Dumb Idea # 1: Braising lettuce. I was going to call this post "Lettuce now braised...," riffing on "Let us now praise famous men," only I couldn't think of anything to pun with the "famous men" part. Anyway: we got a container ship's worth of lettuce from the CSA and I thought to myself, Aha! I will cook it gently! It will cook down to a more manageable quantity and taste like the delicious essence of itself, because Brooklyn Farm Girl says so. Instead it tasted like the very distillation of bitter despair. Not recommended.
Also not recommended, otherwise known as Dumb Idea #2: The book I checked out of the library this evening. A Facebook friend recommended it enthusiastically earlier today and hey-- there it was sitting on the new releases shelf. You guys, it is exceedingly rare for me to be critical about books in this space because I imagine their authors stumbling across critical posts and feeling bitter despair, perhaps a flavor of bitter despair even keener than that induced by a plateful of braised lettuce. (Oh! Another problem with braised lettuce, speaking of platefuls, is that it doesn't even cook down very much. It's like the opposite of the Catskills lament: terrible food! and such huge portions!) But anyway-- I read half of this book at a gallop and then I couldn't deal with it any more and skipped to the end. (I did the same thing with Gone Girl. I don't really do thrillers.) And I have to say: do not pick up the book Behind Her Eyes unless your tolerance for implausible plot twists is higher than mine. By which I mean: super-high. Very very high. I am a little miffed about having given 90 minutes of my life to something so preposterous.
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