Nonfiction Reviews

The title of the fifth book from Lebovitz, celebrated pastry chef and Chez Panisse alum, is a bit of a misnomer: this feisty memoir-with-recipes is just as tart as it is sweet. Writing with the same cheeky tone that has made his blog one of the most popular food sites on the Internet, Lebovitz presents an eclectic collection of vignettes illustrating his experiences living as an expatriate in Paris. After reading accounts of perpetually out-of-service public toilets and hospitals that require patients to BYOB (bring your own bandages), one begins to question what, exactly, Lebovitz finds so intoxicating about the City of Lights. It certainly isn't something in the water, but it just might be in le chocolat chaud. With this book, for the first time Lebovitz expands beyond his standard repertoire of desserts and includes a smattering of savory recipes. These range from such classic French dishes as a warm goat cheese salad to nostalgic American favorites like oven-roasted pork ribs with ketchup marinade. This is not to say Lebovitz's legions of sweet-toothed fans will be disappointed—many of the 50 recipes are made with plenty of butter and sugar; a flawless rendition of dulce de leche brownies is sure to become the home baker's equivalent of that très chic little black dress, returned to again and again. (May)

When Rao describes his experiences as a homeless drug addict on the streets of Chicago as a battle for his soul between the Hindu gods Hanuman and Kali, it's easy to dismiss his assertions as evidence of a mental breakdown—even he entertains that possibility. But it's this divine intervention, the culmination of a family mythology handed down over generations, that gives Rao the strength to tackle his recovery: “I'll be straight because that's what Hanuman wants,” he tells a therapist. “He'll kick my ass if I fuck up again.” The multilayered narrative skillfully shifts between Rao's downward spiral that kicked into high gear during his freshman year of college, his first months at a no-nonsense halfway house and stories from his Indian ancestors. Even readers who have become jaded to the generic conventions of the addiction memoir—criminal acts to support the growing habit, pushing away one's closest friends and so on—will find themselves engrossed in Rao's spiritual journey, from the descent into a very personal hell to the slow climb back. (Rao returned to college and eventually graduated from the Iowa Writers' Workshop.) Wherever his writing goes from here, this powerful debut is a signal to pay attention. (May)

In his vivid and charming memoir, novelist and screenwriter George (Hip Hop America) recounts incidents from an eventful life that has ranged from a tough upbringing by his single mother in Brooklyn in the 1960s to a career of assorted writing gigs in music journalism, television and film. Early in the book, George captures the anxieties of an intelligent child in a dangerous neighborhood, finding solace in his mother's soul records, screenings of Planet of the Apes and Hemingway and Fitzgerald novels. Later, George provides a welcome and appropriately nerve-wracking portrait of a young New York writer, interning at the Amsterdam News and writing concert reviews for Billboard. Slowly, the mature writer and tastemaker emerges, witnessing and shepherding hip-hop's sometimes rocky transition into the mainstream pop-music world, as exemplified by a bizarre concert bill featuring the Commodores, Bob Marley and hip-hop pioneer Kurtis Blow. George's life has been blessed by the presences of an eclectic array of black entertainers, including a young Russell Simmons and a struggling Chris Rock, and he sketches these characters with affection, though at times the book feels more like a collection of anecdotes than a cohesive narrative. Nonetheless, George provides tempting glimpses of the vibrant New York of the recent past. (Apr.)

Tamm's parents met in the Manhattan apartment of the guru Sri Chinmoy and quickly married each other at his insistence; when they violated his commandment not to have sex with each other, however, he regrouped by declaring that their daughter, Tamm, would become his greatest disciple. The cult leader was a skilled manipulator, and Tamm's descriptions of her internalization of his predation, constantly blaming herself for not feeling worshipful enough, are wrenching. The outward pressures were equally difficult: she was forbidden a college education and sent abroad when she was caught violating the cultwide ban on dating—and the first time she was banished from the group, she begged for readmittance. Tamm, now in her late 30s and a professor at Ocean County College in New Jersey, is unsparing in her account of the psychological damage Sri Chinmoy inflicted on her and her family, from her parent's loveless marriage to her half-brother's gleeful acceptance of the role of the guru's enforcer. She reveals the difficulties in shaking off the guru's influence—under which she had spent literally her entire life before her final expulsion—and though readers might wish to hear more about how she eventually regained her identity, the harrowing details of her story create a sense of emotional devastation that will linger. (Apr.)

