If You Can't Take the Heat: Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury

by Geraldine DeRuiter

From the James Beard Award–winning blogger behind The Everywhereist come hilarious, searing essays on how food and cooking stoke the flames of her feminism.

When celebrity chef Mario Batali sent out an apology letter for the sexual harassment allegations made against him, he had the gall to include a recipe—for cinnamon rolls, of all things. Geraldine DeRuiter decided to make the recipe, making food journalism history along with it. Her subsequent essay, with its scathing commentary about the pervasiveness of misogyny in the food world, would be read millions of times, lauded by industry luminaries from Martha Stewart to The New York Times restaurant critic Pete Wells—and it would land DeRuiter in the middle of a media firestorm. She found herself on the receiving end of dozens of threats when all she wanted to do was make something to eat (and okay, maybe also take down the patriarchy).

In If You Can’t Take the Heat, DeRuiter shares stories about her shockingly true, painfully funny (and sometimes just painful) adventures in gastronomy. We’ll learn how she finally got a grip on her debilitating anxiety by emergency meal–planning for the apocalypse. (“You are probably deeply worried that in times of desperation I would eat your pets. And yes, I absolutely would.”) Or how she learned to embrace her hanger. (“Because women can be a lot of things, but we can’t be angry. Or president, apparently.”) And how she inadvertently caused another international incident with a negative restaurant review. (She made it on to the homepage of The New York Times’s website! And got more death threats!)

Deliciously insightful and bitingly clever, If You Can’t Take the Heat is a fresh look at food and feminism from one of the culinary world’s sharpest voices.

Genres: Nonfiction, Memoir, Feminism, Food, Essays, Audiobook, Humor

316 pages, Hardcover

First published March 12, 2024

About the author

Geraldine DeRuiter is founder of The Everywhereist blog, which TIME magazine described as "consistently clever" (note: Geraldine brings this up a lot. Even when it's not pertinent to the conversation). While ostensibly a travel writer, she also writes extensively about desserts she's enjoyed as well as Jeff Goldblum's entire filmography. Rather miraculously, her work has also garnered the attention of FORBES Magazine, which listed her blog as one of its Top 10 Lifestyle Websites for Women for 3 consecutive years, and THE INDEPENDENT, who included her on their list of 50 Best Travel Websites. (So, you know, that TIME thing was not just a fluke or a result of the editorial team getting drunk.)

When not on the road with her long-suffering and infinitely patient husband, Rand, Geraldine can be found in Seattle, usually fighting with people on the internet.

Reviews

[Stitching Ghost]

This book is part of what I like to call the cozy feminism genre. It's not a bracing call to the barricades that asks you to completely reconsider the world we live in but it's a validation of (some of) our experiences and an honest look at the absurdity of diet culture (and how it morphed into the more pervasive wellness culture) and how we fall for it.

DeRuiter shares her experience of being a woman with an online presence in a way that I found quite refreshing and very validating.

My reading experience was akin to sitting with a friend, it's not necessarily going to change your life but it's going to make you feel seen and somewhat sane for a moment.

There are a lot of eminently quotable lines in there and great quips about Florida (who doesn't love dunking on Florida these days?).

There's a bit about how in Quebec people eat the sacred host wafers that didn't quite meet the standard as a snack and I would like to add that we don't just eat retailles d'hosties we also eat the wafers that would have made it, it's like a whole thing here, we like our guilt that much (I can say that I'm technically still a Catholic with all the guilt that comes with it).

No rating because I do not rate memoirs but I really enjoyed my time with this book.

[Deanna · Rating 5 out of 5]

ARC courtesy of Crown Publishing.
Before reading this book I had no idea who Geraldine DeRuiter was. I now know she is a liberal feminist who unapologetically tells the truth about being a woman in the 21st century and I am here for it through every page. I don’t believe I have ever laughed out loud this much while reading a book. Her candor is refreshing and an absolute riot. It felt wonderful to have so many of my thoughts validated through Geraldine’s voice.

[Jessica · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book made me laugh really hard, cry really hard, get really angry, get really hungry . . . sometimes within the same paragraph. DeRuiter's writing is intimate, making you feel as though you're listening to your best friend rant, so you laugh with her, and then you get angry on her behalf. And when she talks about her husband, or her family, or foods that she loves, you smile and nod and want to hug them (or eat them, depending on if it's family or food), and you feel like you know them, and her, so well. Finishing the book was like realizing that you're not going to see your funny friend for a while, and it made me more than a little sad.

[Hayley · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book was fine. I found several of the chapters to be very relatable and funny, and I am glad I read the book to have experienced my favorite parts of it, but every chapter felt too long. It was also at about the 70% mark that I decided that I don’t find the author very likable and started rolling my eyes.

My last note is maybe the most egregious one: there’s reference to an iconic argument in Sex and the City where Carrie explains that while she’s not allergic to parsley, she has to say that she is so that restaurants take her request for no parsley seriously. DeRuiter says that this fight happens with Big, but it actually happens with Berger, and that’s when I lost faith in the editor.

[Lucy Johnston · Rating 3 out of 5]

I liked that it made me think about my first food memories. I liked the analysis of when/how women eat on TV.

