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4.0

I felt a little let down by this book, for reasons I can't articulate clearly. The writing is engaging, if not rock solid (will someone please find him a copy editor?), and the outsider/insider/still looking in view of Paris life is dishy, snarky and funny. And thanks to Lebovitz, I now have a handy cheat sheet on how not to annoy the French next time I find myself in Paris. But it begins to feel like a slog after 10 chapters, and the ceaseless list of gripes about Parisians gets seriously old. By the end, I was wondering why on earth he chooses to live there.

Also, the recipes. Lebovitz is a pastry chef and cookbook author, so recipes are inevitable (and welcome), but they feel shoehorned in at odd places - almost like he had a particular recipe in mind and used it as the peg to write a chapter that sort of maybe might have something to do with it in the broadest possible way. To that I say: Blog.