Caveat: I read only to the end of Chapter 8, which goes through the turn of the 20th century.
As the former restaurant critic for the Times, Grimes certainly knows food. He’s at his best when he allows himself to discuss it in detail—as in the paragraph where he explains how turtle soup was made in the 1850s. Yet those moments are relatively few. The book reads like the survey its footnotes reveal it to be: Grimes distills most of his information from other, more specific, books or from newspaper accounts that are, in themselves, distillations, and what he gains in scope he often loses in texture. How, for instance, can Grimes quote only a single line from “Hot Corn,” a mid-nineteenth century “moralizing novel about the miseries and temptations of the city’s most visible street vendors”? While there are some wonderful moments here—I can never grow tired of comparisons of old New York to today's city, such as takeout in 1813 and the lunch rush in the 1850s—the book is, most often, neither comprehensive enough to satiate nor incisive enough to be its own reward. New York history, on the other hand, remains endlessly fascinating, and I am eager to dive deeper into many of the events, trends, and topics Grimes glosses here.