The United Way booksale. Or, the Victoria College Booksale.

This week is the United Way Booksale at my university.

I have a problem with booksales. I can't resist them.

One of the main reasons that I have so many unread books is because of booksales. Because so many booksale donations come from estates and whatnot, I find a plethora of the cloth- and leather-bound books that I adore. I find these books as addictive as creme brulee, hot sunshine and good wine. I want to own them all. I love reading little inscriptions in their fronts, and knowing that this book that I now own was found by someone named Helen under her Christmas tree back in the 50s. I feel at peace when I find these things.

I used to go to the Victoria College booksale when I went to U of T. The last day of the sale was "Boxing Day". For $10, you purchased a box. Then you filled it and left. The last time I did it I wound up with a first-edition Steinbeck.

And so, this week is the United Way fundraising booksale. I went during my lunch today, and in addition to a few books for the kids, I found a Paul Theroux, a book by Jane Goodall, and a Farley Mowat book about Dian Fossey. As I am currently reading a book about Leakey's "Three Primates" (the three ladies who studied the great apes - I'll blog it in a few days, I'm almost done), I immediately snatched up the latter two.

And here we reach the crux of this post: I originally hypothesized that I would read from the top left of the first bookcase to the bottom-right of the last bookcase and blog each book. I still wish to do this. I didn't originally consider that I would keep buying books, though of course this will be the case.

And my first reaction was fear - did I start a project that will never end? But then I realized I must stop considering this as a project. This is a pasttime. This is something to enjoy and savour as the page count rises, and as cliche as it sounds, it will be a journey. There won't be a set ending, and now that I've thought consciously about it, this doesn't bother me.

So - I will have a Home Book and a Work Book. My purse isn't big enough nor do I have the desire to truck a book to and from work each day. My Home Books will be left-to-right, top-to-bottom books. My Work Books may or may not be so - reading heavy philosophy or sociological studies at lunchtime doesn't appeal to me.

My current Home Book is one I took out of the library ages ago, but I'm getting there. I'll blog it soon. Once it's done I'll start in the top-left of the first bookcase. Here we go!

Word of the Week: Osetra

Well, Bourdain spells it "osetra". There are a plethora of other spellings online, an indication of a word that has been translated from another language that doesn't use the English alphabet. You should see how many variations there are for English spellings of Arabic words, a phenomenon I experienced with frustration while researching particular archaeological sites, only to find that they have 5 or 6 'different' names.

Osetra is a type of caviar. The second-most-expensive type of caviar there is (beluga has it beat). Unfortunately the species of sturgeon that produces it is nearly extinct in the wild. If you choose to partake, please be sure to sample from the farmed osetra-producing sturgeon.

I'm not sure I have ever tried caviar. As a child it has the gross-out factor - fish eggs? Yuck! But as an adult, it has an allure, and an air of importance and expense. It is also similar to other prestigious seafoods (oysters, fugu), in that it is expensive, and you want to make sure you get the 'right' experience the first time you try it. I've turned many an oyster hater into an oyster lover simply by showing them the good kinds, and how to eat them. I feel that I've never had anyone looking over my shoulder at a nice restaurant, able to tell me what caviar to order and how to enjoy it.

There's also my general lack of like for fish eggs. I love sushi, but I request it masago-free. The various varieties of fish eggs have been sampled and rejected by my taste buds. Would caviar be better? Different?

Completed: A Cook's Tour: In Search of the Perfect Meal

Many years ago, I read a book called Cosmopolitan by Toby Cecchini. It was recommended to me because I was told that anyone who has worked behind a bar (as I did for many years) needed to read it. I have since told many a service-industry person the same thing. Anyone who hasn't worked front-of-house will still enjoy it, but they just might not get it as much.

A few years later, I was introduced to the back-of-house equivalent of Cosmopolitan. It was (is) called Kitchen Confidential, by a chef named Anthony Bourdain. I remember lending it to my Dad one summer - we spent a week or so at a cabin belonging to a family friend on Manitoulin Island. Dad spent hours reading it, bursting into his high-pitched laugh every few minutes.

So, when I came across another autobiographical Bourdain book in a bargain bin, I couldn't help it. It has sat on the shelf, as have hundreds of my books, for several years. I finally picked it up as lighthearted reading material for my lunches at work a few weeks ago. It may not have been the best selection for meal time - he eats some damn disgusting food as he jets around the world. But the man just has a way with words. You can't help but be right there, feel the emotions he's feeling. A high while eating perfect Moroccan food in Fez. Stomach turning due to food poisoning or drinking cobra bile. He's almost convinced me I need to visit Vietnam. I certainly need to visit the south of France.

More than anything, his book convinces me that there is no such thing as the single most perfect meal. It's a sentiment I've always agreed with, but now I can formulate that conclusion more consciously than I could before. A crepe purchased off a street vendor in Paris, or a calzone from a basement restaurant in Hungary, are just as delicious as Il Mulino in Toronto or Coast here in Vancouver. I will always crave a kartoffelpuffer (potato pancake with garlic sauce) and some roasted maroni (chestnuts) on a cold winter's day in Vienna just as much as a perfectly cooked lobster.

Stay tuned for a Word of the Week catch-up post - Bourdain uses enough culinary terms to make your head spin!

Title: A Cook's Tour: In Search of the Perfect Meal
Author: Anthony Bourdain
Pages: 274

Total books blogged: 5
Total pages: 2,148