Book Reviews by the Vittles Vamp

When I picked up Confections of a Closet Master Baker: One Woman's Sweet Journey from Unhappy Hollywood Executive to Contented Country Baker by Gesine Bullock-Prado, I noted the irony of the timing. Bullock-Prado's superstar sister Sandra Bullock had just won her first Academy Award. By the time I had finished the memoir, the actress's marital woes were splashed all over the blogosphere and celebrity rags.

But having just read her sister's memoir, including tales of their strong family upbringing and tight bond, I didn't worry for for Sandra. I knew that her sister would be by her side soon enough. A sister armed with a solid head on her shoulders and the uncanny ability to make sublime Opera Cake, Mandelhoernchen and Espresso Cheesecake.

My mouth waters at the image of an elegant eclair, its pate choux puffed up and golden brown, decadently glazed in shiny dark chocolate ganache. Do I dare turn the page? I do!

A vivid two-page spread of madeline cookies takes my breath away as the haunting aroma of butter tickles my nose. A figment of my imagination? I flip back to an earlier page.

A close-up photo of rainbow-hued macaroon cookies in bright raspberry pink, pistachio green, violet purple and almond cream makes me swoon.

Paris Patisseries: History, Shops, Recipes is no ordinary coffee table book. It is unadulterated pastry porn for which an accompanying cup of strong coffee is highly recommended – not to mention a Gauloise after you've shut the book's cover.

I am a carnivore. So, the irony wasn't lost on me when I was asked to review Jonathan Safran Foer's new book “Eating Animals,” a non-fiction account of his exploration into the horrors of factory farming in the United States. 

I had fully expected to be shocked by Safran Foer's descriptions of how chickens, turkeys, pigs and cows are treated inhumanely in our heartland's conglomerate-owned plants, where not only is there no care given to animals' well-being while alive, but absolutley no care given to their slaughter. The book didn't disappoint on this front. In fact, it exceeded expectations.

Picking out a cookbook can be a very personal endeavor.  My ritual is to approach the “Culinary Arts” shelf at my local bookstore with bravado, picking up whatever I can lay my hands on and flipping through the pages, allowing for three pit stops along the way.  If I don’t see at least one recipe I’d like to make within those three arbitrary pages, I put it back on the shelf.  Otherwise, another three pages are inspected and if they pass muster too, a purchase is born. 

He had me at Vermont Apple Dumplings. He had me again at North Carolina Chitterling Strut. And, I fell under his spell once more at Puget Sound Indian Salmon Feasts.