National Book Award–winner Nuland (How We Die) turns over his latest collection to the stories of more than a dozen specialists describing their most memorable patients. What is extraordinary about Nuland's compilation is not the medical heroics but the instances of fallibility and vulnerability that prove the doctor is not just human but caring. A bronchoscopist tells of a famed thoracic surgeon who botches a procedure to recover a small cap a child has swallowed “Well, chappies,” he chirped, “here's my chance to demonstrate the procedure again. Rather like a double feature at the cinema, yes?” When that, too, fails, the frustrated surgeon must do major surgery to rectify what should have been a 10-minute fix. Even the scoundrel who gets a nurse fired rather than be caught in his own impropriety shows a recognizable humanity in his hilarious retelling of barging into a procedure unwashed and unwanted, and being chased from the premises by a mad-as-hell surgeon. Nuland adds his own commentary after many of the stories, but it's just window dressing. Here's medicine as it's actually practiced—by humans awed by the privilege of both their practice and patients. (Apr.)

This perceptive history paints Mexico's 1810–1821 struggle for independence as a dark, dejected affair, tainted by massacres, famine and crippling contradictions. Auburn University historian Henderson (A Glorious Defeat: Mexico and Its War with the United States) explores the difficulties facing successive Mexican insurrections against Spain's heavy-handed, parasitic rule, including ill-equipped and untrained armies and a fractious, brutal, often incompetent leadership. But the main problem, he contends, was the social chasm between the white Creole elite who led the rebellion and the harshly exploited Indian and mixed-race masses who manned their armies. Revolutionaries envisioned a new liberal order, Henderson argues, but feared to stir up the social resentments of their troops, whose attachment to king and church trumped nationalist sentiment. The result was an “incoherent” revolution torn between progressive and reactionary impulses that bequeathed a tendency toward unstable or authoritarian government. Henderson's concise, lucid narrative skillfully guides readers through these confused political currents while sketching vivid portraits of leaders like the rebel priests Hidalgo and Morelos. Henderson illuminates the fault lines in the Mexican nation through this trenchant study of its founding. (Apr.)

Any reader who has avoided science for fear of being overwhelmed will find a friendly guide in Potter, former publisher of Fourth Estate who has a masters in the history and philosophy of science. He addresses the issue head-on by turning the problem into one of scale, taking readers outward in a literary “Powers of 10” journey. From meters through kilometers to light-years, Potter takes readers beyond Earth's atmosphere, across the solar system and into deep space, where galaxies gather into vast superclusters. After this headlong rush, Potter offers a quick history of physics and a look at the quarks and gluons at the heart of matter. A quantum mechanics chaser segues into an intimate examination of the Big Bang and stellar formation to the coalescence of our own solar system and, finally, the evolution of life on the speck we call Earth. Giving equal weight to each topic, Potter's steady progression illuminates the ways in which they are all connected. This clear and smoothly written look at the mind-boggling history of everything is both informative and provocative. 10 b&w illus. (Mar.)

The origins of language, says anthropologist Falk (Braindance), lie deep in the past, long before Homo sapiens appeared on earth, when some baby hominids lost the common primate ability to cling to mothers with both hands and feet. Mother would have to put baby down to be able to forage for food. This behavior, suggests Falk, led to the creation of calls so that a mother and her baby could know that the other was nearby. Falk claims these calls led not only to language but also to the creation of music, through the inflections of the mother-baby calls, and to pictorial art, as babies drew in the dirt. Despite Falk's evidence, readers may find it a stretch that language, music and art all developed from “putting the baby down” (with dad nowhere in the picture). The author seems weak on basic principles of linguistics, for which she has to quote “an anthropologist friend,” and music, where her understanding of interval patterns is at a very basic level. Nonetheless, readers interested in language acquisition may find Falk's hypothesis thought provoking. (Mar.)

