The Gopnik family

Some years ago I read a rather good book called 'The Philosophical Baby' by one Alison Gopnik. Sadly, the only thing I remember about it now, and that is not very reliable, is the importance of small children being told stories.

Then the other week. I came across a 30p chuck out from Surrey Libraries called 'The Table Comes First' by one Adam Gopnik. I thought perhaps husband, but closer inspection of the acknowledgements to the first suggest that he is probably a brother. Not a common name, not at least in this part of Epsom.

A nicely produced paperback which appeared to be an interesting compilation of bits and bobs about the food scene since the invention of restaurants a little before the French Revolution. An intellectual, well educated and well read foodie, puffed by no less a luminary than Nigella Lawson, although, less promisingly, including at least one polite mention of Damien Hirst. But now, having dipped in a few times, I have decided that I cannot get that worked up about words about food. Cooking the stuff and consuming the stuff is fine, but my capacity to bang on about it in this - in the end - rather silly and precious way - is really quite limited. Better suited to the drinks parties of the chattering classes, parties which never much suited me. Drink the same; I used to like a good beer - say Greene King IPA or Arkell's Bitter - but I was never that interested in beer buffery - not even of Chief Inspector Morse's fairly modest variety.

Not that I am really knocking it. Getting into a twist about baking twerbots is fine. No one gets hurt and it passes the time - but it is not for me. I think my time would better spent on rereading the baby book. This one now on its way to the Oxfam skip at Sainsbury's.

PS: checking the apostrophe in Arkell's Bitter in google, I find that some brewery in Ontario gets to the top of the heap, rather than the one in Swindon. Whatever have those people in the googleplex been knocking back?