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NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • A “mouthwatering” (The New York Times) adventure through the food, art, and fashion scenes of 1980s Paris—from the bestselling author of Save Me the Plums and Delicious! “An enchanting and irresistible feast . . . As with a perfect meal in the world’s most magical city, I never wanted this sublime novel to end.”—Cynthia D’Aprix Sweeney, author of Good Company Stella reached for an oyster, tipped her head, and tossed it back. It was cool and slippery, the flavor so briny it was like diving into the ocean. Oysters, she thought. Where have they been all my life? When her estranged mother dies, Stella is left with an unusual inheritance: a one-way plane ticket and a note reading “Go to Paris.” Stella is hardly cut out for adventure; a traumatic childhood has kept her confined to the strict routines of her comfort zone. But when her boss encourages her to take time off, Stella resigns herself to honoring her mother’s last wishes. Alone in a foreign city, Stella falls into old habits, living cautiously and frugally. Then she stumbles across a vintage store, where she tries on a fabulous Dior dress. The shopkeeper insists that this dress was meant for Stella and for the first time in her life Stella does something impulsive. She buys the dress—and embarks on an adventure. Her first stop: the iconic brasserie Les Deux Magots, where Stella tastes her first oysters and then meets an octogenarian art collector who decides to take her under his wing. As Jules introduces Stella to a veritable who’s who of the Paris literary, art, and culinary worlds, she begins to understand what it might mean to live a larger life. As weeks—and many decadent meals—go by, Stella ends up living as a “tumbleweed” at famed bookstore Shakespeare & Company, uncovers a hundred-year-old mystery in a Manet painting, and discovers a passion for food that may be connected to her past. A feast for the senses, this novel is a testament to living deliciously, taking chances, and finding your true home.
NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • A “mouthwatering” (The New York Times) adventure through the food, art, and fashion scenes of 1980s Paris—from the bestselling author of Save Me the Plums and Delicious! “An enchanting and irresistible feast . . . As with a perfect meal in the world’s most magical city, I never wanted this sublime novel to end.”—Cynthia D’Aprix Sweeney, author of Good Company Stella reached for an oyster, tipped her head, and tossed it back. It was cool and slippery, the flavor so briny it was like diving into the ocean. Oysters, she thought. Where have they been all my life? When her estranged mother dies, Stella is left with an unusual inheritance: a one-way plane ticket and a note reading “Go to Paris.” Stella is hardly cut out for adventure; a traumatic childhood has kept her confined to the strict routines of her comfort zone. But when her boss encourages her to take time off, Stella resigns herself to honoring her mother’s last wishes. Alone in a foreign city, Stella falls into old habits, living cautiously and frugally. Then she stumbles across a vintage store, where she tries on a fabulous Dior dress. The shopkeeper insists that this dress was meant for Stella and for the first time in her life Stella does something impulsive. She buys the dress—and embarks on an adventure. Her first stop: the iconic brasserie Les Deux Magots, where Stella tastes her first oysters and then meets an octogenarian art collector who decides to take her under his wing. As Jules introduces Stella to a veritable who’s who of the Paris literary, art, and culinary worlds, she begins to understand what it might mean to live a larger life. As weeks—and many decadent meals—go by, Stella ends up living as a “tumbleweed” at famed bookstore Shakespeare & Company, uncovers a hundred-year-old mystery in a Manet painting, and discovers a passion for food that may be connected to her past. A feast for the senses, this novel is a testament to living deliciously, taking chances, and finding your true home.
En raison de restrictions imposées par l'éditeur, la bibliothèque n'est pas en mesure d'acheter des exemplaires supplémentaires de ce titre et nous vous présentons toutes nos excuses si la liste d'attente est longue. N'oubliez pas de regarder s'il existe d'autres exemplaires, car d'autres éditions sont peut-être disponibles.
En raison de restrictions imposées par l'éditeur, la bibliothèque n'est pas en mesure d'acheter des exemplaires supplémentaires de ce titre et nous vous présentons toutes nos excuses si la liste d'attente est longue. N'oubliez pas de regarder s'il existe d'autres exemplaires, car d'autres éditions sont peut-être disponibles.
Extraits-
From the coverChapter One
Paris, 1983
Lilacs, rain, a hint of bitter chocolate: Stella sniffed the air as she entered the small shop, enjoying the soft golden light that enfolded her. A bell pealed, an old-fashioned sound that gave her the oddest feeling, as if she had stepped off the Paris sidewalk and straight out of time.
A curious old woman, whose beautifully manicured hands contrasted with her severe haircut and drab dress, was seated at a small oak table, wearing a smile that looked simultaneously reluctant and triumphant. Cat, Stella thought, canary.
