.) Yankee vomitoria is the same as any stadium vomitoria – it’s the passageway that seems to go under the stadium seats, enabling throngs of people to leave at one time. It’s used correctly in the story. Though, of course, now I have to look up the mythical idea of the Roman vomitoria…..

It’s not necessary to do any work at all reading Edible Stories. If you want to figure out how it’s a novel, then you can certainly find the characters that show up again in several stories, or locate the running themes embedded in the narrative. Or you can just sit down and be served.

AMAZON READER RATING:	from 4 readers
PUBLISHER:	Riverhead Trade (November 2, 2010)
REVIEWER:	Maggie Hill
AVAILABLE AS A KINDLE BOOK?	YES! Start Reading Now!
AUTHOR WEBSITE:	Mark Kurlansky
EXTRAS:	Reading Guide and Excerpt
MORE ON MOSTLYFICTION:	More linked stories: The Origin of Stars by Katharine Haake Where the God of Love Hangs Out by Amy Bloom

Bibliography:

• The White Man in the Tree and Other Stories (2000)
• Boogaloo on 2nd Avenue: A Novel of Pastry, Guilt and Music (2005)
• Edible Stories: A Novel in Sixteen Parts (2010)

Nonfiction:

• A Continent of Islands: Searching for the Carribean Destiny (1992)
• A Chosen Few: The Resurrection of European Jewry (1994)
• Cod: A Biography of the Fish That Changed the World (1997)
• The Basque History of the World: The Story of a Nation (1999)
• Salt: A World History (2002)
• Choice Cuts: A Savory Selection of Food Writing from Around the World and Throughout History (2002)
• 1968: The Year That Rocked the World (2004)
• Nonviolence: The History of a Dangerous Idea (2006)
• The Big Oyster: History on the Half Shell (2006)
• The Last Fish Tale (2008)
• The Food of a Younger Land (2009)
• The Eastern Stars: How Baseball Changed the Dominican Town of San Pedro de Macoris (2010)
• Hank Greenberg: The Hero Who Didn’t Want to Be One (2011)
• Birdseye: The Adventures of a Curious Man (May 2012)

“Every farm, like every everything, has flaws, is subject to accidents, sometimes doesn’t work as it should. Life overflows with imperfections, but some imperfections matter more than others. How imperfect must animal farming and slaughter be before they are too imperfect.”

Book Review:

Review by Poornima Apte (NOV 18, 2009)

Full disclosure: I am a vegetarian. It’s not a label I really think much about because it was never a conscious choice. I was brought up in a Hindu vegetarian home and eating meat was totally out of the question. Over the years it has become a matter of habit and taste.

Jonathan Safran Foer’s path to veganism started when he became a new father. He wanted to research the foods he would soon be feeding his infant son and in no time came upon the juggernaut—the factory farm. “My personal quest didn’t stay that way for long. Through my efforts as a parent, I came face-to-face with realities that as a citizen I couldn’t ignore, and as a writer I couldn’t keep to myself,” he says as the impetus for writing his first work of non-fiction, Eating Animals.

During his research and reporting, Foer confirms what others have chronicled: The totally out-of-control factory farms that handle animal husbandry today have lead to multiple astounding problems—animals mistreated on a massive scale, people’s health endangered and the environment trashed to its breaking point.

In chapter after horrific chapter, Foer systematically outlines the problems with every kind of animal we raise and slaughter in the country: chickens, pork, beef and even fish. He directly equates the “modern landscape of disease” with the way animal husbandry is carried about these days.

Veteran writers in the field like Michael Pollan and Eric Schlosser have argued persuasively about the very same topics. The absolutely searing documentary “Food Inc.” also visits these very same points. So in a sense what Foer describes has been said before. Nevertheless the style of writing is uniquely his. Eating Animals also includes a whole chorus of voices from the industry who paint a complete picture of a monster run amuck.

While Foer doesn’t dwell much on the environmental impact of factory farming, he does visit some basic statistics. “According to the UN, the livestock sector is responsible for 18 percent of greenhouse gas emissions, around 40 percent more than the entire transport sector—cars, trucks, planes, trains, and ships—combined,” he writes. On a side note, although the scale is a lot smaller, vegetable farming is not entirely blameless either. Readers interested in learning more about the environmental and societal impact of growing all our food (including the veggies) could take a look at Raj Patel’s brilliant Stuffed and Starved: The Hidden Battle for the World’s Food System.

Despite all the reporting, Eating Animals will probably be remembered and talked about because of Foer’s moral arguments that underlie one’s eating choices. Even though Foer says the book is not a case for vegetarianism—he says it is possible to be a conscientious omnivore—his arguments sure point toward only one way out.

