The 17 Day Diet - Dr Mike Moreno

The 17 Day Diet is a four stage program aimed at rapid weight loss through a combination of low carb, high lean protein, probiotics and (like every diet) calorie restriction - like many diets this last part is not explicit in the directions but a consequence of the program.
The first three stages (Accelerate, Activate and Achieve) run for 17 days each, while the fourth stage (Arrive) is ongoing maintenance. The underlying premise is that altering intake (in terms of both caloric value and composition) causes 'body confusion,' preventing a slowing in metabolism that might otherwise occur. Why seventeen days? No idea - it must be magic.
Stage 1 is the most restrictive. Though a sample 17 day menu's provided, the formula is the same for every day: a glass of hot water with the juice of half a lemon and three cups of green tea (to speed metabolism), three servings of lean animal protein in the form of poultry, fish and eggs (though tofu can be substituted), one large salad with olive or linseed oil and vinegar, one large serving of steamed vegetables, two servings of fruit and two servings of probiotic (Yakult, yoghurt, kefir, tempeh). With the exception of Yakult (a small bottle) and salad dressing (one tablespoon of oil, two of balsamic vinegar) there's no restriction on serving sizes; the variety of allowable foods, though extensive, is limited to "low sugar" produce, and eggs are only allowed daily, in the form of two whole eggs, one whole and two whites, or four egg whites. The program also allows unlimited amounts of salsa and other low-calorie condiments.
So day 1 is:

Breakfast
2 scrambled egg whites
1/2 grapefruit of other fresh fruit
1 cup of green tea
Lunch
Large green salad topped with tuna and dressing
1 cup of green tea
Dinner
Plenty of grilled chicken with liberal amounts of any vegetable on the list, raw or steamed
1 cup of green tea
Snacks
175g sugar-free natural yoghurt or other probiotic serving mixed with 1 - 2 tablespoons sugar-free jam
1 serving of fruit from the list

Moreno's clearly not particularly interested in food as cuisine - the suggested snacks devolve by day 6 to "2nd serving of fruit, 2nd serving of probiotic." There are twenty-two recipes included, ranging from the 17 ingredient (coincidence?) "Dr Mike's Power Cookie" to the blending of kefir, fruit and yoghurt into a "Yoghurt Fruitshake" and I see online that US participants in some places have the option of meal delivery. I found it particularly annoying that the recipes, which are included as an appendix, aren't in any particular order - time of day, occurrence in the program, or alphabetical, making it harder than it needs to be to see what exactly the "Taco Salad" comprises.
The 'Activate' stage starts on day 18 and introduces alternate day additions - a wider range of proteins (shellfish and lean cuts of red meat), limited quantities of low GI (though he doesn't say that) grains, pulses and starchy vegetables.
A sample menu at random:

Breakfast
25g porridge oats, cooked (I assume in water but Moreno doesn't specify)
4 egg whites, scrambled
1 peach, sliced
1 cup of green tea
Lunch
Prawn salad: cooked prawns, 30g of chopped onion, generous bed of lettuce leaves, 1 tomato (large) and 1 tablespoon of olive oil
1 baked sweet potato, medium
1 cup of green tea
Dinner
Pork chops, grilled
Steamed veggies
1 cup of green tea
Snacks
150g blueberries with 175g sugar-free fruit-flavoured yoghurt
175g sugar free fruit-flavoured yoghurt or 240ml kefir

Stage 3 ('Achieve') kicks in at day 35 and adds an optional glass of wine per day; a slightly expanded protein range (fat-free turkey bacon, some game); a slice of multi- or wholegrain bread, cereal and pasta; and wider ranges of fruit, vegetables, dairy, snacks and fats (including nuts and avocado).
A sample day:

Breakfast
225g sugar free fruit-flavoured yoghurt
45g Muesli or organic granola
1 piece of fresh fruit (i.e., 1 peach, 1/4 cantaloupe, 1/2 grapefruit or 1 orange)
1 cup of green tea
Lunch
Tomato stuffed with crab salad: mix lump crab meat with 1 tablespoon light mayonnaise, 2 tablespoons chopped celery and serve on a generous bed of lettuce
Medium jacket potato with 1 tablespoon of fat-free sour cream or 100g brown or Basmati rice
1 medium eating apple
1 cup of green tea
Dinner
Roast beef, silverside
Courgette, sauteed with 1 tablespoon olive oil and Italian spices
1 cup of green tea
Snacks
2nd probiotic, dairy or dairy substitute serving
1 frozen fruit bar