At the sight of Stella, the woman’s face lit up and she leapt from her seat. “I have been waiting for you.” Her voice was deep, gravelly, the words emerging as if rusted from disuse. “What took you so long?” Her reproachful tone implied that Stella was shamefully late for an important appointment.
Stella was stunned. Perhaps the woman had confused her with someone else. Maybe she was crazy. Stella backed toward the door, reaching for the knob. But when the woman cried “Stop!” her voice was so imperious that Stella obeyed. The two stood for a moment, eyeing each other.
It was Stella’s first day in Paris. She’d stumbled blearily through the morning streets, jet-lagged and wishing she hadn’t come. The remaining days of her trip stretched before her, a vast uncharted landscape. What would she do with herself, alone in this unfamiliar city? Back in her apartment in New York she’d done her homework, walking her fingers across maps of Paris so she’d know her way around. But now, traversing actual Paris streets, she felt disquieted. Leaving the quaint hotel in the Latin Quarter, she’d tried to shake anxiety off by joining the stream of tourists crossing the Seine.
She had passed Notre-Dame—one day she’d go inside—and recited the name of each bridge as she crossed it. Yet despite her preparation she felt like an alien. She didn’t understand the language. She knew nobody. What was she doing here?
Heading to the Place des Vosges, she’d wondered if it would be as lovely as the guidebooks promised. “Le Pavillon de la Reine,” she had whispered to herself, as she began circumnavigating the ancient square. The stones seemed to be breathing ancient air, she thought as she surveyed the orderly little park with its tidy fountain. When she ducked into the arcade, she spotted a shop with Robes des Rêves etched in gold across the antique glass and stopped to study the ornate letters. There was a single dress in the window, waves of fabric in the most extraordinary shade of violet. Velvet? It looked so soft that Stella had longed to touch it. She had opened the door.
Now the proprietress was staring at her with that peculiarly Parisian arrogance. Her rudeness made Stella so uncomfortable she looked away, eyes darting around the shop. The walls, thickly layered with vintage garments, turned the crowded space into a time machine, as if the city’s entire history were spelled out in chiffon, linen, silk, and lace. Her eye fell on an austere wartime uniform standing stiffly at attention and moved on to a Pucci pantsuit in colors so exuberant she imagined it leaping from the hanger and boogying out the door. The woman simply watched, saying nothing. The small white dog at her side was equally alert. The silence stretched, uncomfortable.
What did I do? Stella thought, convinced, as usual, that she had done something wrong. She stood hesitating for a moment, then headed toward the violet dress...
Critiques-
February 19, 2024 Food critic and novelist Reichl (Delicious!) serves up a delectable story of an introverted copy editor’s life-changing visit to Paris in the 1980s. Stella St. Vincent’s quiet New York City routine is turned upside down when she learns her recently deceased mother, Celia, has bequeathed her a ticket to Paris and the means to stay there for six weeks. Celia had spent time in Paris in her early years, and Stella interprets the gesture as an exhortation for her to be more adventurous. The “Cinderella”-esque plot hinges on Stella’s encounter with the proprietor of a Parisian dress shop, who inexplicably lends her a $6,000 Christian Dior dress for one night. Wearing it, she walks with a newfound confidence and sensuality (“With each step, the scent of apricots and vanilla came wafting up”). While enjoying her first oysters at a restaurant, she attracts the attention of elderly art dealer Jules Delatour. The two become fast friends, and Jules brings her around to the Shakespeare and Company bookshop, where she hobnobs with Allen Ginsberg and other famous visitors. The expressive prose makes tangible Stella’s awakening as she develops a passion for French culture and cuisine like foie gras: “The flavor grew richer, rounder, louder with each passing second.” Reichl serves a feast for the senses. Agent: Kathy Robbins, Robbins Office.
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A woman who's led a colorless life suddenly finds herself in Technicolor Paris, and the delectable result is predictable in the best way. Narrator Kiiri Sandy gives dimension to Reichl's charming, if paper-doll-like, characters. Our heroine Stella's luxury-loving self-centered mother dies, leaving Stella a ticket to Paris and enough money for a long stay. Repressed and comfortable in her rut, Stella almost doesn't go, but, of course, she does. Sandy's performance is fun. As Stella experiences questionable coincidences and improbable situations, Sandy allows us to suspend disbelief and just go with the sensuous descriptions of food and wine. The audiobook feels more like an appetizer than a full meal, but thanks to Sandy's full-bodied reading, listening is a tasty treat. S.J.H. © AudioFile 2024, Portland, Maine
