Sorry to my vegetarian friends: the title’s a little meaty. AND I cannot stop thinking about this unusual memoir. I’ve been trying to work out the title – the three sections of the book are labeled blood, bones and butter; it may be a reference to her family of origin in the first, her working to learn and build her life in the second, and the sweetness of her new family in the last.

The writing brings you into the sights and smells and feels of gritty empty restaurants and glorious Italian al fresco dinners. I wanted to join in the summer family dinners and eat in her New York restaurant, Prune.

For an update on her life and a sample of her excellent writing this NYTimes essay on closing her restaurant in the pandemic is a good starter course. (Alack and alas, I will not get to dine there!)

Four stars