"Courgette"? Yes, though bought in Australia this is the British version of The 17 Day Diet, so all the weights are given in both metric and Imperial, and "lorries" are used to explain biochemical processes. There are also references to tilapia, which are cultivated in the UK and US but categorised as noxious invaders in Australia.
The final stage ('Arrive') is a modified program aimed at long-term adherence - for five days a week follow any of the menus from stages one to three, with a more liberal (but not wholly abandoned) approach from Friday night over the weekend. Still, Moreno cautions, avoid binging and maintain moderation, just loosen things a little. He also recommends exercise throughout the program, once again magically - 17 minutes of gentle daily exercise during the first phase, doubling that up for the second stage, and maybe increasing the intensity for the duration.
There are several things I really like about The 17 Day Diet, at least in theory. There's acknowledgment that menstruation derails programs, and a corresponding modification for that week (including brazil nuts for selenium and a little dark chocolate if craved); there are cultural adaptations for a number of culinary tastes, with corresponding differences in emphasis on flavours and produce; and I believe this is the first program I've seen that specifically addresses the problem of shift work, particularly when carbohydrate intake is prohibited after a set time (in this case 2PM).
For the most part Moreno gives an explanation for his restrictions and requirements, citing studies about rapid weight loss, diet-linked conditions (like heart disease), and the impetus for the program appears to be strongly tied to his clinical practice as a physician.
This is also the first diet book I've seen that mentions any of the benefits of being fat, from improved bone density to better heart disease and diabetes statistics for women with fatter thighs. The whole book, however, is strongly weighted to women readers - in the section discussing health benefits of his program Moreno references slipping in to a little black dress, which leaves out any non-girly women and all but the cross-dressing men, and his description of research into improved sex with weight loss focuses only on extremely obese women who have a poor body image.
There were several thing I didn't like about The 17 Day Diet. I'm not a huge fan of programs that eliminate whole categories of food, but at least the 17 Day Diet reintroduces them after a comparatively short time.
I am extremely dubious about the power of hot water and lemon juice to detox, increase metabolic rate, aid digestion or in fact do much more than create ritual and ensure adequate vitamin C intake, but this element is common in many diets.
There's also the warning to consume fruit or carbohydrates after two o'clock, when they'll magically turn from energy to fat, although carb-rich vegetables are included in dinner. There are other unexplained magical elements, like 17 day cycles and 17 minutes of exercise, but I think the bullshit factor's lower than most programs. I'm starting it today, so check our other blog for how it works out in practice. - Alex

Dr Rick Kausman: If Not Dieting, Then What?

From the back of the book:

So how do you manage your weight? There is a solution and it’s all about attitude. In Not Dieting, Then What? shows you how to look at food in a more positive way and move away from the ‘no pain, no gain ethos’, an well as explaining how to fine-tune fat content without sacrificing food enjoyment.
Dr Rick Kausman is recognised as the Australian pioneer of the non-dieting approach to healthy weight management. In this straightforward, no-nonsense guide to weight management he shares his, and his clients’ experiences with the reader. You can learn how to: enjoy food without feeling guilty, increase your eating awareness, improve how you feel about yourself, fit some sort of activity into your day, and achieve and maintain a healthy, comfortable weight for you, without being deprived of food or quality of life.

Since I’ve decided to finally follow my doctor’s advice and stop dieting I’ve begun researching intuitive eating. The basic principle is simple: eat when you’re hungry, don’t eat when you’re not. But anybody who has ever had a genuine weight problem (and not just carried four or five excess kilos) can tell you that hunger often has very little to do with eating. This author understands that.
The purpose of this book is to give the reader the tools they need to get out of the yo-yo dieting cycle and get back in touch with their body. With chapters that address why diets don’t work, the importance of choosing realistic goals, non-hungry eating, body image and the inevitability of losing focus occasionally, this book covers the most commonly asked questions of this approach to weight management.
Personally I found chapter 3 ‘Non-hungry eating’ and chapter 7 ‘Eating with awareness’ to be of particular interest. I am making an effort to apply the techniques suggested to relearn to recognise my body’s needs with the hope that eventually these will become second nature (or is that a return to ‘first’ nature). At the time of writing this it all still requires considerable conscientiousness on my part and it is much too soon to say if the techniques will, in fact, work for me.
As far as “diet” books go this is one of the most reasonable and sensible ones I’ve ever read. The local references were a novel bonus too.-Lynn

Eat Cake - Jeanne Ray

Ruth has always sought refuge in baking - something about the alchemy and fragrance brought her peace and clarity. Between the sulky teenage stranger who was once her daughter, and her perpetually worried mother, who moved in a year ago when her home was robbed, Ruth thought her life was complicated and stressed. When her beloved hospital administrator husband, Sam, came home and told her that a company restructuring meant he was now redundant, it seemed less important than Camille's latest obsession or her mother's fretting about medical bills - he was great at what he did, and would surely have no trouble finding a new job.
Life was a little less rosy the next day, though, and just as the realities of his unemployment were beginning to hit Sam and Ruth, she received a call from her peripatetic musician father, Guy. He'd fallen, breaking both wrists, and has nowhere to go, no way to pay his medical bills. And even though her home is now home to her mother, the woman who raised her alone when Guy took off for greener pastures, Ruth has no choice but to bring her father home from Iowa to stay, at least until his wrists healed.
of course, as her life becomes more complicated Ruth turns even increasingly to baking - her cakes become more intricate and complex. For not only does she has the increasingly strained relationship between her invalid father, unable to do much of anything for himself, and her justifiably pissed off mother to deal with, Guy's influence filters through the household. Most notably affected is Sam, who looses all impetus to seek stable work and instead focuses on his lifelong dream to sail.
Eat Cake is a chick lit novel for the older reader - there's a little romance, but the main narrative is about Ruth's changing life and how she responds to the series of significant but not devastating events. It's about empowerment, as Ruth takes charge of her the family income, turning her hobby into a career, and about taking a new look at what you think you know - most significantly your family.
I enjoyed the ride, but nothing particularly stood out, though that comment's a little unfair as I'm writing this review at least a month after reading the book. - Alex

