So, this book made me really sit back and realize that, yes, I grew up in an unsophisticated hick town. Our only foreign language classes offered in High School (not before either) were Spanish I, II, III, and IV. There was no French…which The Debt to Pleasure made crystal clear. It was very much beyond my comprehension of off-handed French jokes. The book should have a disclaimer on the cover: Warning: Contains French!

It’s not a bad book…I mean, it got stellar reviews. But there’s a fine line between clever and stupid…and a find line between pompous/funny and pompous/annoying…The book fell into the latter category on both counts for me. There were funny points—in English even—but for the most part I was just trying to finish the thing so I could move on to my next foodie book.

The last few chapters caught my attention because the narrator goes mushroom hunting. That I could understand! Amanitas of all sorts, Boletus— yum yum. And his opinions and knowledge of fungi were all in line with mine which was lovely…then the book ended…I just understood something the narrator said and it was over! *Sigh*

I think if you know French (at least a little), you’ll enjoy this book. I could see where it was supposed to be funny, the jokes just went right over my head. If you don’t know French, don’t bother…I guess I’m just not sophisticated enough for the world of Tarquin Winot.