Comfort Me with Apples by Ruth Reichl

Author:Ruth Reichl [Reichl, Ruth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-375-50704-5
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2001-03-24T16:00:00+00:00

* * *

Michael agreed to come, but I could tell that he was uncomfortable about succumbing to the lure of lunch with a famous writer. He sat in hostile silence as we drove. I chattered on, too much, trying to fill the air between us. “Just shut up,” I kept telling myself.

Then I began to worry about having a panic attack on the bridge. By the time I was pulling onto the Golden Gate Bridge my palms were wet and I could barely breathe. I can’t do this, I thought. But then I saw that they had closed the lane closest to the rail for painting, and I realized that if things got bad I could pull over. It was like an escape clause, and it was all I needed.

It was beautiful on the Marin side, the hills like soft, dark humps above the Bay, and it got even lovelier as we drove north. By the time we turned off the highway, heading toward the delta, the air was smooth and we rolled down our windows. When I glanced over at Michael, the harsh lines in his face had gone away and he looked young, even vulnerable. “How did you get to know her?” he asked.

“I wished,” I said, “wished so hard I actually made it happen. I’ve been reading M. F. K. Fisher since I was a little girl. For years, when nobody else had any intelligent interest in food, she was always there. It made me feel okay about myself, you know?”

He nodded, but said nothing.

“She can make you taste things just by writing about them, but that’s not the point. She actually makes you pay attention to your next meal, feel more alive because you’re doing that. When you read her you understand that you need to respect yourself enough to focus on the little things of life. She celebrates the everyday by making it seem momentous.”

I realized that I was doing my best to make my subject seem worthy to this radical who had given up so much for his principles. But all he said was “You’re very beautiful when you’re animated like this.”

“I knew that she lived in Sonoma, but I never would have just called and asked to meet her. I mean, it seems like such an intrusion. But I was wondering how I could manage it when Ms. magazine asked if I would write a profile.”

“Ms.,” he said, sounding impressed. I felt a surge of pride. “How did it go with them?”

I hesitated. Should I tell the truth? And then I recklessly plunged forward. “Not as smoothly as it might have. When I first went to see Mary Frances she said I could interview her on the condition that I let her read the piece before I turned it in.”

“You agreed?” he said, sounding appalled. “You let her read it before publication?”

I was sheepish. “I didn’t know you weren’t supposed to do that. My editor was horrified. But I’d given my word.”

“What happened?” he asked, very cool again.

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