This book is a memoir by the famous food writer M.F. K. Fisher about her childhood in Whittier California circa 1912 and on. The book was lavishly praised, but I found it tough going. The author repeats herself a lot, seeming to mention in every chapter, how her Uncle Mac sings "The Road To Mandalay", how her Mother lays on a divan all day reading English novels, how annoying her little sister Anne is and on and on and on.... She constantly mentions her Mother being pregnant all the time, but she only has three siblings , so not counting her own 9 month sojourn in the Mater's belly, she could only recall 21 months of her Mother's lingering ill condition. Add in a religious fanatic Grandmother and being Episcopalian in a Quaker city ( never in over forty years of living in Whittier, was Mary ever invited into a Quaker home) this was not the lighthearted tale, I was expecting. A look back at the good old days of religious intolerance, class prejudice & racism. Fisher is a good writer, but I doubt that I will follow her down any more memory lanes. One of my favorite lines was "Mother hated discomfort more than anything except hard work."