Sarah Lewis

Very practical, and short enough to help right away (vs. being a book you know you should read).

Some good content, but it could have been more clearly explained and better organized. It also contains quite a few typos, which is not a deal-breaker but does make it harder to read.

For a long time, I've known my critical thinking skills aren't what they could be. I'm easily swayed by mediocre arguments and often jump into commitments without thinking through the alternatives... or the consequences.

I'm aware of these weaknesses but have struggled to mitigate them. At one point, I bought a critical thinking textbook, but (not shockingly) it was academic and not especially engaging, and I got bogged down and missed any practical value it might have offered.

And then I got the opportunity to read a review copy of “Engage the Fox.” The premise (a business fable! with woodland creatures!) seemed a little goofy but simultaneously unintimidating, and after reading it, I'd say that initial impression was upheld but also backed with solid ideas and real-world usefulness.

My favorite thing about this book is that the authors showed the power of their critical thinking process by tackling a genuinely difficult problem. With a lot of business fables (and heck, fiction in general), situations seem contrived, and you think to yourself, “Well, sure, it would be easy to solve problems if all your ducks were in a row like that.”

But throughout the first few chapters, I was right there with Hedgehog in thinking the situation was a no-win scenario. Despite the sometimes-silly animal references, the book methodically (and entertainingly) guides the reader through real-life application of the critical thinking process—starting with a seemingly intractable problem, getting clear on the actual problem, generating and evaluating potential solutions based on the desired outcome, making good decisions, and implementing them as workable solutions.

Even though the process is fairly involved, it's arranged in a logical framework, so it's easy to understand and work through. There are a lot of diagrams, many of which are shown repetitively—this might bother some readers, but I found it much more convenient than constantly flipping back to reference the information presented earlier, and the narrative isn't repetitive, just the diagrams.

This clear presentation, combined with a mnemonic, the solid underlying framework, and ample examples of how it works in the real world—all work together to create a process I'm confident I can follow.

One more recommendation: for more on the decision-making process specifically, you may want to also pick up “Decisive” by Dan Heath and Chip Heath. The two books have a little bit of overlap, but the focus is different enough to give a well-rounded approach, and I appreciated seeing some of the same ideas covered from complementary angles.

Note: I was provided a free copy of this book in exchange for my honest review.

This isn't the kind of cookbook you'd think I'd like—it's full of healthy stuff! But after getting it from the library and trying a bunch of recipes, I'm sold... literally. I'm buying this book to have on hand at all times.

This was a book where I started out optimistic-but-skeptical: there were a surprising number of recipes that sounded good in spite of having ingredients I'd usually shun. Could they all be good?

I started with the Baked Sweet Potato Fries with Garlic-Avocado Aioli, not really expecting much because I'm not a fan of sweet potatoes but my husband is. I ate one fry and thought, “Eh, it's okay. Not awful, considering it's a sweet potato...” I ate another fry and thought, “Actually, it's probably the best sweet potato thing I've had, not that that's saying much.” I ate another fry, and that's when I believe the addiction firmly took hold. (I tried sweet potato fries at a restaurant the other day, just to see if I'd been fully converted to the orange-food lifestyle, and they were just so-so. Apparently it's these sweet potato fries.)

Each time I made a new recipe from this cookbook, I grew more confident that the author really does know what she's doing. Some of the recipes feature strange-sounding combinations; every one of them has been good.

Beyond the beautiful photography and recipes that turn out well, I love how the author has made good nutrition accessible. The cookbook contains superfood ingredient profiles interspersed with the recipes, so there's an educational piece, and the recipes themselves are healthful without being over-the-top or terrifying the veggie-phobic like me.

For the record, so far I've tried:
The aforementioned Baked Sweet Potato Fries with Garlic-Avocado Aioli
Slow-Roasted Tomato Soup
Farro-Stuffed Mini Peppers
Savory Oats
Salsa Verde with Kiwi
Strawberry-Chicken Spinach Wraps
Cheesy Baked Farro & Cauliflower

I'd make all of them again except for the Farro-Stuffed Mini Peppers, and that's just because I find peppers too bitter (other people enjoyed them). I've made the sweet potato fries and the tomato soup several times already.

Now, like several of the other reviewers, I'm gladly racking up library fines—I want to keep it until my copy arrives and I can transfer my bajillion “make this!” markers, as well as keep cooking with it!

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.

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.)

I picked up this book because of its beautiful design, and also because I own a small business and value strategy, but am not familiar with “design thinking” and hoped this would be a good primer. The subtitle, “what they can't teach you at business or design school,” gave me hope that it would be a high-level introduction to a new topic.

Well, it is high-level, perhaps to a fault. My impression is that it's written for executives or managers rather than practitioners, and deals primarily with the “why” (the benefits of “design thinking”) with some emphasis on the “what” (a sometimes-clear exploration of what design thinking actually is, though I was still a bit fuzzy at the end of the book), and very little about the “how.”

My disappointment with the book is probably a case of audience mismatch. I'm a mix of in-the-trenches practitioner and small biz owner, so I'm looking first and foremost for practical applications of interesting ideas. This book celebrates the ideas themselves, and as a result (and due to the formal writing style), I had a hard time staying focused on the content. I would have appreciated more concrete examples (there were some, but they were few and far between).

But speaking of the content: it is beautiful. The design of the book is fantastic, and left me feeling happier about the effort of reading the text. Lovely as the design is, though, I wish I found the writing as delightful.

There is nothing new in this book, but plenty I haven't applied yet!

Fairly disjointed but still a very amusing read.

Cute and yet I was counting down the minutes till I'd finish, almost from the moment I started listening. I know it's written simply because it's supposed to be “by a dog,” but now I feel like there's a(nother) reason we don't read books written by dogs.

I felt like the shallowness was supposed to be secretly deep and I just don't get it.

This book is a bop and I loved it. I read it as an ebook, but spent the whole time imagining Em Grosland narrating it. (I have a love-hate relationship with Audible Exclusives and also with Wil Wheaton as a narrator.)

Bored to tears. (Well, more yelling “I DON'T CARE!” at the audiobook than crying, to be fair.) My kid loves this book, though, and listening to it together was an opportunity (to try, albeit a bit limply) to take an interest. If only it was interesting!

Hilarious and devastating. Her first book was all humor (with some brilliant observations thrown in). This is much darker, but also much truer.

(I still made Daniel read sections that were so uproariously funny that I was uncontrollably laugh-crying.)

This is as good as everyone says. Solidly biblical, and deeply reassuring. I want to give it to all the people.

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.

Incredibly well-written and also probably the most depressing book I've ever read.

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 couldn't STAND Snowfall for a good chunk of the book. Quite a bit of the plot was overly simplistic and utterly unrealistic.

However, this had such a good redemption arc that I forgive everything else. (Also, laugh-out-loud writing moments. Those also make me more magnanimous.)

I went into this with VERY low expectations based on the top reviews, and was pleasantly surprised. Maybe it's because I read the referenced books a long time ago and didn't catch the idiosyncrasies, but I enjoyed it.

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... ;) ).

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 love Mr. Rogers but this book bored me to tears. I wanted to love it but the repetitive, jumping-around approach wasn't for me.

Phenomenal message and great storytelling. The author's personal experiences give her incredible empathy that shines through every chapter.