(Published by Random House NZ)
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In Eating with the Angels, Sarah-Kate Lynch has put reviewers in a bit of a pickle. The story, which starts off with New York Times restaurant reviewer Connie Farrell en route to Venice for her second honeymoon – but without her husband, takes the reader on some strange and weird sidetracks which it really wouldn’t be fair to reveal. Let it be enough to say that the book takes you on a whistle-stop tour of Venetian restaurants and food, the hang-ups and obsessions of New York foodies – and manages to throw a romantic plot into the equation for good measure.
It’s written in Lynch’s trademark flippant style and, while it’s not great literature by any means, it does hit the spot for when you just want to curl up and immerse yourself in a novel. Beware of her food describing abilities however, or you may find yourself having to haul yourself out of bed in search of a midnight snack to fill the stomach that’s been targeted by the delicious sounding basil gnocchi with veal ragout, Delmonico’s lobster Newburg or sardines stuffed with breadcrumbs, orange juice, raisins, pine nuts, olive oil and parsley. Even writing those descriptions has its effect – it must be time for lunch
Before I have to disappear, just let me say that Sarah-Kate Lynch’s latest is a fresh, and often funny, take on the whole idea of chick fic. A tasty bit of nonsense. 
An Interview with Sarah-Kate Lynch
