What is it about food-memoirs that makes their authors choose ick-inducing titles? From Anthony Bourdain’s Bone in the Throat to Ruth Reichl’s Garlic and Sapphires (which makes me think of sharp shattered gems stir-fried into food, like those times I’ve found tiny stones in tostadas) — this fourth book by the Bust columnist starts with a strong, lilting whirl of ant eggs and M&Ms. Halliday’s sly assurance is born of international sojourns and Manhattan savoir-faire overlaid upon a funnel-cakey Midwestern girlhood, but we’ve kinda been there before, one too many times, amid all the ha-ha high-school/Tab/Farrah Fawcett nostalgia, not to mention puns about “eating cock.”
Grade: B-