When faced with the egregious practices of factory farms, Foer argues, you cannot (or ought not) to turn a blind eye. One could seek out farmers who choose not to go this route. But, Foer points out, such farmers are so few in number that really, the consumer doesn’t have a choice for now—he should consider converting to vegetarianism. Incidentally, in one good section, Foer presents research that debunks the popular myth that one needs to eat meat to get enough protein. “Despite some persistent confusion, it is clear that vegetarians and vegans tend to have a more optimal protein consumption than omnivores,” Foer writes.

Foer’s recommendations to skip the meat altogether sound defeatist and sadly, his moral arguments can sound like an upstart proselytizing for the sake of a grander cause. Which is too bad. Because Eating Animals makes a great case against the factory farming of animals and is worth reading for this reason alone.

Conscientious eating will need a shift in resources, attitude and cost. Its primary driver will be education—toward that end, books like Eating Animals help enormously. It’s a worthy addition to the literature that already exists in the field.

In the end, Foer seems to take the safe way out (probably because the subject is so polarizing) and says that his book is “an argument for vegetarianism, but it’s also an argument for another, wiser animal agriculture and more honorable omnivory.”

It’s probably the safest stance. After all, ours is the society where the term “veggie hamburger” still assumes that the hamburger is the prize—the one whose taste must be reproduced. What Foer leaves unsaid is that the kind of cultural shift he really wants to stoke requires consumers not just to rethink their meat but, equally important, how they view their vegetables. But, for now, he’ll take what positive change he can get—even if it comes in small portions.

AMAZON READER RATING:	from 320 readers
PUBLISHER:	Little, Brown and Company (November 2, 2009)
REVIEWER:	Poornima Apte
AVAILABLE AS A KINDLE BOOK?	YES! Start Reading Now!
AUTHOR WEBSITE:	Jonathan Safran Foer
EXTRAS:	Reading Guide and ExcerptLA Times interview on Eating Animals
MORE ON MOSTLYFICTION:	Read our review of:Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close and Everything is Illuminated And more on this subject: Making a Killing: The Political Economy of Animal Rights by Bob Torres

Bibliography:

• Everything is Illuminated (April 2002)
• Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close (April 2005)

Other:

• A Convergence of Birds: Original Fiction and Poetry Inspired by the Work of Joseph Cornell (2001)
• Tree of Code (November 2010)

Co-Edited:

• The Future Dictionary of America (August 2004)
• Joe (July 2006)

Nonfiction:

• Eating Animals (November 2009)

Movies from books:

• Everything is Illuminated (2005)
• Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close (2012)

“Can one be so gifted and yet so impervious to the presence of things?”

Book Review:

Review by Kirstin Merrihew (AUG 25, 2009)

In Muriel Barbery’s bestselling novel, The Elegance of the Hedgehog, Renee Michel, the concierge, disdains the fourth-floor resident, restaurant critic Pierre Arthens, as “an oligarch of the worst sort.” She continues, “Can one be so gifted and yet so impervious to the presence of things?” Yes, apparently he can, and in Barbery’s new “companion” volume, Gourmet Rhapsody, the curtain of mystery is drawn back from him, and he shows us exactly how he does it!

Arthens is a background character in Hedgehog, who takes ill to his bed, with family, doctors and others coming and going. He is spoken of by forefront characters such as Renee and the young girl, Paloma (who labels him “a first class truly nasty man” and adds, “…he has so thoroughly renounced everything good that he might have inside him that he’s already a corpse even though he is still alive”), but otherwise his drama takes place out of sight. Gourmet Rhapsody, only 141 pages, zooms in on him as he lies in his sickroom, given only 48 hours to live by his physician. Feeling the vise of time, he casts his mind back over his life obsessively. As he explains, he is seeking to identify “[a] forgotten flavor, lodged in my deepest self, and which has surfaced at the twilight of my life as the only truth ever told during that lifetime….” He mentally grasps for meaning, for a reconnection, perhaps sensing the same waste about himself that Paloma mentions. With the gastronomic exuberance of one who unabashedly claims to be “the greatest food critic in the world,” he thinks about ice cream, bread, whisky (the spelling used in Scotland), and even provides the “dazzling prose about a tomato” Renee dissed in Hedgehog: “The resistance of the skin — slightly taut, just enough; the luscious yield of the tissues, their seed-filled liqueur oozing to the corners of one’s lips….”

While Arthens rhapsodizes about food, neglected and caustic family members, old lovers, neighbors, and servants have their say about him in their own chapters. Many decry him, hating him (or at least professing to) for being the egocentric, detached elitist he has been. Some of these bombastic diatribes are indignant to the point of either being comedic or just tiresome. Even the dog, the cat, and small statue of Venus contribute anthropomorphic opinions, with mixed results.