In Search of Perfection - Heston Blumenthal

Notorious, experimental chef Heston Blumenthal, renown for creations like snail porridge and bacon & egg ice-cream, has turned his hand to British classics, trying to create the most sublime versions - with a twist.
His brief for the series that inspired this book was to first discover what dishes constitute Britain's favourites (one for each of the eight episodes), then uncover the origin and essence of each meal, before creating a dish that is the synthesis of the original. The selected concoctions are: roast chicken and potatoes, pizza, bangers & mash, steak, spaghetti bolognese, fish & chips, Black Forest gateau and treacle tart & ice cream.
Those unfamiliar with Blumenthal's work could be forgiven for thinking that this makes for rather a slender cookbook, but that the recipes would be delicious and easy. They'd be right on only one count - I'm sure the dishes are divine.
Each creation takes around 40 pages (including lavish photos) to cover, encompassing the history of not only the dish but also many of its components (the introduction of potatoes to the Old World, controversy over the first country to create noodles), discovery of what elements are essential and what can be altered while still retaining a sense of the original (texture is an integral part of bolognese sauce, spaghetti cannot be replaced by fettuccine), and sourcing the best recipes and ingredients.
I'd love to have tried some of these dishes, but they're so labour intensive that it would have to be for something really special, and in some cases I can't think of an event special enough to warrant it - for example, the ice cream in the last dish required 1kg of dry ice, which is only available in quantities of 10kg or more.
I learned many interesting things while reading this book, not least of which was that Australia and the US lead the world (and certainly the UK) in beef labelling and quality. I think a trip to one of Blumenthal's restaurants may feature in my next trip to the UK, currently scheduled for September 2011. And I suspect my own cooking will remain relatively prosaic, but I enjoyed the food porn while it lasted - Alex

Portion Perfect - Amanda Clark

As everyone knows, the Western world is apparently in the midst of an obesity epidemic that threatens to make this generation of children the first to live shorter lives than their parents.
While I have significant issues with this whole concept, and with the increasing correlation of thinness with healthiness and fatness as horrific, with too little attention paid to fitness as a goal in itself rather than a means to weight loss, there is no question that most people have no concept of what constitutes a portion of pretty much anything. I, for example, know that I eat well but entirely too much, and I'm sure I'm not alone
In Portion Perfection: a visual weight control plan, nutritionist Clark aims to change all that. To no little extent a marketing vehicle for her products (a plate and bowl, heavily featured in this glossily photographed book, that are marked with regions for salad/vegies, carbohydrates and protein), there is a lot here that's valuable for the would be dieter, or anyone whose knowledge of portions is shaky.
Clark opens with a discussion of how manufacturers have shifted our perception of what a serving is, comparing the sizes of take away coffee, chocolate bars, flavoured milk and chips now to their counterparts twenty years ago; in most cases the calories have doubled, and for coffee the increase is over 5 times as much. A meal should be 300-500 calories, and a snack 100-200, but all these examples contain far more calories than a snack, and some of them hit up against the far end of a meal size, a frightening thought for any of us who've washed a meal down with 600ml of soft drink (245 calories) or chocolate milk (440). Clarke discusses how this change came about, pointing out that spending more money on food you don't need, regardless of a reduction in the per gram cost, is no saving for your wallet or waist. She also points out that the manufacturer's serving size may widely differ from that of the average consumer, so that a 200g pot of chocolate dessert, though the same size as a serving of yoghurt, contains five servings, even if it can be polished off in a couple of minutes.
I very much liked the meal suggestions that follow - Clark distinguishes between everyday and occasional foods, providing portions for each that stay within the caloric bounds of healthy eating. Each meal has three calorie options - for breakfast that's 300, 400 and 500 calories, while lunch and dinner have 350, 450 and 550 versions. Clearly and lavishly illustrated, there are photos of foods under each category, all around the same calorie equivalency. The everyday snacks, for example, are all roughly 100 calories, and categorised as fruit (6 small apricots, 1.5 cups of strawberries), dairy (variously sized individual tubs of yoghurt, one Paddle Pop, 200ml skim milk with a heaped teaspoon of Milo), nuts and seeds6 macadamias, 2 tablespoons of pepitas) etc. The occasional options have the same average calorie content but are higher in fat and GI. The size of a serving of apple pie (no cream or icecream) is distressingly small, as is the discovery that a 350 calorie lunch is 4 chicken nuggets and 8 hot chips!
And that's the worth of this book - when you can easily see that, for your calories you can have a small sausage roll or 1.5 cups of starchy vegetable soup with a piece of bread and butter, or a generous plate of pasta, ham and salad there's no comparison. And knowing that a single Lindor ball or two chupa chups take the same bite out of a daily allowance as the more filling options of three oatmeal biscuits, a tub of diet chocolate mousse, or a small apple and a small pear means I'm far less likely to mindlessly scoff the former. the plate and bowl may well help, and I think I'll borrow Portion Perfection from the library every few months to refresh myself, but for now just reading the book has been a great help as I gear up for healthier eating. - Alex

