Sarah Lewis
I'm not a keto adherent, but I like to try recipes from different dietary styles to up my hospitality power. This slim cookbook is reasonably well designed but the recipes are underwhelming.
It's pretty clear just from flipping through them that most of the recipes are slight variants of maybe five or six core recipes. They are generally based on mozzarella cheese, cream cheese, eggs, and almond flour.
In order to give it a fair shake, I made three recipes that seemed representative: a mozzarella-and-egg “pasta” that cooks (briefly!) in water, a mozzarella-cream cheese-and-egg “pasta” that bakes in the oven, and almond flour-based Garlic Knots.
The Garlic Knots were surprisingly decent. They looked... sad. Like little puddles. (My tween son, not knowing they were keto: “Maybe you should have used more flour, Mom...”) But they were tasty enough that I'd consider making them again. (And the tween son ate five of them, which is not exactly a testament to gourmet appeal but tells you they aren't nasty.)
The “pastas,” on the other hand, were simply wrong. They were vaguely pasta-shaped, and sure, you can put a sauce on them and it looks pasta-ish, but the textures were awful. If I had to pick one adjective, I'd go with “squishy.” The boiled pasta soaked up water so even after draining it, it tasted like watery cheese—not a flavor I can say I've ever encountered before and do not want to ever again. The baked one tasted like a sad omelette (because that's pretty much what it was).
In terms of cookbook features, there's a good table of contents, which is helpful since the recipes are not in any discernible order. (There's no index, but since there are only a few dozen recipes, and most of them are similar, I'm not sure it would be all that useful.)
There are photos for many of the recipes, which is generally a good thing, but I'm not convinced they are all photos of the actual recipes. I'd bet significant money that the cover photo is a (very attractive) stock photo—there isn't even a recipe for spaghetti, because there's no way these weird pasta recipes would produce something firm enough to make it through an extruder.
The recipes are also inconsistent in terms of ingredient units. Sometimes the (almost inevitable) mozzarella is listed in cups, sometimes in ounces. Cream cheese vacillates between ounces and tablespoons. This gives a “collected from the internet” vibe (though there's no attribution) and increases the odds of mistakes when switching between recipes. I'd prefer ingredients be given with both volume and weight measurements, but even settling on one or the other would be better than the mishmash.
At this point, I'm not even sure what to do with this book. If I feel like making the garlic knots again, I'll probably go with a highly rated recipe like this one (which looks similar but a little more intentional). Given that two of the three recipes I tried were so unappealing, I'm not sure I can even donate this book in good conscience.
The writing is a bit uneven, but the story is compelling enough to make the book worthwhile.
Fair warning,: the first third of the book is absolutely excruciating. There is horrific child abuse, tragic misfortune, and rape used for the purpose of maintaining a power imbalance. (The rape scene is not graphic and not even directly mentioned, but it's clear what is happening and nauseating despite the vagueness.)
It's hard to separate “the story” from “the message.” This is definitely a book with an agenda (an important one). Many reviewers felt like it got too preachy at the end, but (as the mom of a middle-grader) sometimes the target audience needs connections made explicitly.
The author made good use of the theme of “counting the things that matter,” and that's one of the ideas that makes this book so good: in a world full of overwhelming, uncountable tragedies, telling the story of ONE tragedy makes it possible to see it. Stories are so much more powerful than facts.
As for the story itself, it was compelling and believable. The characters were conflicted and sometimes contradictory in a way that felt true. Even in a world dominated by abusers, there is nuance; humanity still exists even in dark places, and it brings up good questions about what leads a person to exploit others.
Like most reviewers, this solidifies my commitment to only purchase fair-trade cocoa products. I'm on the fence, though, about when I'll recommend it to my son.
I loved Sanae's writing style, journey, and thoughtful reflection. I also love how she takes simple shapes and turns them into elegant projects, no pattern required.
Not everyone likes this approach. I imagine it appeals more to people who like to wing it, “throw things together” when they cook, etc. I am one of those people. I hate prepping for projects, and cutting out fabric while trying to keep the pattern aligned is my least favorite part of sewing. (And let's not even talk about patterns that have to be printed and assembled!)
Obviously there are times when you do absolutely need a pattern. However, this book is more geared towards sewing as therapy, mindfulness, grounded in simplicity, accepting wobbles, letting go of perfectionism... the “go with the flow” flexibility of the projects perfectly suits the narrative of the book, and I'm looking forward to making some of them. (Just as soon as I finish the three other craft projects I'm in the middle of.
