The Gastronomical Me by M.F.K. Fisher

This passage may contain everything I loved about M.F.K. Fishers memoir,┬áThe Gastronomical Me. The first time, on our way to Germany, we had sat downstairs while our meal was being made. ┬áThere were big soft leather chairs, and on the dark table was a bowl of the first potato chips I ever saw in Europe, not the uniformly thing uniformly golden ones that come out … Continue reading The Gastronomical Me by M.F.K. Fisher