A play of light infuses many of Setboun's photographs of “beautiful” Venice: here a dappled yellow-green canal, there a fireworks display of moonlight off the water. In his introduction, Setboun (New York Vertigo) describes Venice's photographer-friendly qualities: “In winter, for example, at a certain moment the sun will penetrate to the depths of her alleys and canals, illuminating them for an instant before abandoning them back to the shadows.” Text is otherwise brief, with readers expected to be familiar with Venice's history and geography. Perhaps half the 120 color photographs (most taking up a full page or more) are picture postcards, but a few reveal a more complicated Venice— cranes over historic rooftops, a reflection off of the vaporetto (water taxi) windows, the tile rooftops of the old town in the foreground set against an enormous cruise ship in the background. Originally published in French, the book serves as a coffee-table souvenir for recent visitors or temptation for those who have yet to fall in love with this fantastical place. The oversize, slipcased book's, horizontal orientation complements long photographic vistas across the ever-changing light and water of Venice. (Mar.)

How did a wealthy, self-absorbed adulteress who despised her eldest son and aborted three pregnancies by a man she didn't love, transform into a devoted mother and pioneer of women's liberty? British author Moore (The Knife Man) examines this remarkable conversion in Mary Eleanor Bowes (1749–1800), England's richest heiress, whose impulsive marriage to a violent Irish fortune seeker revolutionized divorce in Georgian England. A published poet-playwright and accomplished botanist, Mary expected to live an indulgent life. Yet she was lured into marriage to army captain Andrew Robinson Stoney, who proved to be a rapist, liar, kidnapper and philanderer who half-starved and beat Mary into submission. Stoney's own best friend called him “inhuman and savage, without a countervailing quality.” Moore offers a well-informed if dispiriting glimpse into 18th-century marriage and the patriarchal legal and church systems as experienced by Mary—still her husband's property and financially supported by her devoted servants—as she fought to regain her fortune, her children and, especially, her status as a person. (Mar.)

Independent historians Danisi and Jackson offer a meticulously researched, if occasionally obsessive, account of Meriwether Lewis's life, focused primarily on the tragically short years after the famous Lewis and Clark expedition of 1804–1806. The authors propose the novel but credible theory that Lewis's mysterious 1809 death, generally considered a suicide, was a result of unwitting self-poisoning with mercury treatments for his recurring, debilitating bouts of malaria. In the process, the authors also effectively debunk conspiracy theorists' suggestions that Lewis was murdered. After the expedition, Lewis served as governor of the Louisiana territory, was embroiled in the convoluted and harsh politics of the territory and worked sedulously on Indian affairs. Although Danisi and Jackson's choice to focus on Lewis's post-1806 life is understandable given the numerous expedition histories, Lewis's last years will be less compelling to many readers than his iconic journey across the American continent. In the end, regardless of how well researched and insightful, this work is likely to be appreciated almost exclusively by professional historians and Lewis and Clark enthusiasts. (Mar.)

The Abu Ghraib prison abuses, widely condemned as violations of American ideals, were actually as American as apple pie, according to this scattershot study. Cusac, a journalist and communications professor , surveys the American enthusiasm for confinement, pain and humiliation as instruments of legal and social control, from colonial-era stocks and ducking pools to today's supermax prisons and amped-up stun guns (she includes a litany of cases of kids and old ladies tasered by cops). Abandoning a mid–20th-century consensus favoring humane rehabilitation for miscreants, Americans since the 1970s have embraced a view of crime as the product of individual evil, she contends, with harsh retribution the appropriate response. For this view she blames religion—specifically the Christian Right, citing everything from spanking manuals to the Christian Reconstructionist movement, which recommends the death penalty for theft and homosexuality. Cusac's disorganized, repetitive argument treats developments in policing and penology as atavistic cultural phenomena largely unrelated to concrete social concerns; she spends far more time analyzing movies like The Exorcist and Carrie than discussing postwar crime rates. The result is a sometimes insightful but often unbalanced and distorted take on our supposed gluttony for punishment. (Mar. 18)