Pretty pictures but a bit too heavy on the “me, me, me.”
Here are the steps I learned that will ensure I design a beautiful interior:
1. Have a ginormous house. 6,000 square feet should be sufficient, as demonstrated by “Bu Round Two.” If you can only fit two couches, a coffee table, and a big chair in your living room (as demonstrated in the “small space” that's 3x larger than my living room), you can still make it “comfy.”
2. Layer things. Layer layer layer. How do you know what to layer? Just put things on top of each other and if it looks right, that's what you should layer.
3. Put vintage rugs everywhere, including bathrooms and mudrooms. But never have only the front feet of your bedside tables on the vintage rug. That's just tacky. Or basic. Or something.
4. When in doubt, some piece of furniture from Shoppe Amber Interiors will pull it all together.
It's still worth browsing through the pictures á la Pinterest. But for a gal that gets “asked a million times a day” about her style, her answers seem pretty much to be, “I try things and pick the ones that look best.” Fair enough, but doesn't merit the level of navel-gazing that follows.
(Also: I'm very sad there wasn't a single bookshelf with a reasonable number of books on it. It's clear that “books” are a decorative touch only, to be put in small impractical stacks to “make a statement” for a “#shelfie”. I didn't dock stars for this because maybe her clients genuinely don't read, but it still makes me sad.)
The audiobook is delightful! I loved every random little bit of it.
I wasn't very familiar with Matthew McConaughey before reading this—had seen a couple of movies he was in, but also had him confused with Owen Wilson to the point I don't think I knew they were different people.
As it turns out, I like Matthew McConaughey quite a bit. I definitely don't agree with all of his choices or conclusions, but I got a kick out of his off-beat reflections, great storytelling, emphasis on values, and straight-shooter vibe.
As another reviewer said, the audiobook is an experience. He obviously had a great time narrating and his enthusiasm is infections. (I imagine some folks would find it as off-putting as I do endearing, though.)
His little snickers at his own jokes cracked me up, too.
I waffled between four and five stars, because this book is not as engagingly written as, say, something by Malcolm Gladwell. However, I think it achieves its aims admirably, without much fluff, and the world will be a better place if people read it and take it seriously.
The book had all the rigorous focus on data I'd expect from a nerd (I love nerds!) and the big-picture strategic focus that I'd expect from someone who's spent years dealing with overwhelming, systemic problems.
It also had a level of data-driven pragmatism and global perspective that's a refreshing shift from the usual virtue-signaling and egotism that tends to accompany discussions about “the environment.”
Some reviewers seem annoyed that Gates doesn't have a long list of “personal application” suggestions; I'm grateful, because the truth is that the scale of the problem is not one that can be fixed by lifehacks, and I'd rather be honest about that so we can put our oomph where it actually CAN make a difference.
Similarly, I appreciate the reminder that the ultimate goal is not deprivation but empowerment. We WANT the whole world to have access to the goodness that is a ready supply of convenient energy! The challenge is figuring out how to give everyone that opportunity while also doing it in a way that will serve our long-term interests (you know, health, safety, survival, those kind of things).
Another point on which I differ from some other reviewers is that I did not have an education that covered all of the science well. Some of this is age (I'm getting old, y'all), some of this was my particular school, and some of this was me (I didn't seek out science). I found the overview helpful. If you already understand the science well, you might prefer to skim the early chapters.
One bit that I think is underappreciated: his argument about why we need to focus on “zero by 2050” and be wary of “decreased by 2030.” Intuitively, I wouldn't have spotted the danger, but most of the book is essentially laying the groundwork for this one crucial point.
Gates is generally very optimistic (within reason; I do remember him being one of the few people in the early days of COVID-19 who predicted 18+ months of dramatic changes when so many others were saying “two weeks”). I'm a little more cynical, but I find this book encouraging. There are reasonable paths forward. I hope many people will seriously engage with the ideas and help us get on the right track.
I didn't connect solidly with the characters and while the feminism is appreciated, the execution felt heavy-handed.
However! The writing! And the subtle historical and literary twists!
Not every reader will like the writing (another reviewer referred to it as “purple” and I understand why) but for me, it landed perfectly with the rural Southern character voices.
The way every fairy tale (now witch-tales) is just a tiny bit altered was delightful. The way the disparate tales connect is intriguing.
Bottom line, the faults did make it slow-going at times, but the virtues made it worth it.
I agree with most of the other reviews, both good and bad!