The Soul of a Chef - Michael Ruhlman

America's CIA is of overwhelming significance to a select, small but significant number of Americans, even though many outside that country's borders have never heard of it. In The Soul of a Chef - The Journey Toward Perfection, food writer Ruhlman continues the exploration begun in his 1997 work The Making of a Chef by chronicling a group of contestants vying for the awarding of the title Certified Master Chef. The Culinary Institute of America had only (at the time of publication) awarded the title 53 times, with 170 professional chefs undertaking the gruelling ten day process. As Ruhlman observes the seven candidates, posing as a member of the fictitious National Council of Accreditation (the CIA knew his real role), he combines a genuinely thrilling account of these competitors high pressure, expensive and precarious journeys, with a discussion about what it's all for. The CMC title is little prized outside the CIA, doesn't necessarily lead to greater success or job opportunity, and is heavily weighted toward some cuisines (particularly classic French) over others (like fusion).
The Certified Master Chef Exam comprises one part of this text; the other two sections follow two quite different chefs - Cleveland-based Michael Symon, head chef of Lola, and Napa Valley's Thomas Keller, owner and chef of French Laundry. The three components are unified by the dominant theme of the pursuit of perfection, with quite different paths followed by each group. I quite enjoyed The Soul of a Chef while I was reading it, particularly the Master-Chef-on-speed first section. But now the only trace flavours remaining in my memory are that the CIA is pretentious and wouldn't really fly in Australia, that Symon's kitchen sounds like a fun place to work if you're interested in hard work and strong training, and that the French Laundry might be worth a trip to the US. - Alex

Off Duty - Jane Middleton (ed)

When chef David Nicholls' son was paralysed during an accident on Bondi Beach, he decided to raise funds for spinal research by asking his chef friends to contribute to an unusual book about food - each writer has been asked to describe the food they cook for themselves and their families when they're at home.
Each of the forty-eight sections opens with a paragraph about the chef, their responses to ten questions (about their favourite flavours, utensils and ingredients, their inspiration, their guilty pleasure junk food, their attitude to children and others), followed by a three course meal.
In some cases the food choices are surprising (Heston Blumenthal's simple and delicious trio of pea and ham soup, oxtail and kidney pudding, and trifle for example), and on occasion they're ridiculously ornate for home cooking (I'd order Marcus Wareing's scrumptious sounding menu but never make crab and lobster tian with guacamole, cocktail sauce and Oscitra caviar, boiled pork belly with turned vegetables - pretty but turning's so fiddly - followed by an amazing peanut parfait with chocolate mousse and chocolate sauce that has several stages). In every case this is not a book to peruse when you're on a diet and haven't eaten for a while, but quite useful if you're into food porn and/or looking for dinner party inspiration - Alex

Don't Try This at Home - Kimberly Witherspoon & Andrew Friedman (eds)

Inspired by famed French food writer and chef Brillat- Savarin's oft quoted observation that a the true food lover is one who manages to "go beyond mere catastrophe and to salvage at least one golden moment from each meal," this slender volume (subtitled Culinary Catastrophes from the World's Most Famous Chefs) collects the purpose-written remembrances of thirty three well-known chefs and food writers from around the world.After a brief career synopsis, each brief section aims to tell a story of culinary tragedy that (hopefully) has a glimmer of gold, from Jamie Oliver, Neil Perry, Anthony Worrell Thompson, Heston Blumenthal, Anthony Bourdain, Bill Granger and others.
Unsurprisingly, some contributions succeed more strongly than others - I particularly liked food writer Rowley Leigh's horrific tale of kitchen violence, so much so that I'm interested in tracking down his other work, and chef Gabrielle Hamilton's distressing tale of a would-be chef who was incompetent and blithely unaware of it, and blind. I also liked chef David Burke's story of triumph snatched from the jaws of defeat thanks to large quantities of polystyrene, and cookbook writer Tamasin Day-Lewis's accounts of her first forays into cooking while at college (the grouse scene was especially distressing and hilarious). Other entries were less captivating, or served to show the writer in a good light, or illustrate an aspect of restaurant life that patrons rarely see.
I wouldn't buy Don't Try This at Home, and probably won't feel the need to re-borrow it, but I did enjoy the ride and will sadly soon be disembarking my exploration of culinary literature. - Alex

