Risbridger rambles in slightly sideways and usually charming fashion ... Watercolor illustrations bring the recipes to life, contributing to the book's slightly dreamy feel. Risbridger's recipes, both in form and content, swing between simple and fiddly, though all are within reach of dedicated home cooks. While metric measurements may confuse American readers, Risbridger gives plenty of hints and helpful tips, making the narrative sound even more like standing in a kitchen with a chatty friend ... Risbridger writes sensitively about grief.
... another deeply personal cookbook of healing recipes ... She weaves beautiful, journal-like prose among the recipes, taking the reader through the year with observations and personal reflections. Recipes are charmingly simplistic, encouraging the reader to rummage in the fridge for substitutions, and are accompanied by funny and equally endearing origin stories. Inexperienced cooks might be daunted by the use of metric measurements and the often-casual directions, such as an imprecise reference to a 'small baking tray' when making three-ingredient brownies. But veteran home cooks will take pleasure in the kitchen improvisation, just like the author does. (By the way, make the brownies.) This is a must for cookbook readers and Risbridger’s fans, who will love curling up with this sequel and again enjoy how food, and the art of cooking it, have the power to heal.
... sumptuous ... Even in recalling her grief, Risbridger’s narration is buoyed by humor, and the book’s charming watercolor illustrations make it all the more worth savoring. Readers will find this a treat.
... luminous memoir about grieving, renewal and the twin consolations of friendship and cooking ... Sweetly illustrated ... a poignant sequel ... The two books are a gift to readers and cooks alike, although, for Risbridger’s sake, let’s hope that there are no additions to the bittersweet series anytime soon ... Risbridger’s recipes are discursive and poetic with suggestions for how we can savor even the cooking process itself more deeply ... Again and again she asks us to slow down and relish what is at hand, to look closely and lovingly at the beauty and wholeness of the quotidian ... Has anyone ever written such a lyrical tribute to Top Ramen? Is it perhaps a tad overripe? You can oversell the intoxicating wonders of the ordinary (or drab or difficult) and Risbridger sometimes does so...Likewise, the solace of small comforts can be exaggerated, as in an unreadable interlude about chicken soup...Her meandering three-page recipe for this magical elixir may test your tolerance for the twee...But these excesses do not spoil the book, which is, for the most part, wise and tender, a reminder that however gloomy your situation, the world abounds in beauty, should you choose to see it. You might be filled with dread, but there are birthday cakes to frost, friends to drink with, fish pies to bake