Julie and Julia by Julie Powell

Okay, I will admit that I started this book mostly because my mother-in-law said that the level of language in it was "foul." A) I like books with language, and B) I like doing things my mother-in-law disapproves of. With that confession out of the way, let's move on.

This book was fantastic. Real, honest, funny, down-to-earth, and completely delicious. I devoured this book, almost literally. For the several days it took me to read it, it literally went everywhere with me; I read it on the bus, waiting in line, sitting at the doctor's office (hell, I'll even admit to reading it when my husband was talking to me and thought I was listening to him; yes, I am a little ashamed, but it was a really damn good book). I finally finished the book at about two in the morning. My husband had gone to bed and I was sitting up by candlelight, reading feverishly (I shit you not, I really did that; and no, I don't do that often, I am not a throwback to the dark ages, that's my mother-in-law, remember).

In fact, this book helped remind me of how much I love food, why I love food, and that I can be a modern woman (not a fifties housewife) and still love to cook without having to give up my modern ideas of what it means to be a "woman" (which, I'll be honest, I'm still figuring out what the hell that means; but I know it doesn't mean cooking, cleaning, and baby-making/rearing).

So, if you can handle a little language (well, let's be honest, a lot of language) and you have any love of food at all, to any degree, this is a fabulous, fabulous, fabulous read (and it is about so much more than cooking too). I highly recommend this book.