Ruth Reichl: Garlic and Sapphires: The secret life of a restaurant critic in disguise

From her perch as the restaurant critic of the New York Times, Ruth Reichl once wrote a review of a famous restaurant, Le Cirque.

Since it was published that review has become, at least in the little hothouse world of foodies, almost as legendary as the restaurant.

This is because Reichl wrote the review in two parts: the first from the perspective of "Molly," a school teacher from Michigan, whose husband had made a killing in malls. Molly Hollis was the first disguise — with wig and the proper clothes appropriate to one of those ladies who lunch — that Reichl donned to fool the restaurants of the city who had her picture stuck up in kitchens.

The second part of the review was written from the perspective of Reichl who, on taking the job, became, as her husband reminded her, the most powerful restaurant critic in the world.

When Molly Hollis walked into Le Cirque she was greeted, if that is the right word, with a chilly, "Do you have a reservation?" from the maitre d. "This is said so challengingly I instantly feel as if I am an intruder who has wandered into the wrong restaurant."

When Ruth Reichl walked in she was told: "The King of Spain is waiting in the bar, but your table is ready."

Reichl went on to create a number of dining out personas with the help of her wig-maker and the delightful Claudia, a retired acting coach who had been a friend of Reichl's mad mother. There was Brenda, a statuesque red-headed beatnik with a penchant for vintage clothes. Everyone loved Brenda: they talked to her from their table, they smiled, she smiled and chats back. There was sour, petty Emily who was pleased with nothing and sneered at everything. And there was Reichl's mother, Miriam. Reichl found becoming her mother "stunningly unnerving." You would not want to go out to eat with Miriam. In life she was a serial sender-backer. And this is exactly what Reichl found herself doing: "Having spent most of my life being embarrassed by mum, I was shocked to discover how easily I slipped into her shoes."

This is faintly upsetting. But far more upsetting — if you have not read Reichl's previous two memoirs — to the author than to the reader. And, should you be interested enough in the formation of the most powerful restaurant critic in the world you really should read Tender at the Bone and Comfort Me With Apples before embarking on this interesting, if idiosyncratic, visit to the theatres that are New York's restaurants.

Reichl did not, in the end, enjoy being the Most Powerful etc. She finds herself, one night, at dinner with a ghastly self-styled "food warrior" and ends up in a competition with him over who has eaten at the most famous French restaurants. Her husband excuses himself early. He later tells Reichl he hated the company, and by the company he meant Reichl.

She eventually left the New York Times to be editor of Gourmet magazine.

This book, a lively engaging read, is a revenge of sorts on the foodie bores and snobs and that includes an editor or two. At least it might have been had it been written by Emily.

Reichl does not do bitchy very well. Perhaps she is most like Brenda and that is quite possibly why she gave up being a restaurant critic.

* Michele Hewitson is a Weekend Herald writer

* Allen & Unwin, $39.99