A Kid in a Candy Store

Books. I read them. I devour them. Some might complain I collect them (i.e. I purchase books even when I own plenty that have not had their spines cracked yet by my hands). And I am now drowning in them. A Central Park picnic surprise of Bourdain's "Nasty Bits" that I take with me on the train or to bed (because who doesn't want to read about blackberries swimming in seal blood or the go-to dives of Hell's Kitchen right before you are whisked away to Dreamland). A friendly loan of Ruhlman's "Soul of a Chef" where I find myself many times in public wincing in horror at the trials endured in becoming a Certified Master Chef or in running your own business. But where I also find myself nodding in agreement over the craft of this world I have decided to plop my feet firmly upon. And now I have before me, taunting me, enticing me, beckoning me ... Ruhlman's latest work ... "Ratio." A special purchase meant to be used as a supplementary textbook for the education I continue to provide myself.