The Sweet Life in Paris: Delicious Adventures in the World's Most Glorious - and Perplexing - City in Book Riot's Read Harder Challenge

Dec 26, 2012 mehg-hen rated it it was ok

Shelves: cantdoitcantfinish, travel, memoir

I worked a job with women who were all at least 30 years older than me. I heard this joke all the time: "I'm looking for a guy with a bulge in his pants. BUT IN THE BACK HAHAHA!!@!!!!" meaning his wallet. They were, by and large, nice ladies who dealt pretty gently with a frustrated dread-bag who cried at her desk and ate all the candy (me). Something about that joke made me want to desperately walk around, put my hand on someone's arm and softly say "am I alone?" That kind of joke is dumb. No b I worked a job with women who were all at least 30 years older than me. I heard this joke all the time: "I'm looking for a guy with a bulge in his pants. BUT IN THE BACK HAHAHA!!@!!!!" meaning his wallet. They were, by and large, nice ladies who dealt pretty gently with a frustrated dread-bag who cried at her desk and ate all the candy (me). Something about that joke made me want to desperately walk around, put my hand on someone's arm and softly say "am I alone?" That kind of joke is dumb. No big deal. Yet it fills me with disproportionate sadness about the futility of human connection.

This summer I ate an ile flotant, a French dessert that is normally boring merangue on a custard sauce. This one was so pillowy and perfect, I wept and laughed uncontrollably eating at the bar with my friend. I wept trying to describe it days later. I am currently tearing up thinking about it. I am not a foodie. That ile flotant was transcendent and meaningful. I could decline all dessert and candy after that because that ile flotant told me I am not alone and love is not a lie. It was a weird summer.

This book is written by a pastry chef in France.

I think this guy had a ghost writer. Or an aggressive editor. His life is too fascinating for this book. He writes things with a lot of eyebrow wiggling and "did you get my joke" elbow poking. I believe his actual life involves more drinking and swearing and grit and breaking a glass and screaming about something he loves while foaming at the mouth. And inordinate sobbing. I mean he moved to Paris because he wanted to. Either he's pretending he's not in possession of inordinate, insane, embarrassing wealth, or he is keeping it light because this is a cookbook for God's sake. It feels like he is winking and flirting with my great aunt and saying "I'd sure like to spend an afternoon with HIM" about a cute guy flinging fish. And I want to say "to what? to f*ck?" and make everyone uncomfortable and then later bust him with the fish guy. This probably says more about me than him, but it is the same trapped feeling you get when someone is not telling the full truth about something fascinating.

Also I guess I am from America and spent time in France and I remember the two dudes I found attractive because I didn't outweigh them and they weren't smoking and moping. Those two dudes turned out to be American.

I mean I guess the truth is I wanted him to write a book called "Paris is Confusing But the Food is Incredible." Or "Sometimes I Am Moved at Inconvenient Times." Or "Poems for an Ile Flotant."

Here are quotes with my edits:

"Aside from the fact that I would be dangerously close to the squid, even more frightening was that they told me to come the following Wednesday at 5:30 a.m. And let me tell you, there's nothing scarier than I am at 5:30 a.m. [calm down, he is just saying that for effect and it makes his coworkers and his boyfriend laugh. Maybe he is really scary. Maybe he brings up his childhood and all of your weaknesses and spirals into dread and claims to see the future. Maybe he sobs and doesn't get dressed. Maybe he mutters in a satanic language that he clearly understands. Okay?] A giant octopus doesn't even come close. [Look, he is afraid of betrayal and emptiness like everyone, okay? He is afraid of squids, so for him, this would be terrifying and not interesting from a biological standpoint. Again, this is said for effect and he and his loved ones enjoy talking about his fears of squid. Yes, it is not possible for a giant octopus to be alive and walking to work unless he lived in a cartoon. This is confusing. In fairness, you are maybe overthinking this?] As anyone who's worked with me can attest, I'm distinctly unpleasant in the morning. [? okay, well, maybe he doesn't realize most people aren't morning people. Wait, I thought there was nothing scarier? Hold up, I thought he should be scarier than something that ate a submarine? Now it's just distinctly unpleasant? What is going on. Who is this ghost writer. Honestly.]"

"Certain I was dying, I did the first thing any normal person would do in that situation: I turned on my computer and checked my email for one last time. [He is making a joke. He wouldn't actually do that, neither would a normal person.]"

"Then, suddenly, the worst thing that could happen to anyone in Paris happened. I had to go to the bathroom. [Okay, I see why you're getting frustrated.]"

"I certainly didn't want my mother's worst fears realized--to have her son arrive at the emergency room with less-than-pristine undies...[Maybe you just shouldn't read this book?]"

"Perhaps the city of Paris needs to add fashion police to the other duties of the gendarmes. [just go to the library.]" ...more

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Jun 20, 2019 Katie rated it really liked it

Shelves: in-a-land-far-away, how-others-live

A quick and enjoyable read. Part of me wishes I’d read this before our trip - you know I would’ve tracked down the cafe with the hot chocolate he mentions! But I loved being about to picture the areas and roads he mentioned, the habits he describes, the people he paints.

One quibble: in the chapter called “How to Dress in Paris” the author only prescribes clothes for men. Why would he leave out 50 percent of his readers? Why didn’t his editor catch that?

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May 22, 2010 Jessica rated it really liked it

Shelves: nonfiction

I'm never quite sure what to do with the book-with-interspersed-recipes genre. Am I actually supposed to read the recipes along with the rest of the book? And when I finish the book, does it go on my bookshelves or in the kitchen with my cookbooks?

Having tried a couple of recipes in this book, I think I'm going to classify it as a regular book and put it with all my other non-cookery books. Lebovitz is a smart, funny writer, who has a lot of great insights about life in Paris but manages to put ...more

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Mar 30, 2015 Eunice rated it really liked it

A funny series of essays written by a food-obsessed ex-pat in Paris. This was just what I needed after the few flops that I've recently read. If you like the style of David Sedaris and you like to eat, I think you'd enjoy this book. ...more

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Jan 06, 2017 jenn rated it it was ok

Shelves: 2017

This isn't really a food or cooking memoir. It's kind of like a bunch of Andy Rooney rants, if Andy Rooney was gay and hung out with Nancy Meyers one time. ...more

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