Reichl's solution - create alternate 'selves', complete with their own personalities and quirks, and take them out to a meal (she deliberately built her personae to not encode for the status that would guarantee her a world-class experience) - is simple and elegant, and the book itself is an engaging interaction with the idea of national privilege and identity as it plays out on restuarant tables.

The problems she was facing were twofold: one, she wanted to cover a wider range of food than the previous 'snooty French' coverage the NYT had tended to, thus necessitating not only developing a way to consistently evaluate cross-food-ethnicity, but also a way to convince Yr Av'g Noo Yawka that these cuisines were worthy of attention - but more importantly, two, it was impossible to evaluate what kind of dining experience a 'normal' person would have in the cut-throat, status-based New York City restaurant scene. I vaguely remember bits and pieces of the controversy when Reichl took over the reins, but this book really blew the whole thing open. Reichl served as the New York Times food critic from 1993 to 1999, and this book is about her years as 'The New York Times Food Critic' - but it's also about her struggle to evade the identity of The New York Times Food Critic (tm) and get people an honest, egalitarian review of what, exactly, they're going to get out of their meal. Garlic and Sapphires is a wildly entertaining chronicle of Reichl's New York Times years. The resulting reviews were hilarious and sobering, full of fascinating insights and delicious gossip. As a result, she had a totally different dining experience as say, Miriam the Jewish mother than she did as Ruth Reichl the reviewer, and she wasn't afraid to write about it. Amassing a wardrobe of wigs and costumes, she deliberately disguised herself so that she would not receive special treatment. She brought a fresh writing style to her reviews and adopted a radical way of getting them.

Many loved it, the Establishment hated it, but her influence was significant. Reichl, with a highly developed knowledge and love of Asian cuisine from her years as a West Coast food critic, began to review the small simple establishments that abound in Manhattan, Brooklyn and Queens. Gone were the days when only posh restaurants with European chefs were reviewed. When Reichl took over from the formidable and aloof Bryan Miller as the New York Times' restaurant reviewer, she promised to shake things up.

Garlic and sapphires book