I’ve always loved the Strand. When I lived in Massachusetts and would come down to New York for a weekend, I’d spend time with friends and family, go to the Met, go to the Strand, and then, happily, go home. Two days seemed like plenty of time, and it was a relief to get on the bus on Sunday afternoon. And now I am living here. How did THAT happen.
The Strand is huge (“18 miles of books”), and I tend to gravitate toward the same sections: fiction, of course, both on the tables on the main floor and in the stacks at the back; poetry (back and to the left); children’s (upstairs); galleys and ARCs down in the basement. Yesterday, when I went out of my usual zone, looking for an atlas, I stumbled upon two expansive tables of cookbooks.
And I found this:
The World Encyclopedia of Bread and Bread Making
Which, had I bought it (I resisted! but I might have to go back…), would go a long way toward cementing the “Carb Whisperer” nickname.