The New York Magazine: "It’s loads of fun, light and dazzling as a peacock feather. BUY IT."

Gerald Samper, the “niche creature par excellence” who narrates this novel, has forsaken the rabble of England for a house high on a Tuscan hill, where he ghostwrites the zippy memoirs of sports heroes, suffers hilarious mishaps, and whips up exotic recipes included in the book. (Badger Wellington, anyone?) The casual bookstore browser might mistake this sequel to Hamilton-Paterson’s Cooking With Fernet Branca for a Peter Mayle-style romp or a diet primer explaining why Tuscans don’t have to exercise.  In fact, it’s a jet-black parody of all of the above. Samper’s targets—especially a one-armed female champion yachter turned sea-cult guru—are a touch too grotesque to serve as recognizable satire. But it’s loads of fun, light and dazzling as a peacock feather. BUY IT.