Kitchen Literacy - Ann Vileisis

Subtitled How We Lost Knowledge of Where Food Comes From and How to Get it Back, this work traces the pattern of American food preparation from the early days of settlement to the current day, focusing primarily on changes in food sourcing, markets, marketing, advertising and pre-packaging.
Kitchen Literacy reads very much like an academic thesis - the points Vileisis makes are well supported, and she draws heavily on American diaries and cook books from the seventeen and eighteen hundreds to contrast modern supermarket shopping with home cooks who planned months in advance in order to plant vegetables or raise livestock.
I found this significantly outweighed accessible reading - the tone is scholarly and the arguments (primarily that it would be better for the planet and for ourselves if we were more invested in food production locally) are less strongly made than I'd like. For example, she speaks of the advantages of organic produce, including the increased consumer investment in the way the food is grown and transported, and she mentions the new choices savvy consumers have between (for example) local produce and imported organic produce, but doesn't argue either way.
Perhaps I should have paid less attention to the title, which is a little misleading, and more to the neatly encapsulating subtitle, because I was expecting a book that concentrated more on food preparation than sources.
However, perhaps because I had farming grandparents, I found little of the revelations very surprising. Vileisis' references several times to the inherent presence of fauna in home-grown produce - the role of insects and their presence in one's food particularly stood out.
I read the first two thirds of Kitchen Literacy then flipped through the remaining text, skipping the extensive (64 pages) notes and references and the 15 page index. If I were interested in this discipline I think Kitchen Literacywould be an excellent resource; as a woman interested in eating better and cooking differently, I found it less useful - Alex

Ripe Enough – Cherry Ripe

In this frequently engaging collection of articles Ripe discusses many aspects of food, opening with an exploration of ripeness and why so many of us not only availed only of unripe, early picked and poorly stored fruit but are also unable to recognise good fruit. She moves on to artichokes, chickpeas via beef, and leaves barely a culinary arena, from seafood to rancidity, untouched. Each chapter concludes with a recipe or two, and the entries progress alphabetically rather than thematically.
This is a re-reading for me – I think Ripe Enough, first published in 1999, was the first book I read about food. Since then I’ve become acquainted with a number if food writers and enjoyed my forays into the genre, fuelling an interest in revisiting the beginning of my journey. Despite several, somewhat cursory, trolls through my boxes of books over the last couple of years, I haven’t found my copy so when I discovered that the library had it I was very pleased. I remembered the opening exposition, though no the recipes, and re-reading it was an interesting experience. Ripe writes of the Australian scene, so the produce, culture and regions she discusses are relevant and hold extra interest. The decade between publication and re-reading resulted in both differences in what she describes and contemporary situations, yet many things are not that different. I would have been interested, in her discussion about coffee (“Coffee Cherries: From Pits to Pots”), to see what she made of Starbucks opening here, and about Australia being the first location where stores of the chain closed.
Her basic thesis is worthy and well ahead of its time – buy locally, in season and when food is at its peak, consumers will pay more for better produce, the better educated consumers are about food (varieties of potatoes and their uses, the virtues of marbling in meat) the more demanding they’ll be about quality, great ingredients come from ecological and animal-friendly farming practices, best flavours (and often greater yields) come from older and rarer ‘heritage’ plants. I agree with all of that. But I found, wholly unexpectedly, that Ripe’s tone grated, the more so the further through I progressed. It wasn’t her (justifiable) distain of Anglocentric criticism of fusion cuisine or her (I imagine justified) dismissal on two occasions of famous foodie Keith Floyd’s accuracy and depth of knowledge. In fact I can’t quite put my finger on what, precisely, irritated me. I suspect it’s just that I built her writing up in the intervening years and have discovered that the book is adequate and unobjectionable, but not as absorbing as the best. - Alex

