I'm not sure if she intended for the reader to feel the nuances of her remark, or was truly unaware of the ageism in it. You can change your choices at any time by visiting Cookie preferences, as described in the Cookie notice. was a few paragraphs about the female mc's envy and admiration of the "cozy solitude" of a woman dining alone, fine glass of wine at her side, obviously enjoying herself and her book. The reader will be reminded that even ordinary people are extraordinary if time is taken to ask and listen. The dinners soon turn into a weekly event and a loving friendship that ends up helping both Isabel and Edward lead happier lives.

Vincent began her career in journalism as a correspondent in Rio de Janeiro, from which she covered Latin America and Africa. What follows is Isabel Vincent's memoir of those meals, of her friendship with the multi-talented and faceted Edward and the life changes for both.She began with "My Funny Valentine" and segued into half-remembered lyrics of Broadway show tunes and ballads that topped the charts in the 1940s and 1950s, when they . Edward, in his nineties and the father of Isabel's concerned friend Valerie, is a new widower, deeply bereft from the recent death of his beloved wife. Both are so self absorbed they seem incapable of genuinely caring for someone other than themselves. a moving memoir of a sweet friendship between Isabel Vincent, a journalist in New York who, at the time, was going through a marriage crisis, and Edward, a ninety-something-year-old who had just lost his wife of 69 years when the two were introduced by his daughter. Thinking she is merely helping Edward's daughter who lives far away and has asked her to check in on her nonagenarian dad in New York - Isabel has no idea that the man in the kitchen baking the sublime roast chicken and light as air apricot souffle will end up changing her life.

This is a bit of a disappointment given that "foodoirs" (memoirs about food, especially ones that include recipes) are among my favorite things to read. I cringed a couple of times when Isabel vented about "men", and that she didn't want anything to do with them again. Dinner with Edward is a book about sorrow and joy, love and nourishment, and about how dinner with a friend can, in the words of M.Read all Dinner with Edward is the story of an unusual friendship between two very different people. With its delicious food, warm jazz, and stunning views of Manhattan, Edward’s home was a much-needed refuge for reporter Isabel Vincent. Of course any book that describes food so well and so lovingly gets extra points in my book--I wanted to eat and make so many of the dishes mentioned like soft shell crabs, fried in a light batter and served with hot melted butter, perfectly scrambled eggs, avocado salad with pungent blue cheese dressing, Fennel Remoulade over Lettuce, macarons and fleur de sel caramels, Pan-Fried Potatoes with Gruyere, Apricot Souffle and Apple Galette, to name just a few.

Valerie, Edward's daughter and one of my oldest friends, related the story when I saw her shortly after her mother's death. Isabel is going through a stormy time in her married life, and Edward helps her look at her life, as she tries to decide what she wants and what to do next. New to NYC and with a faltering marriage, Isabel received an unusual request from her friend Valerie: Would she look in on Valerie's father, Edward? At one point (location 1193 of the kindle version) Edward criticizes funerals he attended because family members became too emotional and he felt the deceased weren't being honored properly, so he asked if he could speak at one service and had everyone laughing in a matter of minutes (no ego there).

This might just be my cold, cynical English self showing, but some parts of this book just rang a little false. When Isabel meets Edward, both are at a crossroads: he wants to follow his late wife to the grave, and she is ready to give up on love. Both moving and uplifting, Dinner with Edward raises a glass to the power of simple pleasures and the surprising connections formed in times of hardship.

I never properly bonded with the author who seems mildly whiny and self-absorbed despite the book's point which seems to be the gift of friendship and love and cooking.Simple things in life can seem like nothing to most busy people, but when you take the time, you tend to relish every morsel and enjoy life better, different but better. A wonderful relationship between an man whose wife of sixty two years has died and the author, asked to look in on him by his two daughters. We have cut ourselves off from the wisdom and beauty of those who have gone before and inundated ourselves with our own myopic view of the world, cluttered by social media and steeped in egotistical self-help propaganda. An elderly man continues to be a MAN, perhaps frailer, greyer but still wants to be considered a MAN.