![]() ![]() The chapter titles-”Truffles”, “Lingua con le Olive”, “Steak”, and more-function as thrilling set pieces, but together they shape the story and, like a food blog with a thousand words before getting to the recipe, create powerful suspense, even as the recursive storytelling reveals the gory outcomes from the start. Everything here is true because, really, why would I lie.” It’s not a question.ĭorothy Daniels, we quickly learn, is a preternaturally hot, smart, 50-something food critic who also happens to develop a penchant for harvesting, prepping, and eating her boyfriends’ select body parts. Let me pause to tell a story from when I was a little girl. I started this story, for example, somewhere near the end, but that doesn’t make it any less true. Stories are, like justice or a skyscraper, things that humans fabricate. ![]() ![]() But that narrative structure is only as true as time, which is to say it’s as much a construct as a house or a dress or a turducken. “People tend to think,” narrates Dorothy Daniels, who we learn early on is in prison for murder and more, “that the most natural stories begin at their beginning and unwind through their middle to their completion, and sometimes they do. ![]()
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