Early in this portrait of Iraqi general Kamel Sachet, Steavenson (Stories I Stole) warns, “In Iraq, there was never one story, there were always many stories, layers of episodes, each one a wound.” She examines the life of General Sachet from his humble beginnings to his rise in the Iraqi army and his growing closeness with Saddam Hussein. Sachet was commander of special forces and the general in charge of the army in Kuwait during the first Gulf War. His life was one of service to his country, and his moral compass set by a military code. Yet his obedience, Steavenson reveals, came at a price: as his repulsion for the demagoguery of the Baath party and Saddam's sadism grew, the terror tactics of the regime kept him and his peers paralyzed. Steavenson is a talented writer and her reconstruction of Sachet's story is staggering in its revelation of a collective psychological trauma that continues to grip a nation. (Mar.)

University of Michigan history professor and blogger Cole (Sacred Space and Holy War) takes aim at the Bush administration's “Islamophobic discourse,” highlighting that some of the very people who promulgated the phobia (Dick Cheney, Donald Rumsfeld) once sang a different tune. He calls instead for evenhanded and pragmatic policy changes, not least a reckoning with the heterogeneity of the Muslim world. Yet for all his expertise, Cole fails to source some of his harshest accusations; moreover, for a scholar championing greater subtlety of thought, he too often discards nuance himself. To the extent that Cole argues against painting the Middle East with overly broad strokes, he brings a constructive addition to public discourse; his failure to be consistent is a lost opportunity. (Mar.)

The premise of this suave and unabashedly free market overview of the New India—the rising economic powerhouse—is that ideas lead economic and social policy rather than the other way around. It's not a consistently held position, however, as Nilekani, cochairman of the board of directors of Infosys Technologies (a leader in India's burgeoning IT sector), refers in the same breath to a longstanding (postindependence) antipathy to teaching English reversed by its economic advantage in a global market. Theoretical consistency aside, the author makes a bid for a centrist position in the globalization debate. His focus rests on India's particular domestic and international advantages in such areas as population, English proficiency and information technology. But there's little separating his take on India's recent past (hobbled by Nehru-era socialism) or best present course (embracing “globalization,” seen as a harmonious and harmonizing amalgam of democracy, equal opportunity and resource access) from such neoliberal champions as Thomas Friedman (who supplies the foreword). Readers inclined to a free market perspective will find Nilekani eminently reasonable, if less than startling; those seeing it as antithetical to an equitable and sustainable future will meet a familiar frustration on nearly every page. (Mar.)

Former Reagan strategist Roberts and journalist Elizabeth Roberts draw on unprecedented access to the Dalai Lama's circle and U.S. government insiders to recount Tibet's resistance movement and its unlikely allies. Featuring recently declassified information, the book reveals the extent to which the CIA was involved in the Dalai Lama's flight into exile in northern India and in arming and training the Tibetan military resistance movement. During the cold war, the U.S. government regarded Tibet as another front from which to fend off the threat of global communism and spent millions on military and propaganda operations the authors term the “Himalayan Bay of Pigs.” After the Sino-Soviet split, the U.S. shifted its attention to the war in Vietnam and the cause of Tibet's human rights was embraced by the U.S. counterculture and, later, academics and Hollywood celebrities. The authors argue that Tibet's only hope lies in global economic divestment and boycotts against the Chinese government, actions that were effective in urging the end of apartheid in South Africa. Despite its somewhat simplistic solutions, this book offers a clear overview of the key issues and conveys why Tibet's situation is more urgent that ever. (Mar.)