But a lot of it felt kinda RGB-tote-bag cringe. I'm guessing many of these essays were written in 2014. Back then, I would've loved them! But that style of BuzzFeed-smash-the-patriarchy humor aged pretty poorly. Now, popular feminist writing seems to have a more serious tone and be more nuanced/intersectional. So it's jarring to time travel back to the "pizza rolls not gender roles" era.

[Debra Kane · Rating 2 out of 5]

Hackneyed. Not worth finishing.

[Mindy · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is *chef’s kiss* perfection. Geraldine is generous and insightful. And she’s so brave to exist as a woman with—gasp—opinions on the internet.

I loved reading her personal stories, some I’d heard before in some form and others completely new to me. While learning about Geraldine’s life in food, I was flooded with my own long forgotten food memories. This book helped me to appreciate all the ways in which our most meaningful relationships—with our families, our friends, our communities, and ourselves—are wrapped up in food.

I’m so glad to have gotten my hands on an advance reader’s copy. My only teeny tiny quibble with this book is that it doesn’t come with a box of homemade baked goods. But maybe the hard copy does, which is only one of the reasons I look forward to reading this again when it hits the shelves in a few months.

[Jennifer Mangler · Rating 3 out of 5]

I hadn't realized that I'd actually read some of DeRuiter's work before, until I got to chapter 12 (Bros'). The story of that meal is awful/hilarious and it was nice to revisit it (and I enjoyed how the author expanded on it). I also really enjoyed The Comments Section, In Case of Emergency: Break Fast, and most especially Gender Roles and Cinnamon Rolls. One frustration I had was that every essay felt a bit too long.

[Jane · Rating 1 out of 5]

Shocked this has >4 stars … when I started this book I had no idea that this was written by a food blogger and not a female chef. I continued listening but kept waiting for a discussion of her career or frankly any salient/interesting topics but instead what I got was: a hyperbolic, frankly obnoxious sense of humor; a lot of stories of minor inconveniences that the author/blogger turns into huge ordeals; a decided lack of plot, and so on.

Thoughts I had while listening to this book on tape:

If I hear one more attempted comedic line that makes an analogy to something I will scream. (Example ‘I devoured it like I hadn’t eaten in months’) etc. She has a particular proclivity for making an analogy and then coming back to it in the next sentence and it is so tired and cringe.

This author is trying soooo hard to be relatable (comments like ‘I shove food into my mouth constantly’ and ‘I hate myself!’ or something like this) and it’s painful to listen to.

The version of “feminism” and discussion of “oppression” that she is marketing is really just White feminism… I will credit the author with admitting to her own privilege as a White woman, but this felt like an admission made with no real weight behind it… why not tell more stories about the experiences of women of color working in the food industry? Why not use your platform to elevate other voices? She is a cis White female who is a travel blogger and works from home … she is not an authority on oppression.

In summation, this book felt like a rant at whatever bots are commenting on her essays or blog posts.

[Olavia Kite · Rating 5 out of 5]

I want to thank the New York Times for their review of this book, which I did not read. It came accompanied by an illustration that upset the author, made the rounds on social media, and piqued my curiosity—that’s how the book landed in my hands.

This is a phenomenal collection of essays. I didn’t know DeRuiter was the genius behind the famous blog entry on the worst Michelin-starred restaurant experience ever. I also didn’t know anything about the chaos that ensued after it was published. The chapter on Julie & Julia holds a special place in my heart (I’ve been trying to power through Julie Powell’s Cleaving for a while now). I could go on and on pointing at the things I loved about each and every chapter, but I’ll just say that this was a great read all around, insightful and hilarious, and I’m glad I found it.

[kimberly · Rating 5 out of 5]

the perfect mix of feminine rage, humor, and food—chef’s kiss.

[Chloe · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is sometimes funny, sometimes sweet, and often times poorly edited. Overall it was fine.

[Eve · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book was incredibly hard for me to finish. The author's humor really does not land for me. It's giving a 2014 buzzfeed ~pizza rolls not gender rolls~ vibe that I really do not like. This is very sad because I felt that some of the content could have been quite hard hitting if it was written with a more serious voice.

A few of these essay were great, most were pretty mid. I feel like a lot of what was explored in this book has been beat to death, but I did really enjoy the tie ins to the food/restaurant world.

Long story short, I have mixed feelings on this and I am now in the worst reading slump everrrr

[Morgan · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was an unexpected joy to read. I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed a book so much, I took photos of favorite sections. So many essays reminded me of my own memories around cooking, misogyny, and anger. The chapters “Secret Agents and Secret Recipes”, “The Only Thing In My Oven”, and “Old Haunts” were a few of my favorite chapters.

[Beth · Rating 4 out of 5]

I love feeling like I'm the target audience for a book. Under discussion here: Red Lobster, Florida being terrible (agreed!), depictions of women in pop culture, the treatment of women in restaurants (as both patrons and employees/chefs), her takedown of Mario Batali, baking an almost-lost-to-history pie for her grandfather-in-law, her horrible meal at a Michelin-starred restaurant (and the backlash to her review of it), etc. The Comments Section was particularly funny. This is girl power in food essay form.

