From Publishers Weekly
With seemingly photographic memory Fisher (1908-1992), the famous culinary writer recalls growing up in Southern California where her journalist father and snobbish, asocial mother moved in 1910, two years after her birth in Michigan. Rebelling against a stern grandmother who prohibited the use of spices, fats, alcohol and "the five senses" in the household, Fisher began "learning to live well gastronomically" around age six. She writes of spankings by her father, who had himself been physically abused as a child, and she divulges that for 25 years she imagined that a guardian spirit--a tiny ancient man--kept vigil under her bed while she slept. She rues her standoffish treatment of a Mexican classmate, revels in the "escape hatch" called San Francisco and describes a ring of girls who secretly disseminated sex information in boarding school. These warm reminiscences close as Fisher, a "lazy bum" in college, acts out a Scott-and-Zelda madcap fantasy with her husband, an English instructor.
Copyright 1992 Reed Business Information, Inc.
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
From the Inside Flap
The first volume of reminiscences by one of America's best-loved writers. "Vintage Fisher. . . . (Her diaries and stories) bathe her youth and beauty in a golden light like the stuff of Gustave Dore engravings, the light of a better place and a better time when people were still made out of heroics."--Washington Post Book World.