My mom insisted that I read this book because my career paths and quandries are remarkably similar to Ms. Ring's. I'm about 3/4 through it and I have to confess that the writing has so befuddled me that I've started skimming over the family history parts to get to the narrative of her restaurant stories, in fact I'm longing for even just ten uninterrupted pages of ANY straight narrative, preferably without walnut analogies or metaphors.

If you're trying to decide whether you should read this book, let me give you a food analogy to help you out. This book is like a fruitcake. Densely packed with tasty tidbits and each and every tidbit is in every single bite. There's no escaping the pineapple if you don't like pineapple, no escaping the nuts either.

The restaurant stories are entertaining, especially for anybody who's been in the industry; the family stories are compelling (and really deserve their own straight narrative, not this chopping up to accentuate Ms. Ring's life), the recipes look great and make me wish it were late summer so I could make that peach cake. The walnut facts and analogies are so tedious they make me want to cry.

Basically I'm going to skip to the end of the book to figure out what she does (goes to work for a caterer? Opens her own pastry shop? Does she every marry Eric? Under a walnut tree in Central Park?) and I'm sorry, all you great grandmas and uncles.....I'd love to spend some time with you to get to know you, but you're too confusing a gaggle.

Ms. Ring. In your next book, how about just a straight story, set in the not too distant past....some historical fiction based on your relatives and ancestors? That farm in Argentina--that's a great story-- imagine being that woman holding the farm together, trying to keep a kosher kitchen when all there is to burn is dried cow patties. You've got the material, now all you need is the time, right? Yeah, ha ha.

I really liked this book because I could identify with the author on every level: artist, baker, family member. An intricately woven story of life in the 1990's as seen through the eyes of a struggling female artist and the generations of women who proceeded her. I love how each chapter ends with a recipe she struggles with during the course of the story and how food and walnuts are used as metaphors for life.

There are those among us who read cookbooks like normal people read novels. If you are among this group, you will rejoice at Nancy Ring's evocative memoir, "Walking on Walnuts." This lovely book braids delectable recipes (Burnt Orange Ice Cream, Peach and Honey Upside-Down Cake, among many others) together with tales of the author's family and the story of her own path towards professional and personal fulfillment.

Nancy Ring held a number of positions as pastry chef in some of New York City's finest restaurants, all without benefit of culinary school training. She learned to bake from her grandmothers, and she learned to create recipes from her own imagination. Her progress from utter novice to confident chef is fascinating, especially because she never seeks to pull the wool over her readers' eyes. She knows she's inexperienced, and she's not above naïveté and wonder as she traverses the Manhattan restaurant world--a world which shows its magic to the public and saves its horrors for those who create the magic. This only adds to the absorbing narrative tension of the story.

To protect the innocent and not-so-innocent, Ring has altered the names of the restaurants which employed her, as well as the names of most of her co-workers. My favorite section takes place in the first restaurant to take a chance on Ring's as-yet-unproved baking talents; she works under a sassy woman named Arana who takes relish in appearing at the restaurant's staff holiday party dressed as a formally set dinner table:

"She walked straight up to the chef and placed herself directly in front of him. Arana was very tall, and in those heels she towered over the chef, who stood barely over five feet. Her breasts were nearly exactly level with his eyes. When I tell you the crowd was disintegrated in laughter, I mean it. 'Arana,' the chef said in a tone somewhere between shock and appreciation . . . 'This is a party, not a watermelon sale.' Knock-down, all-out, knee-slapping laughter. Somebody yelled, 'Touché!' 'Hmmpf,' said Arana, real Mae West style, 'don't you know what I am?' . . . 'No, I don't,' he laughed. Arana stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at the crowd until they quieted a little. Then, when she was sure they would all hear her, she turned back to the chef, enjoying her captive and her audience. 'Would you like a bite?' she smirked. 'I'm the tart of the day.' "

This is the type of book you immediately want to go out and buy for friends. Ring's own illustrations punctuate each chapter; in addition to being a pastry chef and writer, she is a talented artist. I can hardly imagine a more enjoyable read for anyone who enjoys cooking as much as they enjoy a fast-moving, well-plotted story.