The autobiographical musings of a New Yorker cartoonist told to his old friend, and filled with wit, humanity and philosophical gems. Stories of escaping from the fascist police in Italy, too lazy to brutally arrest people at the usual invisible ungodly hour. Or civic life in 1950s Washington, and the charming people who knew exactly how to be courteous and to dismiss those who didn't belong. Or the poor white in kentucky, like protagonists out of American fiction, whereas the bourgeoisie, respectable people, "always the same". And Magritte's discovery of multiple sources of light in a painting (sun, streetlamp, electric light inside a house, the moon, reflections of light. Or American gastronomy, in which "the taste of the nation are governed by the tastes of children".

This is the second book I've read by Mr. Buzzi in the past week and it is an odd experience indeed! He writes very well, but.........everything is so disconnected, almost stream-of-consciousness. When you've finished, you don't feel like you've read "a book". It's more like jazz....like you've been "reading" jazz. It's improvisational. If you don't mind all the jumping around from thought-to-thought and topic-to-topic, it's ok, but I happen to find it very annoying. It's almost as though Mr. Buzzi just started writing some random thoughts after he had downed a couple of double espressos!

If you want some kind of traditional structure and coherent narrative I don't think you'll enjoy this book. However, if you want something that is written well,(in terms of sheer virtuosity) with lots of literary references that you can identify with, this just might be right up your alley...

Here is an example, from a section of the book dealing with St. Petersburg: "The Stroganov mansion is at the corner of the Prospekt and the Moika canal, where Prince Yusupov threw Rasputin, who had survived poison and pistol shots. Throwing people into the Moika was a custom. Dolokhov, Pierre, and their companions (War And Peace) seized the commissar of police, who was hurrying to arrest them, bound him shoulder to shoulder with a bear, and threw the pair into the Moika. Thieves were thrown into the Fontanka."

Notice how Mr. Buzzi mixes together real people from history with fictional characters? Oh, heck.......that bothered me too! I have a hard time trusting an author that does that. It makes me wonder if any of the autobiographical material is actually "real"!

This book is superb. Far more than just a travel book, it mixes philosophy, opinion, insight and comedy in one recipe. If you like to travel (or just think about travel)....this book is time well spent.

This is an odd book, part travel reminiscence and part random musing. The essays hop and skip about through history, literature, and culture. There are no obvious themes, but an appreciation of oddities of life is throughout. I find it charming, and re-read it frequently.

I'm sorry to say that I was very disappointed by this book. When they say "notes" in the subtitle, they are not kidding! As the previous reviewer mentioned, there are moments of glittering prose. The section on food hangs together pretty well and is the strongest part of the book. Unfortunately, that portion is sandwiched (yes, both puns are intended) between two other sections that cry out for the services of a good editor. This isn't really a book, it's a conglomeration of unrelated "stuff". It's almost as though Mr. Buzzi went through a drawer and just pulled out things he had jotted down over the years and handed the material to his publisher and said, "Here, you want to please make a book out of all this!?". The final section, "Notes On Travel", is the worst offender! It takes up about 20 pages of the book (since the entire book is only 95 pages, we are talking about a pretty good-sized hunk) and reads like a bunch of notes that were written on some paper napkins when the author stopped at various roadside restaurants between New York City and Charleston, South Carolina. Actually, to be precise, the author devotes 6 pages to a trip to 8 countries in Central and South America and 11 pages to an 11 day trip back and forth between NYC and South Carolina. If you think you are getting the "bum's rush" on one of those package tours, you'll feel fortunate after checking out this section.......

So, why even give this "book" 3 stars? As I mentioned at the start of this review, some of the prose is wonderful, especially in the food section. Check out this gem: "I believe that Talleyrand was able to invent dishes even without the help of his cook. The 'garniture Talleyrand', a sublime sauce for macaroni- butter, cheese (Gruyere and Parmesan), little cubes of foie gras, and truffles-is a recipe that for its golden simplicity and, at the same time, the princely richness of its ingredients can only have come directly from his brain. In France, truffles are found in Perigord, Talleyrand's real name was Talleyrand-Perigord, and in winter, to protect himself from the cold, he often wore a knit cap of black wool, with two long earflaps that hung down on either side of his face like the ears of a truffle hound."

Great stuff! Unfortunately, after reading this book you leave the table hungry.....

I originally sought out the book for its notes on gastronomy but the small piece on the author's affection for his old shoes is alone worth the price of admission. His fresh observations on food and its preparation are, however, worth rereading and passing on to good friends. Its rare, no, make that near impossible, to find a writer who can engage a reader with fresh (and literary) approaches to the subject and mix in tasty tidbits like Kafka's eating habits and James Fenimore Cooper's "Lunch Club". And in the fewest words possible -unlike the gasbags that dominate the field. The author savors food, the people who grow, prepare and serve food and the assorted guests at the table. And he will make you laugh out loud!