Save Me the Plums: My Gourmet Memoir

Ruth Reichl knows about good food, and she knows good food writing. After years as the food critic for The New York Times, and then for years before at the Los Angeles Times, she decided to accept the job as Editor-in-Chief at Gourmet magazine. Reichl had a long relationship with Gourmet, from when she first found the magazine in a dusty used bookstore on an outing with her book designer father, through the years it lost its unique voice, through to her reign as editor. She was able to bring back the spark that Gourmet had, to let her creative team run wild with imagination and panache. She inspired the best young writers to its pages. She brought life to its covers. She helped unite the chefs of New York in celebrations and in charity work. Save Me the Plums is her memoir of her decade at Gourmet, from her early days where she felt she was out of her depth, through the years where the magazine recaptured its spirit and its voice, to the final days, where nothing was able to save the magazine from the depths of the nation’s financial devastation. Reichl’s stories are beautifully told, filled with textures and flavors, nuance and surprise, and just like the best gourmet meal, a dash of magic. I love reading her stories. She has a way of explaining how things change as they stay the same and how you can move forward by staying in place. And that story of Paris and the black dress? Absolutely breathtaking! If you’ve read Ruth Reichl before, then you know how special her writing is. You should buy this and devour it immediately. If you’ve not read her before, then my advice is the same. Start with this one, or a different memoir, or her novel Delicious!, or one of her cookbooks (I adore her 2015 cookbook My Kitchen Year on audio—yes, I do know how that sounds, and believe me, you do want to listen to a cookbook on audio!). But give yourself the gift of Reichl’s writing. After you read one, be prepared. You’ll be left hungry for more. Galleys for Save Me the Plums were provided by Random House through NetGalley, with many thanks.

This was an entertaining read filled with lively, eccentric characters. Reichl takes us along to experience her life and entry into the publishing world. She writes in a way that makes you feel like you are there with her.

I loved this book, but I’m a fan of Ruth Reichl. She writes in a chatty, casual style, as though she were sitting with a glass of wine, telling you a story. Here she chronicles her anxiety-lade entry into the corporate world of Conde Nast, her eventual triumphs with Gourmet magazine, the frustrations of the corporate world, the people she met and loved, the food she ate, and the eventual demise of the magazine. She’s a food writer with flair—flavors reverberate, carousel around her mouth. Bread makes her think of a sunny day in a forest. She writes of a cloud of Chantilly, a wedge of Brie. As in other books, her mother, a troubled woman who suffered from grandiose desires and frequent depression. As Reichl enters the Four Seasons restaurant, she remembers how her mother loved going there for a martini and wished they could afford to go for dinner. It made me realize I under-appreciated the one time in my life that I dined in that hallowed spot. Reichl’s father is also part of the story—a quiet, gentle man, a book designer with a marvelous understanding of typography and the importance of the interior of a book (or magazine) but also a clear recognition that cover art was not his forté. Her husband and son are actors in the story too, and she displays a bit of Jewish guilt over her mothering of what sounds like a terrific kid. I’m fairly open about food but Reichl eats things I never would and delicacies I’ll never be offered—squid guts and cod sperm, tongue tacos, a tiny onion tart decorated with a single nasturtium, caviar paired with foie gras, lacquered duck skin. Yet the few recipes she includes—jeweled chocolate cake, spicy noodles, a German pancake—are all accessible to the home cook with some skill. That was something she insisted on at the magazines—that the recipes be something people could and would cook. Read this, and then read My Kitchen Year: 136 Recipes that Saved My Life, an account of the year after she so abruptly got kicked out of the corporate world. And throw in her novel—Delicious. You’ll like it all.

I like all of Reichel’s books. After reading several others I wanted to know this part of her story. One thing I like is she does not repeat herself a lot between books: In one she might quickly refer to an event or time but in another, focused on that time period, she gives more details. I have not met her in person but reading her books she comes across as a kind, funny, friendly person. She is very real and does not gloss over things she that did not turn out as expected or would do differently. The books are not depressing (I say this because I don’t need books to be heavy and depressing, we have the news for that, ha ha)

My mother introduced me to Gourmet magazine when I was a young teen. She was an excellent cook and clipped many recipes over the years, which I have kept in a binder as a testament to her great taste. I remember reading those issues of Gourmet to learn more about the places behind the recipes. Ms. Reichl captured so much of what Gourmet meant to this young girl back in the late 60s and early 70s. Her subsequent work years later at the helm of this wonderful periodical helped push it to a better place. (And those Gourmet cookbooks are part of my extensive collection.) Sadly, I no longer have the issues my mother collected, but I do have the recipes she'd cut out from its pages. I thoroughly enjoyed this read.

I really enjoy Ruth Reichl's writing and this book was enjoyable but I think Paris Novel was better.

I enjoyed Ms. Reichls previous books but this one was a bit thin. It was well written and interesting but was a bit “inside baseball” for me about publishing. I was often confused by who was who and what they did. It also came off a bit self-congratulatory and name-droppy. I much preferred the books about her childhood to this one.

I did not want to read this book. My book discussion group picked it, and I thought “a book about the love of food, this will be dull” but fortunately I was wrong The author really did have a story to tell. She writes very well. And she is NOT full of herself as many memoir writers are. It’s an interesting look at a world few of us really know about.

I adore Ruth Reichl’s writing and this was a welcome addition to her memoirs. The recipes are an added bonus. Her insight into Condé Nast is fascinating and I found her chapter on 9/11 particularly moving. More please.

I want to be a more creative, descriptive writer. This book has helped me incorporate experiences, food, and people into my own memoir writing.

Una delicia de libro. Literalmente me lo comí.

Amo todos os livros de Ruth e esse não decepcionou. Ela sabe como ninguém descrever pratos e pessoas. Você se sente à mesa ao lado dela.

Quite enjoyed this book.