Hate to break my long reviewing silence with this, but:

The Goodreads description of this refers to the author's voice as "salty". Is that the polite term for being an asshole? And I don't mean the bit that he expects to offend "certain of your left-leaning, spit-dribbling, eco-freak readers" ... well, of course <i>that's</i> offensive - because he intended it to be - but not so much what he said after. Just about every word I read of the little bit I read was repulsive. Because he intended it to be. The New York Times and other publications actually licked this jerk's boots? Wow. The world is weird.

I always make it a point to keep my reviews about the author's work and not the author, but that's a little harder when a book is a memoir. Suffice to say that I wouldn't read more of this book even if paid, and the only reason I'll try to remember the author's name in future is so that I can avoid it.

Jim Harrison's posthumously published anthology is what happens when editors give anc excellent and unbridled writer his head. This is a glorious book which also comes with regrets at the thought that there may be no more.

“A Really Big Lunch” is a collection of food — and wine — articles he wrote for Playboy. The New Yorker,. Smoke Signals, Brick and The Kermit Lynch Wine Merchant newsletter. It's about his likes - chicken cooked with 33 garlic bulbs, trout over woodsmoke, hunting, fishing, cigarettes and wine. The title itself comes from a New Yorker article about a feast of 37 courses that Mr. Harrison and friends ate in Burgundy and he complained about the fact that this lunch featured “only” 19 wines. He also writes, “If I announce that I and eleven other diners shared a thirty-seven-course lunch that likely cost as much as a new Volvo station wagon, those of a critical nature will let their minds run in tiny, aghast circles of condemnation. My response to them is that none of us twelve disciples of gourmandise wanted a new Volvo. We wanted only lunch.”

There are recipes (although these are not the main focus), the point being that we readers can benefit from the muscular life advice of this sage, irreverent and dry writer. There has to be more. This CANNOT be the end of it.

A great book to read about the thirty seven course french lunch......

I have read only a small amount of Jim Harrison's work and do not worship him as do some of my friends. I am not going to review this book online because I don't want to seem too curmudgeonly.

If you love food and/or wine and/or women and/or sex, and do not mind a bit of cocaine, this is the book for you. Jim Harrison is full of opinions on all of the above, and funny as hell. A superior aperitif does not exist.

In addition to being a poet and novel writer, Jim Harrison was a voracious eater and drinker with a passion for food and wine. For many years, he wrote articles and columns about his culinary adventures including the title piece about a 37-course lunch he enjoyed in France (he is quick to point out there were only 19 wines). Now gathered together, these pieces, often filled with humor and passion, are a celebration of a literary life, of poetry, food, and wine.

A Really Big Lunch is different from any book I've read. Even though Harrison writes well and I found myself turning the pages rather than taking a break, the menu was most unusual and even disgusting at times. I'm not into eating snake, but I still enjoyed reading about his food adventures.

Harrison's belief is simple. Quality of life is more important that quantity and food is the ultimate pleasure.

Life's short, so better start eating now!

Oh, and don't forget the wine!

4****