The act of reading ... begins on a flat surface, counter or page, and then gets stirred and chopped and blended until what we make, in the end, is a dish, or story, all our own.
— Adam Gopnik

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May 13, 2013

Is it tomorrow morning yet?

Guillaime Ladoucette wiped his delicate fingers on his trouser leg before squeezing them into the glass jar. As he wiggled them around the cold, slippery fat he recognized what he felt was an ankle and his tongue moistened. He tugged it out and dropped the preserved duck leg into the cassoulet made by his mother thirty-one years ago and which had been on the go ever since. The ghostly white limb lay for several seconds suspended on haricot bean and sausage flotsam before disappearing from sight following a swift prod with a wooden spoon.

Custodian of the cassoulet now that his mother had gone cuckoo, the barber gave the dish a respectfully slow stir and watched as a goose bone appeared through the oregano and thyme vapours. ...
from The Matchmaker of Perigord, by Julia Stuart

After having such an irresistibly enjoyable book with me on the bus last week, and wondering which of the books I'd already stacked up I should read next, this one came in for me on Overdrive.  Honestly, all I meant to do was load it up on my Nook, then I checked to see that it was there, and then I opened it up to the first page so it would be ready for me as soon as I was ready for it, and then since I was already there I thought I really should read the first page or two to be sure I would want to read it ... :)

Tuesday afternoon update:  as it turns out, I loved the opening chapters, and then thought about another 200 pages of the same, and decided I probably had the flavor of the book, and too many others to read.  But it was a very enjoyable round trip.

{image - and recipe - here}

1 comment:

JoAnn said...

LOL! Sounds like another excellent week on the bus ;-)

Thank you for visiting!

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