Despite its title, this book focuses more on the philosophy and personalities that shaped the Bush administration's foreign policy than on the consequences of those policies for future administrations. Labeling Bush's foreign policy “revolutionary” in its neoconservative aspirations, Peleg (Human Rights in the West Bank and Gaza) sees the administration as breaking decisively from the philosophical orientation of previous post–cold war presidents. The author argues that the ascendancy of an “inexperienced and unknowledgeable” Bush, with the influential neoconservative Cheney at his side, led to this ideological turn, encapsulated in the strategic vision of the Bush Doctrine. Approaching Bush's foreign policy through the frame of the buildup to and aftermath of the Iraq War, Peleg draws on secondary sources to condemn Bush personally and explicitly for many of the failures of his administration, arguing the president lacked basic knowledge of and interest in foreign affairs, and labeling him arrogant and inflexible. Though the book has a straightforward structure, it sometimes feels like a repetitive retread before Peleg offers constructive strategic recommendations in its closing pages. (Mar.)

If you still consider women a marketing “niche segment,” this book by brand expert Skoloda is a must-read. The author reveals that women not only “control $3.3 trillion in consumer spending,” but also make more than 80% of household purchase decisions and increasingly control this country's wealth. She asserts that women are far beyond multitasking—they actually “multi-mind”: simultaneously juggle home, family, work, social and financial obligations. In order to reach them, advertisers need to change their tactics, as her research illustrates that these busy women are immune to conventional marketing methods (they routinely Tivo through commercials and are inconvenienced rather than drawn in by new product displays). She presents studies that show women increasingly get shopping advice from friends and family, make purchasing decisions before entering stores and are drawn by “cause connectivity,” a company's involvement in issues that are meaningful to them. While occasionally repetitive and geared more toward professional marketers than general readers, this book offers a treasure trove of timely insights on how to better understand and engage women consumers. (Mar.)

At the turn of the millennium, McDonald's faced a host of serious problems: a decline in food quality, branding issues, indifferent employees, shoddy service and a poor bottom line. The global brand consulting company Arcature LLC was brought in to develop a global brand direction, and Light (global chief marketing officer of McDonald's during those years)—with others—resuscitated the brand. Though the authors offer a few rushed suggestions for executives trying to recover their failing brands, or to avert the crisis in the first place, the book is essentially a hosanna to Light's corporate messianic abilities. The titular six rules—refocus the organization, restore brand relevance, reinvent the brand experience, reinforce a results culture, rebuild brand trust and realize global alignment—are addressed, but sketchily, and without much direction for how they can be applied to companies that are not lucky enough to be the world's most successful fast-food chain. Though the book offers small nuggets of useful advice, it suffers from its self-congratulatory tone, anecdotal filler and dry writing. (Mar.)

In the early 1950s, Mark Satter opened his law practice in the Chicago suburb of Lawndale, but his life's work really began in 1957, the day a black couple, Albert and Sallie Bolton, walked through his doors needing a stay on an eviction from a home they had just purchased. Satter uncovered a citywide scheme, in which landlords sold African-Americans overpriced homes, keeping the titles until black homeowners paid them off, while charging excessive interest rates to insure they never could. Called “contract selling,” the practice cost thousands of migrating blacks their livelihoods. Mark Satter died of a heart condition eight years after the Boltons crossed his threshold, but nearly 50 years later, his daughter, Beryl, a history professor at Rutgers, picked up where he left off. Setting out to prove that the decline of black neighborhoods into slums had nothing to do with the absence of African-American resources and everything to do with subjugation and greed, Satter draws on her father's records to piece together a thoughtful and very personal account of the exploitation that kept blacks segregated and impoverished. (Mar.)

Attali (Millennium), cofounder and first president of the European Bank for Reconstruction and Development, offers his predictions for the 21st century in this clunky futurist fantasy. Positing that “history flows in a single, stubborn, and very particular direction” toward “man's progressive liberation,” the author projects that course with surprising results. He predicts that the mercantile order that prevails today will exhaust itself within a generation or so and be replaced by a unified and stateless global market—a “super-empire” controlled by an innovative class of selfish “hypernomads.” This “super-empire” will lead to extreme imbalances of wealth and poverty that will cause its collapse by 2050—perhaps accompanied by a round of planetary warfare. Humanity will emerge chastened from the wreckage and erect a utopia of “hyperdemocracy” led by a class of “transhumans” —a new breed of altruistic “citizens of the world.” Attali's utopia relies on illusory historical laws, and his thesis proves more entertaining than plausible. (Mar.)

