My name is Larry and I love food. I mean, seriously. I love to read about it, I love to cook it, and I seriously love to eat it. Most of the memoirs I’ve read have been written by chefs or have been about people’s love of food, so when I saw Stanley Tucci (one of my favorite actors) had written this book, I jumped on it like I would a buffet. (Hey, #fatboysgottafat.)
In this book, Tucci shared memories of growing up in an Italian family that shared an immense love of food, and how his preferences were much more expansive than those of his peers, yet he still craved the junk foods of his youth.
He shares memories of some of the best (and worst) meals he’s ever had, memories of discovering new restaurants while filming or traveling or vacationing. He also discusses the shared love of food with both his late first wife and his current wife and their children, and one of his greatest fears when battling his own cancer diagnosis. (Plus, recipes. I’m in heaven.)
So often I could picture Tucci with his sly wit and slightly curmudgeonly manner telling me these stories. (He loves poking fun at Meryl Streep, too.) Taste really was just an all-around fantastic reading experience that made me so hungry, and I, well, devoured it in no time.
If you’ve never seen his movie Big Night, and you like movies about food, check it out!
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