Hedgehog is a fully developed novel charactered with many-faceted individuals. Some of these take their turns at soliloquy in Gourmet Rhapsody (although Paloma is not among them), suggesting that this secondly-published book might be a quickly produced adjunct. However, as someone kindly pointed out, Gourmet Rhapsody was copyrighted six years before Hedgehog (in 2000, by Editions Gallimard, Paris), and we can surmise that its less polished, less deep material results from being the earlier piece. Although Barbery does invest this novella with some philosophical “meat,” there is a decided difference in quality between the two works, again pointing to an evolution of sophistication in the writer over time. Many may think, as I did, that this particular comment by Arthens is applicable to a degree: “What is writing, no matter how lavish the pieces, if it says nothing of the truth, cares little for the heart, and is merely subservient to the pleasure of showing one’s brilliance?” Not all the heart and soul and thoughtfulness signaturing Hedgehog were apparently yet in play in Gourmet Rhapsody. I’d like to have gotten a less caricatured look at Pierre Arthens and his world. But I suppose we are expected to understand that he was such vacant man himself that something more nuanced would have violated his character.

All in all though, anyone who is a thorough fan of The Elegance of the Hedgehog will probably desire to read Gourmet Rhapsody. I’m glad I did. It offers another inimitable glimpse at the characters of Rue de Grenelle as well as a peek into Barbery’s evident advancement as a fiction writer, and those aren’t items to pass up. Not to mention the rapturous food passages that may be over the top but lusciously mouthwatering just the same. (Translated by Alison Anderson.)

AMAZON READER RATING:	from 69 readers
PUBLISHER:	Europa Editions (August 25, 2009)
REVIEWER:	Kirstin Merrihew
AVAILABLE AS A KINDLE BOOK?	YES! Start Reading Now!
AUTHOR WEBSITE:	Wikipedia page on Muriel Barbery
EXTRAS:	Excerpt
MORE ON MOSTLYFICTION:	Read a review of The Elegance of the Hedgehog More for foodies: The Cyclist by Viken Berberian Hunger by Elise Blackwell The Lady, the Chef and the Courtesan by Marisol

Bibliography:

• The Elegance of the Hedgehog (2006; 2008 in US)
• Gourmet Rhapsody (2000; 2009 in US)

“It made me think about how much time I spend fretting about my body.  This bit is too big, that bit is too blobby, that bit is too ugly, that bit’s just plain wrong.  Being so paranoid and critical is exhausting.  Who’s to say what’s normal anyway?  Why can’t I appreciate what I’ve got?”

Book Review:

Reviewed by Eleanor Bukowsky (APR 16, 2009)

Shauna Reid’s The Amazing Adventures of Dietgirl is a heartfelt account of her battle to say goodbye forever to her Bonds Cottontails Full Briefs, size 24. At her largest, Reid weighed over three hundred and fifty pounds; her self-esteem was zero. This candid and witty book is written in diary form and is based on a blog that Reid posted on the Internet over a number of years. Shauna recounts her unhappy childhood growing up in a dysfunctional family on a farm in New South Wales, Australia. Her Mum was a Weight Watchers leader who made food an issue and helped set the stage for Shauna’s binges that, unfortunately, grew in frequency and intensity. Her compulsive overeating led to shame, self-loathing, and bouts of severe depression.

Reid, who is a pretty and talented redhead, had to struggle not only to shed over one hundred and seventy pounds, but also to entertain the hope that she could someday feel fulfilled and proud of herself. Luckily, she is blessed with a loyal and loving sister, Rhiannon, who has been a source of unconditional love and support in good times and bad. Without her sister’s constant cheerleading, it is unlikely that Shauna would have had the strength to overcome her demons.

The Amazing Adventures of Dietgirl is not a weight-loss primer filled with healthful recipes and exercises, although Reid does describe the eating and exercise regimens that helped her shed weight gradually. This is a delightfully fast-paced and breezy memoir in which the author traces her journey to emotional and financial independence. We share her excitement when she finally achieves her goals of traveling around Europe, making new friends, and even finding romance. Readers will applaud Reid’s honesty, laugh at her self-deprecating humor, and admire her determination to become physically and mentally fit in spite of setbacks that would have discouraged a less resilient individual. Finally, after three hundred and thirty-three weeks of ups and downs, Shauna is able to look at herself in the mirror and approve of what she sees: “The true reward is finding peace and acceptance and embracing my own skin, with all its quirks and charms.”

AMAZON READER RATING:	from 57 readers
PUBLISHER:	Avon (December 2008 in PB)
REVIEWER:	Eleanor Bukowsky
AVAILABLE AS A KINDLE BOOK?	Not Yet
AUTHOR WEBSITE:	Shauna Reid
EXTRAS:	Excerpt
MORE ON MOSTLYFICTION:	no

Bibliography:

• The Amazing Adventures of Diet Girl by Shauna Reid