"Clever and witty."--"Chicago Tribune"
"The writing is offbeat, achieving the trick of seeming at once grounded and untethered. . . . Elemental acuity and the burlesque combine here to delicious effect."--"Kirkus Reviews "(starred)
"A joyous revelry in good food even when the memories evoked are bittersweet."--"USA Today"
"Mixes humor and wisdom. . . . Full of piquant philosophical asides and fascinating culinary lore."--"San Francisco Chronicle"
"Opincar's bites-of-passage are ruefully funny."--"The New York Times Book Review"
Foods, flavors, textures, aromas are like memories for Abe Opincar. He remembers leaving his wife the night he baked chicken, being criticized by French hosts for not properly eating ripe peaches with a knife and a fork, eggs sunny side up and first sex, cornmeal mush and his dotty aunt, garlic and his father's love. We might look at a photograph or memento. Opincar's recollections are summoned by food.
His life in California, Kyoto, Jerusalem, Paris, Istanbul and Tijuana is all called up by flavors that bring back the moments and places and people he broke bread with and loved. What's recalled and savored is sometimes laugh-out-loud funny, or insightful and poignant, but it is always witty and penetrating and wholly beguiling. We eat what we are. Food is life, and Opincar relishes it.
Abe Opincar has published countless articles and writes for "The San Diego Reader and Gourmet." He lives in Southern California and New York.