If you stop and consider the one book you pick up more than any other, what is it? The bible? The torah? The dictionary? The Yellow Pages? Really, what is it?
I can guarantee that it’s not a novel, no matter how many times you’ve read it. It’s not a poetry collection. I mean, come on. The bible as the mostest bestsellingest book in 3 trillion years certainly hits home for many.
But what would we do without The Joy of Cooking? Eat out of Kraft boxes? Burn our hamburgers? Abuse a roasted chicken? Fuck up rice?
The Joy of Cooking, despite its now perished traditions, is a library of conk-you-over-the-head common sense. If, after reading Joy you still can’t get rice right? Well, dearie, you need to order out.