For anyone who wishes to understand the process of news gathering, this book is the best available. I use it in all my international news classes at Scripps School of Journalism. Rosenblum extracts from his lifetime of journalism a clear, logical and comprehensive explanation of how the story you read got there, and what influences affected its selection and presentation at every stage of the process. It's also a fascinating and exciting read, by one of the world's most prolific and professional journalists. He introduces you to individual correspondents, both as individuals and as types. He explains how geography, economics and sheer prejudice can determine what you learn about the world. He tells great bar stories -- the kind of thing journalists tell each other over a beer. And he does it all with skill and style. Worth reading by anyone -- a must for anyone interested in news.

A great book. Even though it focuses primarily on american media, it's lesson can be applied in all parts of the world: We need to start making demands on the media, instead of letting it dictate what we need to know. An eye-opener.

Actually living on a boat on the Seine is a pain in the backside with leaks, breakdowns and constant maintenance. *Reading* about living on a boat on the Seine is, however, better than being there. Even though this is non-fiction, colorful characters fill the pages. If you love France, you'll love this book about the river through its heart. Rosenblum's writing is supple and never gets in the way.

As an olive lover, I bought this book as soon as I saw it. Rosenblum discusses the sociological, historical, literary, religious, political, medicinal, geographic, gastronomic, gustatory, criminal, commercial, cultural, and horticultural world of olives, and the passionate and quirky people who love them. Throughout the book, the author describes his own journey from olive indifference to olive lover and grower.

If you like travel writing, this book will especially appeal to you as you follow Rosenblum around the world in his quest for knowledge about, as he describes it in the book's title, this "Noble Fruit." Even if you are not fanatical about olives and olive oil--which I am--it is still a fun, fascinating read.

If I could give this book more stars, I would.

This book presents a very comprehensive overview of olives, olive oil, and olive producers in a style that is part travelogue, part anthropology, and part history (without footnotes). Rosenblum takes us on a tour of the Mediterranean, from France, to Palestine, Greece to Tunisia, and Spain to Bosnia. In each locale, he interviews local olive growers on the way they tend their trees, pick their fruit, and press their oil, and of course, he never refuses a sample. I found the first chapter, which started with some literary-historical introductions a little shaky, but after that I couldn't put the book down. Rosenblum's explanations as to why different olive oils have varying qualities were very clear. They will come in handy next time I'm faced with selecting a brand of olive oil at the market. Although Rosenblum mentions the curing of olives in each country, most of the text focuses on the production of oil. I would have been interested in reading more about table olives, but perhaps that's because I'm living in Dubai, where every supermarket deli counter has a minimum of 20 different kinds of olives to choose from. Even though this book is not a cookbook, it does contain a handful of recipes.

This is a beautiful book. If you enjoy olives, you'll find yourself caught up in Mort Rosenblum's warm, engaging writing style. I've given several friends this book along with jars of olives and olive oil as a gift. Each time, the recipient has said they were surprised to receive a book about olives, but once they started reading it they couldn't put it down. This is definitely one of those wonderful word of mouth books that good cooks want to share with eachother.

I've been a reader of Stephens' work for some time, and enjoyed reading about the successes of various expats throughout the region. The reason this gets 3 stars is because every tale is about an expat who ends up having an almost 'storybook' adventure and, like all storybooks, lives happily ever after amongst their riches or in their castles. While a few of these stories sprinkled throughout the book would have added some vibrant color, an entire book of tales such as these was a bit much. I expected and would have appreciated the book to feature primarily regular-joe-type expats who are somewhat successful in Asia, yet still somehow have achieved successes that aren't out of reach of the average person with enough ambition.

This book tells how people not only dream of different lives, but live them. You too can share their joys as well as their misadventures. Visit with them and enjoy the tales of the famous and not so famous visitors they have intertained. How can you make a living when you had nothing to start with. This not a "how to" book but shows what can be done when you set your mind and heart to the task. Mostly the characters have raised above the crowd in their likes, desires, and true life experiences. Reviewed by Dave and Connie Pryor.

In this book, Stephens introduces the reader to some of the fascinating expatriate men and women he has come to know over the years. The stories are biographies of action photographers, artists, philosophers, entrepreneurs, sailors, environmentalists, and others, and are as varied and alluring as Southeast Asia itself. A word of caution: those who are dissatisfied with their present lives or occupations may be influenced by these characters and run off to distant lands seeking adventure or their own fortune

Multiculturalism nowadays simultaneously cries up the virtues of individual cultures (except American culture) and forbids anyone to critically analyze the character of cultures (except American culture). It's a wonder that anything worthwhile about nations and their people ever gets written anymore.

