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432 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published January 1, 2008
"It’s because these tales have been written by men, men who have never spent so much as an hour in the kitchen. The real Cinderella curses, smokes, and drinks a bit too much. Her feet hurt. Her back hurts. And she’s resentful. She would like her pumpkin coach to run over the Wicked Stepmother. And Prince Toad too, if possible."Delicious is not a retelling or even near one, except for Verity's ludicrous, overlong disguise and a too-neat ending; that was just an excuse. By discussing fairy tales, Verity and Stuart confess their histories and dreams and through that thin guise reveal themselves.
In retrospect people said it was a Cinderella story.
Notably missing was the personage of the Fairy Godmother. But other than that, the narrative seemed to contain all the elements of the fairy tale.
There was something of a modern prince. He had no royal blood, but he was a powerful man � London’s foremost barrister, Mr. Gladstone’s right hand � a man who would very likely one day occupy 10 Downing Street.
There was a woman who spent much of her life in the kitchen. In the eyes of many, she was a nobody. To others, she was one of the greatest cooks of her generation, her food said to be so divine that old men dined with the gusto of adolescent boys, and so seductive that lovers forsook each other as long as a single crumb remained on the table.
There was a ball; not the usual sort of ball that made it into fairy tales or even ordinary tales, but a ball nevertheless. There was the requisite Evilish Female Relative. And most importantly for connoisseurs of fairy tales, there was footgear left behind in a hurry � nothing so frivolous or fancy as glass slippers, yet carefully kept and cherished, with a flickering flame of hope, for years upon years.
A Cinderella story indeed.
Or was it?
It all began � or resumed, depending on how one looked at it � the day Bertie Somerset died.