2/3 of the Tummy Trilogy

American Fried and Third Helpings, by Calvin Trillin*

Trillin is one of my favorite food writers, and these books were just what I needed to wash the sour taste out of my mouth from some of the other terrible things I had been reading. A foodie before there was even a word for such a thing (his wife Alice politely referred to the species as "food crazies"), Trillin writes humorously and passionately about his constant quest for something to eat -- not the most trendy, most expensive, most organically-grown-and-locally-sourced item of the day, but something that tastes good. Whether he's discussing his friend Fats Goldberg the pizza baron, daydreaming about the Italian West Indies, or assiduously eating his weight in baked duck and dirty rice in a valiant attempt to trace the origin of the recipe, Trillin always makes me laugh and leaves me hungry.

*Edited to ask: Can anybody help me find a free or cheap copy of Alice, Let's Eat? Mom's has disappeared, and BookMooch has been disappointing on that score.

A Few Quickies

RIP Gary Gygax. Despite being a prototypical nerdy teen, my major D&D period was in adulthood. For 6 years, I interacted once or even twice weekly in a group that combined the best parts of writing, improvisational theater, and performance art, while eating Doritos and laughing our asses off. Our group eventually broke up for the most adult of reasons: one group member, the DM's wife, was having an affair with the brother of a fellow player; she and the DM got divorced; and the group split amid mutual recriminations. But it was a fabulous, creative period in my life and for that I will always think of Gygax kindly.

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RIP Arthur C. Clarke. To be truthful, I was never that big a fan. Like many of the so-called Golden Age science fiction writers, Clarke had some great ideas but was too concerned with gadgets, not enough with characters. However, his Hugo-winning stories "The Star" and "The Nine Billion Names of God" are both filled with a numinous sense of wonder and are among the finest short stories I've ever read.

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How weird is it that within the same week I read two books that couldn't be more different -- Christine Falls and Flight Lessons -- but whose plots both hinged on the fact that, at some time in the past, a guy married the wrong sister because Sexy Sister would sleep with him and True Love Sister wouldn't?

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My sister and I once took a drive down the Pacific Coast Highway from San Francisco to LA. Along the way are miles-long stretches where there's nothing but the ocean on one side of the road and on the other, grazing cows in meadows that any sane person would build a dream house on. Every time one of those happy cow California cheese commercials comes on, we look at each other and say, "It must be the million-dollar views."

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I thought Hung already won Top Chef season 3. What's he doing back this time, masquerading under fellow competitor Dale's name?

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A Bellini. A blini. Not the same, Valerie, thank you very much. Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out, and say hi to your equally annoying sister Melissa when you get home.