I received Julia Child's memoir My Life in France as a Christmas present from my friend. The title was my request; another option I considered was The Elegance of the Hedgehog. I'm having a lovely time reading about Child's culinary adventures in France (Paris and Marseille especially), and the book is a great inspiration to anyone who wants to learn how to cook i.e. me. Why does it seem that fiction which revolves around food appeals to me? Under the Tuscan Sun comes to mind here. The rustic simplicity of Italian food described in the former and the elegant sophistication of French food in My Life in France are equally intriguing. For that matter, my taste buds appreciate almost any kind of cuisine. Maybe it's because memories of a place, for me, are intimately associated with the local food that I understand the spirit of these books.