She muses on the reasons for cooking - a way of feeling superior to others as a provocative friend suggests, or for physical pleasure or a creative act or connecting oneself to the world in a way that feels important.
Or she lets the small, dark, shiny beads of puy lentils run through her fingers considering their antiquity, and like other pulses, the blank canvas they provide on which cooks may create a thing of wonder.
Or she invites the best hostesses she knows to lunch to figure out what makes an enjoyable meal with friends - feelings of warmth, joy, ease, timing, one good dish and a couple of small ones instead of trying to do anything too complicated.
It's always a pleasure to read good writing and this simple, unillustrated paperback is an engaging read as much for the author's style as for the practicality of her recipes, which are almost incidental. It's her words rather than mouth-watering photographs that will entice me to make her simple braised lentils, her citrus couscous and her roasted carrot and mint salad.
