I love the fact that she has so much respect for her mother. It seemed to be written as if she were sitting across the table talking to a dear friend. This book has opened a new door for me.

I think this book was spawned from the success(?) of ‘French Women Don’t Get Fat.’ I assume that the latter book was equally vapid, but I can only hope it was better written.

Don’t get me wrong, the book made some interesting points… well, the same ones about saturated fat and processed food, to be fair… but it was sort of drowned in a lecturing style. There was good info in there, but it was the same 5 pages worth of good info repeated at you over and over and over, the way your mother always told you to stand up straight, thereby guaranteeing you’d slouch even more, just to spite her.

I guess it’s not good if the main thing a book instills in me is the urge to rewrite it, better. If she repeated herself less, got some more good anecdotes (preferably ones that didn’t involve herself, her husband, or her mother… and for heaven’s sake, grown men should not be referred to as Billy, OK) and boosted the number of recipes threefold… it would have been a good read.

Which is to say, that this mostly just saw me through a spell where I was about to climb on a plane and didn’t want to start anything hefty. Yep.