So the existence of this overlooked gem is a boon to anyone unraveling the Gordian complexities of French national character. Rosenblum takes us through history and around the globe, from Gaul to the mid-Eighties, and from Paris to La France Profonde to her old colonies-turned-proteges to France's furthest island outposts.

With delightfully wry turns of phrase-English and French-he admires and skewers the genuine greatness and the overbearing pomposity of the French. (Of particular current interest are the doings of the then-Foreign Minister: Jacques Chirac.) He interviewed seemingly hundreds of people, relates many amusing and thought-provoking anecdotes, and generalizes aptly and fairly.

Here are a few excerpts:

"A string of crumbling French crusader forts rises from high ground across the Levant. They protect nothing and represent little power, but they are still there, after eight centuries. Like France. In North Africa, the French loom large, balanced precariously at center stage. But in the Middle East, they are nowhere and everywhere, moving within a hall of mirrors that only the architects of Versailles could have fashioned."

"The oldest [colonial] buildings show graceful, almost delicate facades; but gates are high, carved doors are solid as iron, stone walls are massive. They were designed to stay cool under the sun, remind civil servants of home, impress the locals, and withstand the odd volley of paving stones should things turn nasty. Not surprisingly, the cathedral and the university were built to last.
The British, in their outposts, leaned toward wood-frame
buildings and corrugated tin, as if they did not want the overhead to cut into profits. There were, in essence, camping out. Not the French."

I was ecstatic about receiving this book for Christmas, as it was heavily touted on the local NPR station and on this site. My enthusiasm was not rewarded.

Mort Rosenblum has been to lots of parts of France and, on the way, taken good notes. He also is convinced that his experiences point to the decline of 'the better days' in French cuisine, etc. and that you will care. What he doesn't do, however, is help you care by telling you what brings that decline about, how to regain this Eden, if it's inevitable, what the moral to his tale is, etc.. In short, the cause is a nice platform for him to try out his tedious and bombastic style while he tells you what it's like in France a la Rosenblum.

Cuisine is, of course, not dead in France, though the country continues to change in the face of an evolving Europe and modernity encroaches, as ever it has. Rosenblum tells you that, but without taking the next logical step: urging you to go see it. If you can't go to France to experience directly all that entails for the lover of food (which you should, with an open mind and gastronomical vigor), pick up a humble and compelling tale like M.F.K. Fischer's _Long Ago in France_. If you do, you'll spare yourself the patronizing ramblings of Rosenblum that often strain for creativity and languish until they pass into the bizarre, as in this analogy, "Still, if Roquefort is marbling its way into the United States, the way those blue pockets spread in wheels of cheese, there is still some way to go."

The only way you can like this book is if you don't have an affinity for food writing or France to be offended or if your generous nature overwhelms your critical mind. Mr. Rosenblum needs you to say, "ain't that man clever." If you can't, you'll not gain from his book.

One of the best things I can say about this book is that I made it through to the end. While I love books about France and the French people, I feel that Rosenblum missed his mark. While his writing was good, it lacked passion, and was quite self-indulgent.

His travels take us on a culinary tour de France, but he seems detached and seems somewhat of a French cooking snob. If you don't know the names of the famous 3 Star Chef's and restaurants he takes his readers to, you feel a bit like an outsider looking in through the window. While there are some interesting side trips, like a visit to a truffle market, and an escargot farm, these are basically stories from a reporter's notebook. He is constantly trying to get the answer to the question about the changing role of food in France. The answer: like everything else, it is changing...and it is remaining the same.

With so many good books about France and cuisine, I would put this one down low on my list. Try - Paris To The Moon by Adam Gopnick; French Impressions: The Adventures of an American Family by John Littell; or Ruth Reichl's Tender on The Bone, or just about anything by M.F.K. Fischer.

I thought this book was excellent. I could not put it down. The author gives a realistic view of the present state of French cuisine. His background as a reporter shines through. His vast historical knowledge and penchant for facts and statistics gives the book credibility that many other food books do not really have.

His having captured the essence of French food and culture allows you to walk away with the feeling that while big fast food conglomerates have a growing presence, all hope is not lost. The conversations with everyone from Alain Ducasse to the captain of a fishing boat in Molene gives you pretty good idea of how the French feel about the unification of Europe, the laws coming from Brussels and about what lies in their future. He paints a picture of France beyond the tourist trap that is present day Paris and other excellent food beyond foie gras.

The author gives a very balanced view of the French. It is obvious that he is in love with France and all that goes with it but is not blind to it's faults. He often refers to the ego of the French and offers no apologies for many of his other criticisms.