Sweet Love - Sarah Strohmeyer

Julie Mueller connects cooking with her mother's subservient domestic role - Betty has always had a meat, two veg and salad on the table by six, with something sweet to follow. A single mother, reporter, and part of the 'sandwich generation,' Julie has no time for such nonsense, particularly when shes's angling for one of the competitive places on the electoral team, following one of the candidates for the months leading up to the next election.
Betty thought she was doing the right thing when she ended her daughter's crush on Michael, the boy next door; at twenty-one he was four years older, and his white trash parents were an ominous predictor of his future despite the nurturing Betty had done. Now, twenty years on, Betty's not so sure she was right after all. To make amends she gives Julie a dessert making course at Boston's famed Cooking School, and engineers Michael to join the class to. Can love rise like a twice-baked souffle?
I've had mixed success with Strohmeyer's novels - I somewhat enjoyed one, and loathed another, so I approached Sweet Love with a little trepidation. The blurb is a little misleading - though the romance with Michael is present, it plays a secondary role to Julies acclimation to middle age - her daughter will be leaving for college in a few years, who parents are getting older, and she';s reevaluating her career and her life in general.
The mother-daughter relationships in the novel, between Julie and Betty, and between Julie and her teenaged daughter Em play a far more significant role than the relationship between Julie and Michael. Through the course of Sweet Love we get to know more about the women, particularly how a family history of breast cancer has shaped their lives, and discover how Betty's relationship with her somewhat distant husband has coloured Julie's picture of marriage and support.
Julie is relatively complex, has ssituations where career advancement battle ethics, and Strohmeyer clearly articulates her frustration at being an aid to those around her rather than being perceived as an individual with needs of her own - this is strongest when Betty assumes Julie can spend an afternoon taking her for an eye exam, not knowing Julie and Michael have plans of their own.
Despite these multiple elements, Sweet Love felt flat and undefined - the characters aren't very well presented, so we never have a strong sense of why Julie was attracted to Michael apart from habit, who Michael was himself, how he changes and why he was attracted to Julie, why Betty drew so much comfort from her emotionally and often physically absent husband, the relationship between Julie and her father, the relationship between Julie and her ex-husband, the relationship between Em and her father...
In many ways Sweet Love reminded me on an autobiographical first novel - though the writing was fine it felt as though Strohmeyer was working through some issues of her own. I say this because the character development wasn't as strong as I expected, and it ended with something of an 'eh' for me. Perhaps I approached Sweet Love as the romance it's very clearly presented as - title, pink cover, romance-focused blurb - but, as I said earlier, isn't. The book brought up some nuggets that caused me to reflect on my own mother-daughter relationship, but I didn't go into it with that expectation and so was left feeling rather flat. i think this is a third strike for me. - Alex

The Perils of Paella - Nancy Fairbanks

Carolyn Blue, food column writer and heroine of four previous books, is in Barcelona, catching up with an old friend while her academic husband attends a nearby conference. She plans to see the sights and try the cuisine but on Carolyn's very first day she discovers a body in the midst of an elaborate performance art piece, a body that in many ways resembles that of her dear friend and Miro scholar Roberta, resident at the museum.
Before she knows it Carolyn is waist deep in art, intrigue, run-away step-sons (Roberta's, not hers), seedy underbellies, suspicious police, murderous cabbies, pubs of ill-repute, amazing food and revenge.
This is a light and frothy series, ideal for a mentally break from more pressing concerns but far from substantial. The characters are sufficiently developed, the recipes amusing (though I have no intention of recreating any), and the plot diverting. I also liked the unusual setting, and Fairbanks' inclusion of Catalan history, language, culture and cuisine into the text - Alex

The Lost Recipe for Happiness - Barbara O'Neal

When Elena Alvarez fights with Dimitri, her sometimes lover and head chef at Vancouver's Blue Turtle, it's the last straw. When the owner of Blue Turtle, director Julian Liswood, offers her an amazing position she jumps at the opportunity even though it means relocating. Liswood is opening a new restaraunt in Colorado and he wants Elena to be head chef. It's going to be a lot of work - Elena not only needs to create a new menu and redesign the building layout but also negotiate her relationships with the rest of the crew, including former head chef Ivan, a man with a drinking problem and a massive chip on his shoulder but a brilliant cook.
I don't know why I didn't really enjoy The Lost Recipe For Happiness as much as I expected. Maybe it's just that there was too much. There are significant secondary plots about Elena's childhood, including her abandonment by her mother, the death of one grandmother, the transplantation to the Latin side of her family, and her sole survival following a devastating accident many years earlier that has left her with significant scarring and pain. There are recipes scattered through the narrative. There's a romance and the resolution of an old relationship. There's the ending of an old friendship and haunting by long-dead ghosts.
It wasn't bad, everything hung together alright, the writing was fine and the characters were fairly well developed, though everything wrapped up a little more neatly than I found believable. I just didn't find the experience as rewarding as I'd hoped, and it's really irritating me that I can't pinpoint why. - Alex

Waiting: True Confessions of a Waitress – Debra Ginsberg

After twenty years as a waitress, Ginsberg reflects on the experience, the restaurants she’s worked at and colleagues she’s worked alongside, and the perceptions the public have, based on both her experience with diners and on the way waitresses are portrayed in films and on television.
Coming from a country where tipping isn’t mandatory (and, depending on where you’re eating, often not expected), the section on wages was a little distressing, but I have the same reaction almost every time I read about US conditions of minimum wage workers. I’m sure that, along with most diners who haven’t worked in the industry, there are many aspects that I’m unaware of, but for the most part I found myself contrasting the (what seems to be unnecessarily complex) US system of bus boys and hostesses and sommeliers with the (at least superficially) streamlined Australian experience, where one person does everything. Somehow I have a feeling that wasn’t what Ginsberg was aiming at.
There are no surprises here, and nothing I found particularly amusing or interesting. It wasn’t uninteresting, and I certainly finished it, but if I was using one word to describe Waiting it would be “inoffensive”. - Alex