[Hyunjin · Rating 4 out of 5]

When I saw this book from one of the book lists at the end of the year (maybe NPR?) I felt like I must read. I can't pass memoirs connecting with food.

Some of the stories infuriated me. I am so glad I don't do social media, but I am rethinking that I might be silent myself because of the fatigue from noise on the internet world.

I am aware of my internal rage so well. This book tells me there is nothing wrong with my rage.
4.5

[Pallavi · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 star
RTC
Happy Reading!!

[Monica Z · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.75 ⭐️

[Melissa · Rating 5 out of 5]

I am only 35% through this book, but here ya go: to date this is Geraldine's best. I have read/followed her for at least a decade. I waited almost a year for my library to procure a copy of this book, and for it to be my turn to check it out. Worth. The. Wait. Geraldine and I are the same age, and I find myself getting verklempt at times when she perfectly articulates a situation or feeling I find familiar.

[Maggie Ornelas · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book was fine. I found a lot of the chapters to be very relatable and funny. It had a lot of truth in it about food, writing and living in a female body. The reading was a bit tedious. It felt like it was going on and on.

[Annabel Gigley · Rating 4 out of 5]

Who knew food and gender politics were wound so tightly together

[Ami · Rating 4 out of 5]

The subtitle says it all. It was often funny, sometimes poignant, sometimes maddening, sometimes sweet.

I found her when the NYT book review focused on her personal traits, not her writing, including that her reasons for not having children weren’t good enough for them. Little did we know the judgments of choosing not to have children that were to come...

[Deanna · Rating 5 out of 5]

I don’t often literally mean that I laughed and cried, but I mean it this time: I cackled, I seethed, and at one point needed to put it down so I could go sob. Geraldine weaves her life and work into stories that are funny and deeply affecting. If she is “loud and irrational,” as the NYT review would have one believe, she is the kind of loud and irrational that so many of us are. Her work to make and keep a place for herself in the world is relatable and brave.

[Cerealflakes · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was an excellent book about food writing, travel, feminism and how women are treated on social media. Each essay has a different topic but all talk about one or all of these themes.

My favorite essays were the ones about how she became famous on social media and in the food writing community. I remember learning about her when she wrote about Mario batalli’s sexual harassment “apology,” which, oddly, included a bad recipe for cinnamon rolls. The other one was her essay about the aftermath of the review she wrote for a Michelin starred restaurant in Italy which was painfully pretentious and literally named “Bros.”

The author has a very strong sense of humor, which means there are lots of jokes and self-deprecating humor in the book. This book is a quick and engaging read.

[Annikky · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 rounded up. This is all well written and often very funny, it’s just that I’m getting tired of feminist essays that are saying all the right things that I already know. I feel that it’s in fact men who should read these books, these relatively beginner-friendly stories about female experience that present the tough bits in a witty sauce, so it’s less scary. But they almost never do.

I enjoyed that this focused on cooking and food culture and what it means to talk about these things online. If I had read all of it on paper, it would perhaps have been a full four - I found the tone of the audiobook a bit too intense for my taste. I still recommend the book, if you are less jaded than me, looking for this type of thing and not expecting anything earth-shattering.

[Michelle Trombetta · Rating 5 out of 5]

If You Can’t Take the Heat is a beautiful and powerful memoir that spoke to me deeply. As a fellow Italian-American woman raised in a world where food was both love and expectation, I related to so much of the author’s story. She captures perfectly how kitchens can be both nurturing and suffocating—how tradition, sexism, and power often sit side by side at the table. Her writing of misogyny in restaurants mirrored so much of what I’ve seen and felt myself when I waited tables. This book is not only a memoir, but also a sharp examination of the intersection of feminism and the misogyny that shapes how we cook, eat, and are treated both in and out of the kitchen. A moving, necessary read.


ChatGPT can make

[Julie · Rating 5 out of 5]

I took so many photos of paragraphs while reading this and so glad I saw DeRuiter talk about her book in person a few months ago (thanks Laura Levy!). Highly recommend this book of food writing/memoir/essays filled with moments that made me laugh out loud. And I also appreciated how frequently DeRuiter acknowledged her privilege as a cis white woman, and that she uses her voice to call out the racism, misogyny and homophobia in the world of food writing and in the restaurant industry.

[Brooke Linzmeier · Rating 4 out of 5]

A great blend of feminine rage and humor. Plus fun stories about food. I think my favorite part was when she referred to Bobby Flay as "an arrogant bowl of potato salad."

[Laura · Rating 5 out of 5]

i'd let this lady narrate my internal monolog

[Anne Marie · Rating 5 out of 5]

I just finished and want to go back immediately and reread several of the essays. I can’t seem to properly express how I found a similarity of understanding in some of the pieces (the heartbreaking essays about losing her father and a friendship ending) and just pure joy in several of her descriptions. Funny, spot-on observations, and emotional. This book made me feel a range of emotions in the best way. One of my favorite sentences, which I keep coming back to:
“You don’t get to ridicule someone’s body and demand that they hide it because you don’t like how looking at it makes you feel.”
Thiiiiiissssss!