It’s not that I didn’t like this book. I did. Nigel has a fantastic memory and a wonderous way of connecting food to childhood events. But he sure likes to talk about–for lack of a better term–ding dongs. That was sorta weird. But I get it now.
This was a quick and easy read. It’s a lot of short vingettes that you can (for the most part) easily connect with because of the universal nature of growing up and alternatively loving and hating your parents and siblings and schoolmates. And ding dongs, apparently.
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I agree. This was quite different from what I was expecting. And without a celebrity author and a cover that makes you expect soemthing else, this would have sold about a dozen copies.
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