Bad Science – Ben Goldacre

NHS physician Goldacre writes a column for The Guardian about bad science, and maintains a website on the same topic. Bad Science the book, which could have been a collection of columns, is an impressive overview of the manifold ways in which the scientifically illiterate public are manipulated and mislead by skewed findings, poor evidence, flawed research, faulty data, media spin and government hype to believe any number of erroneous things.
In most cases Goldacre uses a well-known example to illustrate a greater overall problem, though some individual issues are targeted for themselves as well. For example, dissecting homeopathy not only explains why evidenced-based medicine is the way to go (and what stringent research involves) but also opens the way for a comprehensive and fascinating discussion about the placebo effect.
While he reserves his greatest ire for ridiculous ideas embraced by government (the most notable of these, to a non-Brit, being the Brain Gym program introduced to a wide range of British schools), there's no shortage of other legitimate other targets.
Quite possibly my favourite chapter deals with Gillian McKeith, the self-styled nutritional guru and bowel obsessive who berates fat people on her popular TV show (and book of the same name) You Are What You Eat (as UK comic Dara O’Briain says, in that case she must mostly eat shrew). Goldacre examines her more dubious claims, like the ‘fact’ that eating plant foods high in chlorophyll will “oxygenate your blood” or that ‘skid mark stools’ are a “sign of dampness in your body” (believe me, you want your bowel to be damp – a dry bowel will perforate and haemorrhage in no time at all). He also dissects her apparently scholastic work (that references such peer-reviewed journals as Health Store News), and her credentials (which is how I discovered that the non-affiliated Australasian College of Heath Sciences is in Portland, Oregon). Most powerfully, he articulates the indisputable but often ignored fact that the biggest contributors to life expectancy and morbidity (and how well you are as well as how long you live) are not whether or not you eat walnuts for selenium and goji berries for their antioxidant properties but your socioeconomic status, income and education level – “you are what you eat, and people die young because they deserve it. They chose death, through ignorance and laziness, but you chose life, fresh fish, olive oil, and that’s why you’re healthy. You’re going to see eighty. You deserve it. Not like them.” Which reminds me strongly of Alain de Botton’s observation that the downside of living in a (perceived) meritocracy, where anyone can succeed as long as they just try hard enough, is that those who don’t succeed are therefore seen as lazy, stupid and/or deserving of their fate (see here for an interesting interview with him on the subject).
His chapters on communal reinforcement (where what peers think becomes reality to the extent that it can override what we see and know – think of the Emperor’s New Clothes) and the power of placebo are worth the price of admission in themselves. On top of that, though, are an admirable clarity of expression, transparent and logically constructed arguments, and a distressing revelation of how much of our perceived understanding of medical and scientific advances are dumbed down, distorted and misshaped by the media. As Goldacre points out, journalists see no need to dumb down other areas where there are technical and significant details that the uneducated layperson doesn’t understand (sport and finance, for example), that specialist rather than general journalists are expected to do the writing. But for science stories these rules change. I don’t know that I agree with his explanation of why this is – Goldacre, on several occasions, argues that arts students, intimidated at university by science they couldn’t and/or wouldn’t understand, now have the opportunity to turn the tables, and that they think it must be the same gobbledegook for everyone as it is for them. I do think that this idea that everyone has the right to an opinion and that all opinions are equally valid, and that if one ‘side’ of an argument is printed the other side have a right to reply, is oft times ridiculous. For example, there have been dozens of studies looking at a link between the MMR vaccine and autism. None of the valid studies (some of which, like the 7-year Danish study, have included thousands of children over an extended period of time) have shown any link at all. We know that vaccines protect children from devastating diseases, but parents still decide against vaccination based on a variety of reasons including the ‘other side’ of the MMR ‘debate’ – anecdotal information and fear. Goldacre says that, if he had a slogan for the book it would be “I think you’ll find it’s a bit more complicated than that.” I think this will be my new slogan for a whole range of things, from the cause/s of autism to indigenous affairs, the Middle East, Northern Ireland, drug and alcohol addiction, weight loss and maintenance, health care, global finance... and science. – Alex

Sacre Cordon Bleu - MIchael Booth

Subtitled What the French know about cooking, this is an account of foodie Booth's year in Paris, where he combines his experiences at the renown cooking school Le Cordon Bleu, with details about his family life - his wife and two young children came to France with him - and his journey from picky child to a man who barely blanches at eating pigs' trotters.
Booth has some strong opinions that he's not afraid to voice, chief among them that recipes don't work, that chocolate and strawberries are a combination devised by Satan, and that celebrity chefs are irritating. The first insight doesn't stop him from sprinkling (very detailed and quite complicated) recipes throughout the text that I cannot review because I skipped over them all. Why? I'm ideologically opposed to veal and to force feeding, so I skipped over the foie gras terrine, Duvet de Veau (veal in an eiderdown) and veal shank contributions, feel confident I'll never be using half a calves' foot, however finely sliced (what do you do with the other half?), and could not be bothered with the detail in some of the other recipes ("1 aubergine, cut into slices about the thickness of a paperback copy of The Old Man and the Sea"? Please!).
It was an interesting enough insight into the world of haute cuisine, but don't think the praise for his previous book (Just As Well I'm Leaving, which I haven't read) applies to this one - not astute and erudite, certainly not funnier than Bryson, and not highly recommended by me. Check out the great Steingarten instead - Alex

