If you are looking for a good read this summer and you are a fan of food memoirs, I highly recommend chef Gabrielle Hamilton’s “Blood, Bones and Butter.”
Don’t be turned off by the title, there is really nothing gory about this book (OK, there is an unfortunate chicken episode) and Hamilton is a provocative and descriptive writer.
“I went everywhere she went. In the car, in the woods, in the market, in the kitchen. She took me to the farm to get our milk. As only a Frenchwoman can – in a heel, a silk scarf, and a cashmere skirt – she’d pull up the long driveway of the dairy farm in her chocolate brown antique Mercedes-Benz, and without a single awkward gesture, get down and fill four rinsed-out gallon plastic jugs with raw milk from a stainless steel tank while forty woolly Holsteins chewed and pissed in the over-humid next room. We left our money in the honor system coffee can.” (p. 23)
I wrote a full review of “Blood, Bones and Butter” for the Monitor here.
Get the book. Definitely.