From the Publisher
"Worthy of a standing ovation."
The New York Times
"Exceptional....[I]f the late Julia Child's mantra was 'Never apologize,' Jay Rayner takes the opposite tack in Eating Crow....An entertaining story."
Los Angeles Times
"A delicious satire of gourmandise and geopolitics."
The Wall Street Journal
This amuse-gueule of a plot is followed by a main course worthy of an ovation.
The New York Times
The life of a merciless restaurant critic takes a dramatic turn when he discovers the intoxicating pleasure of penitence in this savory spoof. Moved to offer his apologies to the bereaved wife of a chef who commits suicide after reading an unforgiving review, Marc Basset has an epiphany: "I felt wonderful." Inspired, he embarks on a hunt to find all the victims of his lifelong cruelty (there are plenty) and offer them the apologies they deserve. During one especially tearful and eloquent admission of guilt, Basset's talent is recognized, and he's immediately whisked away to become the chief apologist for the U.N.'s nascent Office of Apology. Basset's new role affords him luxurious perks as he apologizes for what feels like every distasteful event in history, most of which his family has some infamous connection with. Perhaps inevitably, his triumphs turn sour, and he fears he's become a monstrous clich machine. Rayner, the restaurant critic for the London Observer, takes a wonderfully impossible, although nowadays not completely far-fetched, notion and follows it to its conclusion with irrepressible humor and sarcasm. Agent, Joy Harris. (Aug.) Forecast: A blurb from Anthony Bourdain ("A very funny book about apologies-by someone who has a lot to apologize for") should catch the eye of foodies, as should Rayner's luscious descriptions of the meals his protagonist cooks. Copyright 2004 Reed Business Information.
Food critic with one kill to his name is thrown into remorse and ends up as the world's official conscience-in an occasionally amusing debut by the restaurant critic for the London Observer . When a despondent chef kills himself by climbing into an large bread oven, he tapes to its door Marc Basset's review stating that said chef's food was so bad he deserved to be on death row. This sends Basset into a spiral of soul-searching, after which he decides that he will no longer write negative reviews. Given that the rotund gourmand, compensating with food and vitriol for a mostly unhappy childhood and unlucky love life, is especially known for his poison pen, this leaves his editor with little choice but to give him the boot. During Basset's time of self-flagellation, he comes to the conclusion that he needs to apologize to everyone he had wronged in his past, a quest that culminates when he tracks down the woman to whom he lost his virginity in college so that he can apologize for boasting about it to his pals later. Not thinking too much about how odd it is that she wants to videotape his confession, the unemployed Basset finds his teary visage being e-mailed around the world; people can't get enough of how dramatically contrite he is. One twist of fate later, he has been named Chief Apologist for the United Nations. First major assignment: apologize officially to the African-American community for slavery. It should be a devastatingly funny, but Rayner is unfortunately, though unsurprisingly, much more comfortable with food (the scenes of Basset cooking are simply unfair they're so mouthwatering) than with geopolitical satire. This British newcomer deserves praise for not hewing to a moresimple black-comic narrative, but like Basset, he flies too high, too fast and gets burned for his efforts. Agent: Joy Harris/Joy Harris Literary Agency
Read an Excerpt
I am sorry you bought this book. If it was given to you as a gift, then technically I am not required or even entitled to apologize to you. My apology should go to the original purchaser and they, in turn, should say sorry. To be honest, though, I can't be bothered with any of those rigid laws and rules anymore. I can see they are needed for diplomatic exchanges, and as a onetime exponent of the art of the international apology the leading exponent, I suppose I was constantly grateful that the Professor had gone to the bother of formulating all the laws in the first place. But they have their time and their place and this isn't one of them.
The point is, I'm sorry this book was bought. Somewhere along the line somebody has been conned by the smart-ass cover art which the art director obviously thought would set it apart from all the other guff on the bookshop shelves (and which, admittedly, did the trick, or it wouldn't be in your hands now). Beautiful trees have been destroyed needlessly to make the paper. Then there's the grievous waste of oil-based ink. And we mustn't forget the obscenely large cash advance paid on this insidious doorstop which will, inevitably, result in the publisher having to spend its remaining money on banal, dead-certain bestsellers to the exclusion of anything new, interesting, or challenging. Finally, of course, there's the waste of your time, should you be one of those people who insist upon finishing a book once they've started it, and I know there are a lot of you out there.
I admit and under the Professor's first law, I am required to admit that I am not sorry about absolutely everything in this book. There's some pretty good writing between pages 129 and 133. I like the descriptions of my father, which are honest, and I always will have a warm place in my heart for the tasting menu of chocolate dishes in chapter 29. It really was as good as I make it sound.
As for the rest of it, I think you probably get the idea by now. I'm sorry. I'm just so bloody sorry.
Copyright © 2004 by Jay Rayner