You: On a Diet – Michael F Roizen & Mehmet C Oz

I am an intermittent Oprah watcher – as I check the TV Week listings every Monday (yes, books are not my only weakness), I check out Oprah’s topics; months go by where I have no interest and then I find myself watching a couple of shows a week. Several years ago, through watching Oprah, I learned about the RealAge test, which was created by Drs Roizen and Oz. I think the test and the site are a great combination of solid information and good humour, managing to bypass extremes for a realistic middle road approach too often missing when it comes to lifestyle (ie diet and exercise) suggestions.
Although You on a Diet (follow up to You: The Owner’s Manual) is subtitled The Insider’s Guide to Easy and Permanent Weight Loss, and bannered with “Lose up to 2 inches from your waist in 2 weeks”, the contents are a refreshing blend of scientifically-based recommendation, holisticism, hints and moderation. While the central theme is certainly weight loss, the underlying ethos is about sustainability and the long-term picture for lasting better health.
To that end the guide includes not just standard sensible diet advice (like small plates for smaller portions, a high water intake, and moderate alcohol), recipes and a meal plan, but also information about specific foods to include, reduce or avoid. We should all, for example, opt for foods high in anti-oxidants, and incorporate nuts in general and walnuts in particular; reduce intake of red meat, fats in general and saturated fats in particular, but not eschew fats altogether; and avoid trans-fats, white and wholemeal breads and pastas – always chose wholegrain.
There’s a section on ensuring better sleep and why that’s important, an exercise regime, suitable for pretty much everyone, that incorporates cardiovascular work (walking) with stretching to promote flexibility, and meditation.
The information is well supported with evidence, and complicated information (like how satiety works and why it sometimes doesn’t) is not only clearly explained but also illustrated with cartoons. Rather than specific numbers, the authors focus on healthy weight ranges for height, and prioritise waist circumference over weight altogether. There’s also a strong acknowledgment that slips happen, and that the focus should be on ‘taking the next safe You-turn to get back on track’ rather than giving up entirely.
Scattered throughout are common myths, and why they’re being debunked, and each chapter ends with a précis. There are a couple of quizzes to help the reader determine which areas are the most challenging for them, links to online sources, and a generally reassuring overall tone. The program is sensible, sustainable and aimed at improving quality of life in the long term, a striking contrast to the more usual immediate-future-focused approach I encounter.
I have a strong health science background and have read my fair share of diet and nutrition books. You: On a Diet is one of the best I’ve read. I particularly like the moderate and reasonable approach, the fad-free content, and the well-supported advice. It’s a little indigestible if read in one sitting, but spaced out over a few days the whole is pretty impressive. I’ve already started to make a couple of changes, and printed out the website’s stretching routine. I’m also going to check out the first in the series. - Alex

Fork it Over - Alan Richman

This collection on GQ articles, subtitled "The Intrepid Adventures of a Professional Eater" is divided like a meal, from courses "Amuse-Bouche" to "Cheese", a "Wine" section and "Gratuity" with a couple of "Palate Cleansers" thrown in. For the most part I found the categorising arbitrary (the exceptions being cheese and wine), the tone unduly dismissive of almost everything, and though I completed the book (intermittently, over the course of almost a week), I do in no way agree with Emeril Lagasse's front cover blurb that Richman is even remotely funny. The article of veganism was aggressive and rude (and I'm not a vegetarian, let alone a vegan), and I doubt I'd like the man if I met him in person. If you want to read a collection of amusing, interesting, appetising essays about food, I strongly recommend you read Jeffrey Steingarten instead. - Alex

Hunger - Terry Durack

Foodie Terry Durack's collected a handful of columns (written for publications as diverse as the Sydney Morning Herald to Vogue Entertaining), grouped thematically, that cover: why we stubbornly hold on to the same daily breakfast regardless of how adventurous are our lunch and dinner palates; the joys of surrendering to the best bits of foreign delicacies (like fish eyes in the orient); the deliciousness of left overs; the changes illness make to the recovering palate, and others.
This is definitely a dipping book, best read an essay at a time, but I did succumb and devour it a section at a time. I fear I lost something of the delicacy of the prose, but enjoyed my literary repast none the less. Just watch out - you may find yourself speaking in gustatory metaphors for a while. - Alex

An Omelette and a Glass of Wine - Elizabeth David

Renowned cookery writer Elizabeth David, who transformed the face of British cooking, wrote a regular column for Vogue, and some of these articles are gathered in An Omelette... My mother, a huge David fan, has long praised her work, so when I came across this while hunting for a couple of other epicurean writings, I leapt upon it.
Perhaps it's a mood I'm in at the moment, but I had to struggle to finish each essay, putting the book down to embark on (almost any other) tasks. After half a dozen such attempts, and the vast bulk of the book still ahead of me, I finally gave it up as a bad job. My mother tells me this is far from the best of the collection, and really only interesting to rock-solid David fans, a position I can wholly endorse. - Alex