I'm rereading, for the umpteenth time, The Maltese Falcon, by Dashiell Hammett. I don't know what it is about that book, but every time I read it the characters seem just as fresh and rich, the prose as clean and spare, as the first few times around. Once, about twenty years ago, I'd actually memorized that long closing scene where Sam Spade tells Brigid O'Shaugnessy he's turning her in. "When a man's partner is killed he's supposed to do something about it...." It's a wonderful book. And the characters don't spend all their time on iPhones.

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Also, I know it doesn't qualify necessarily as a "Good Read," at least not in the classic sense, but may I just say that Dorie Greenspan's cookbook Around my French Table is one of the best cookbooks I've ever read/used. Last night: Pork loin stuffed with swiss chard, onion, and garlic. Superb.