Back on track

It's been a long time, as Led Zeppelin said (a long time ago), but I hadn't quite realised how long until tonight. Since posting about about the Oregon Truffle Festival, I've finished the first draft of my next book (details as soon as announcements are made to the trade), started working on it with my editor, got half way through a piece on the world of truffles for New Zealand Geographic, and thought a fair bit about what I'm going to say about truffles when I do my session with Annabel Langbein at the International Association of Culinary Professionals conference (see WS-29) in Chicago after Easter. Out in the truffiere the weeds are back under control, mouse poison has been laid in bright yellow bait stations, and the amazingly charming Peg is starting her pre-season refresher course.

There have been a few odds and sods of truffle news, but I'll catch up on that when I get back from Chicago. I wonder if Kingston Mines is still the best blues club in town?

Oregon and on...

Tuesday, April 3, 2007 9:03 pm (permalink)

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The Truffle Book

Winner of the Special Jury Award at the Gourmand World Cookbook Awards. "Absolutely rivetting" - a well-known prince. Available as softback, limited edition hardback, and PDF. Free sample PDF.

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current reading

It's taking me far too long to read this. I have been a fan of Pynchon since reading Gravity's Rainbow as a student. Against The Day strikes me as one of his most approachable novels, full of fantastic characters and wild invention, but I've been busy doing word things, and sometimes the last thing I want to do is read. But this is like fine wine, keeps tempting me to another glass. At 1085 pages, I'll be squiffy before I'm finished.

just read

I've read two books called Heat in the last month. One was damn scary, and one was by George Monbiot, about global warming (which has a fantastic cover). Some would say I've been and gone and had my mid-life crisis, but it didn't involve doing an apprenticeship at the altar of real Italian cuisine and a tyrannical chef. Bill Buford is not me, and for that I'm grateful. I suspect he may be too. I enjoyed it - the kitchen stuff was pretty compelling (as was the Italian butcher I may just have to visit next time I'm on Italian truffle time), but somehow the whole thing didn't hang together. I know where Bill's coming from - and I can sort of sense where he went - but his own motivation (and his family's reaction) remain mysterious.