Yes, the author seems like an eccentric billionaire who is painting the picture in a biased way AND yes, the concept of crystalizing, recording, and applying principles is a great idea. Yes, it's heavy on concept and light on application AND yes, some of his tools are brilliant. Yes, many of the principles are obvious or idealistic or potentially much more alienating than he suggests AND yes, some of them have already been useful to me.
Yes, it has many flaws AND yes, I now want to get a hard copy to dog-ear and mark up.
Gorgeous with good basic information that I will use.
Editing was a little sloppy—the number of times the author says something “is everything” is distracting, but puzzling phrases like “[use] a proprietary pest-killing treatment, whether this is store-bought or homemade” and “it can grow up to 3 feet (10m) tall” left me scratching my head.
I have many thoughts about this book but recognizing that I'm unlikely to take the time to get them all coherently stated here, I'm going to opt for a few bullet points instead.
● People seem to like arguing about whether this is a book about the dangers of technology or the dangers of censorship. I think it's somewhat both, sure, but more about the dangers of being content to engage only with things that make us feel good.
● I say it's only sort of about censorship because, as Faber argues, “Remember, the firemen are rarely necessary. The public itself stopped reading of its own accord. You firemen provide a circus now and then at which buildings are set off and crowds gather for the pretty blaze, but it's a small sideshow indeed, and hardly necessary to keep things in line. So few want to be rebels anymore. [...] People are having fun.”
● One other bit I thought was interesting: before reading this book, I assumed it would be all about the book as savior. But another Faber quote: “It's not the books you need, it's some of the things that once were in books. The same things could be in the ‘parlor families' today. The same infinite detail and awareness could be projected through the radios and televisors, but are not.” As SparkNotes summarizes, “...the stories and ideas told in books could just as easily be told through different forms of media. But, those types of stories are not what people are interested in. [...] It is not just books that are absent from society, but knowledge and curiosity about the world in general.”
● Some reviewers reject the book because “the future” (now the present) hasn't unfolded the way Bradbury described it. At least one other reviewer points out that sci-fi is never about an accurate prediction of the future, but instead a means of wrestling with timeless challenges in humanity. I agree, and for that reason consider the book incredibly timely. A whole lot of the issues we're facing currently (like social media bubbles and a seeming inability to have civil discourse about anything meaningful) come back to the preference we humans have for “feeling good” and avoiding discomfort.
The book suffers somewhat from repetitive, ho-hum writing, but the concepts in it are so valuable that I still want to recommend it to everyone.I picked it up because Dr. Dweck's research is constantly cited in all kinds of other books. It's clear there's good reason for this. I appreciated the examples and particularly the practical application section at the end.It also dovetails nicely (again, because this research is so foundational to behavioral economics in general) with the book I'm currently reading, [b:The Power of Moments: Why Certain Experiences Have Extraordinary Impact 34466952 The Power of Moments Why Certain Experiences Have Extraordinary Impact Chip Heath https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1506854677l/34466952.SY75.jpg 55587025]. They give an example of a dad routinely (and positively) asking his kids, “So, what have you failed at lately?” I expect I'll have a lot of these “that's growth-mindset talk!” ah-ha moments for a few weeks at least (at which point I'll be obsessed with some new concept... ;) ).
Eh. I had heard a lot of great things about this book, so I may have come into it with too-high expectations.
There were some parts that I loved, most specifically the descriptions of healthy family relationships, including those that were still in progress. The writing and narration were also good.
However, my one-sentence synopsis would be: moody teenager spends 98% of the book being moody, and then ✨the magic of love✨ magically fixes his entire life.
Not my thing. I can't really figure out the critical acclaim, and have to wonder if it would be as widely praised if the main relationship was heterosexual.
To be clear, my gripe is not with the gender(s) of the main characters or their relationship in the abstract, just the magical-fixing. I suspect if we were talking about a girl getting a boyfriend who was perfect and suddenly made everything perfect and fixed all her insecurities, it wouldn't have made it out of the slush-pile, good writing notwithstanding.
This book came highly recommended, and had its moments. It wasn't a great fit for me, though.
I'm a Christian, and while much of the advice is logical and can be applied regardless of worldview, the heavy Stoic influence feels... anemic, I guess.
Beyond worldview, I also found it too abstract. I appreciated many of the philosophies in theory, but the application was often nebulous.
It was a slog to finish, and I would have spent the time more profitably reading a blog post on the topic and then moving on to the next book in my to-read pile.
