Lunch in Paris: A Love Story, with Recipes

I love food memoirs. I admit to it, even though they are rarely different and often times merge together in my head, swimming so that I can hardly keep one separate from another.

Bard's memoir is more than just a food memoir. It is, like the subtitle implies, “a love story, with recipes.” It centers around the life she builds with her boyfriend-turned-husband, Gwendal. Bard's writing is laced with an incredible sense of humor that had me laughing hysterically and snorting, which is often rare. In fact, I find most food memoirs to be overly reminiscent of childhoods or full of melancholy. While Bard acknowledges her past—her parents, her earlier days, her cultural Judaism—she does not let that taint her experience in Paris or her new beginnings with Gwendal.

She doesn't fall prey to the same misgivings that many (including myself) attribute to the French. Bard seems to find some middle ground, like G. Willow Wilson in her memoir, between not-American but not-French. She is poignant and wry, which I love.

I wish I could type some of my favorite lines from this book, but it would take away from the fantastic events and experiences in this book. I have never had any desire to go to France or to learn French, but I absolutely adored this book. It's one of the few books that I'm not going to sell or donate before moving, and I would recommend this book to anyone.