When I grow up I want to write just like Molly Wizenberg. I'm sure you know her blog
Orangette. And if you don't, please do yourself the biggest favour ever and head over there. Now. Her writing is honest, funny, so true to life and so goddamn good. I was fortunate to have received a preview copy of her latest book
Delancey way back before Christmas. I saved it to savour for the flight to
Phoenix. I'm not good on planes. I fidget and squirm, breathe deeply when there's turbulence, and grip on to the seat ahead of me when things get really dicey. Seriously. If you ever have the misfortune of sitting next to me, ask to move. But with Delancey in my hands, I didn't even notice I was in a metal contraption millions of miles above the ground. I was into it. Molly's honest account of opening a pizza restaurant with her husband Brandon in Seattle is both charming and poignant. It's about finding your way as a couple and building the life you want to have together.
I think what I like best about the book is the vulnerability. She doesn't gloss over the mucky bits, she lays them out flat for all to see. It's a book about faith and love, perseverance and imperfection. Oh, and food, too. Each chapter concludes with a recipe; simple and straightforward. What you would eat if you were building a restaurant and a life together simultaneously.
