Bryan's Reviews > The Sweet Life in Paris: Delicious Adventures in the World's Most Glorious - and Perplexing - City

Annoying, a bit.

Not my kind of book to begin with, but it was interesting enough for me to finish. Lebovitz has such an interesting way of describing his view of the Parisians. Very funny most of the time.

I didn't read his recipes--they're not why I read the book in the first place--which made the book that much faster to read. He likes things like creme and milk and butter and sugar. I willing to bet his food is delicious and dangerous.

But let's get down to the real point here: he needs to grow some aggression. Although he loves the men in Paris and how they dress, he is mortally afraid of the women, old or young, and of bumping into anyone on the sidewalk, on the bus, or waiting in a queue. He makes it sound like they are all out to get him, to run him over while driving through the roundabout, but it's easy enough to see that he really should be eating more beef and less sugar. Annoyed by a painter who is taking so long to paint his apartment, his passive aggressive ways lead him to asking friends for advice, who tell him to simply put the painter's supplies outside and let him get the hint, which advice he happily and weakly follows.

I think he fears French women the most. He has a French woman who cleans his house. While she cleans, he leaves, but is irritated by how long it takes her because he can't stand to be there at the same time. Makes me want to say "Hey, Lebovitz, man up! If you don't want your employee spending so much time cleaning (or painting) your flat, tell her to scram, fire her, or tell her to work faster because she annoys you! It's your house." It gives me great pleasure just knowing that the fearless and very forward Jordan Ferney is there to restore America's aggressive reputation (200 years of which reputation was almost entirely destroyed by Lebovitz's single book). http://ohhappyday.com

Heaven forbid he would have to have a confrontation! Or stand close to someone at the market.

He also has a habit of closing his chapters, or essays I'll call them, with an attempt to be cute and tie together all of the punchlines used up to that point. I liked it the first time, but then it got too rich.

Maybe that is it--maybe his book was meant to be savored over time, like over-sweetened ganache, while slowly trying each recipe before moving on the to next essay.

In that case, it was probably too much for me, but a very timid and sweet book.