To my mind, this is a logical progression, which explains why I own so many cookbooks and cook so infrequently anymore. The nice thing nowadays is, I can read some really interesting, informative books about food, like the following, without guilt (and with take-out.)
A Revolution in taste: The Rise of French Cuisine, by Susan Pinkard, from the august Cambridge Press. (Is Bakery Nouveau still open this late?)
Tuna: A Love Story, by Richard Ellis, who's coming to the Burke Museum of Natural History and Culture on October 30th, to give a talk on tuna, presumably. (Maybe I want Sushi.)
And, new in paperback:
The Tenth Muse: My Life in Food, by Judith Jones, a who's who memoir of modern cookery.
The Sharper Your Knife, the Less You Cry: Love, Laughter and Tears in Paris at the World's Most Famous Cooking School, by Kathleen Flinn. (I want to go to Paris too, just to eat of course.)
Service Included: Four-Star Secrets of an Eavesdropping Waiter, Phoebe Damrosch. (Dishy.)