In the introduction to his latest effort, Barra (The Last Coach: A Life of Paul “Bear” Bryant) says that one of his goals was to create the first comprehensive work written about Yogi Berra, the greatest ballplayer never to have had a serious biography. The result is not only comprehensive but also incredibly engaging, as Barra narrates the life of one of the most eccentric ballplayers of the 20th century. Starting with his modest Italian upbringing in St. Louis, Mo., Berra quickly took a liking to what his father called a bum's game. And after a short career in the navy, he parlayed his talents into one of the most decorated athletic careers in history, leading the New York Yankees to 10 World Series championships and winning three MVPs. Each of Berra's baseball highlights is meticulously described, as are his stints as a manager for both the Yankees and crosstown Mets, his relationships with men like Casey Stengel, Mickey Mantle and George Steinbrenner, and his ability to create some of the most famous catchphrases of our time, Yogiisms, as they're called. Barra's love of the catcher with the similar name is evident throughout this deserving biography of Yogi. (Mar.)

Veteran Chicago Tribune entertainment reporter Caro expands on his front-page story about a 2005 flap over foie gras with a wide-ranging investigation into the ethical debate surrounding the human consumption of fattened duck liver. Drawing on conflicts in Chicago, Philadelphia and California over whether force-feeding birds should be legislated as torture or standard agricultural practice, Caro presents various positions from duck farmers, chefs and animal rights activists. His chatty arguments between industry players deliver without becoming unnecessarily complicated or resorting to the oversimplification of surveys and superficial media reports. Caro offers descriptions of a vegan activist headquarters, a video depicting a rat burrowing into an injured duck, and traditional farm operations in France. While he pursues his source's agendas with due diligence, he appears reluctant to side completely with gourmands despite describing “presumably happy ducks,” mouthwatering foie gras meals and even eating a raw duck liver. While he tends to focus on the colorful, entertaining aspects of the food's history and science, Caro's selection of pointed quotes from duck liver lovers and foie gras foes presents an in-depth take on this ongoing food fight. (Mar.)

The Blinkens alternate chapters to recount their years as the U.S. ambassadorial couple to Hungary during Bill Clinton's first term as president. Vera Blinken escaped Hungary as a child with her mother after WWII as the iron curtain started its descent on central Europe. Donald Blinken, a former investment banker, was appointed at the dawn of Hungary's nascent democracy and entry into the world economy, and negotiated its entry into NATO. Together they breathed new life into U.S.-Hungary relations, negotiated the opening of American military bases that contributed to the end of the Bosnian conflict and started health initiatives in the local community. Theirs is a candid behind-the-scenes look at the glamour and challenges of diplomatic life: along with consorting with the pope and Madonna came inevitable security concerns, death-defying trips in formerly Soviet helicopters and the struggle to reshape attitudes toward what was perceived as American cultural imperialism. The energetic narration moves seamlessly from historical to contemporary political themes to the more personal and particular highlight of the book—accompanying Vera Blinken as she rediscovers what remains of the Budapest of her childhood. (Feb.)

Jones enhances his developing reputation as a writer on the Third Reich with this compelling, fast-paced account of the July 20 conspiracy to assassinate Adolf Hitler (its code name publicized by the release of Tom Cruise's latest movie). While up-to-date on the latest scholarship, the book succeeds admirably in presenting for a general audience not only the doomed course of Operation Valkyrie but its background: the failures of other assassination plots, the difficulties of organizing resistance in a totalitarian state, the desperate courage of the men and women who risked their lives. From the charismatic Count Claus von Stauffenberg down, the conspirators belonged to the German establishment. Their plan was for a coup to supplant Nazism with a civil-military government under the rule of law and end a war that was destroying Germany physically and morally. Jones traces the plot's unfolding and unraveling, first day by day, then hour by hour. Hitler's survival condemned the conspirators to an obscene vengeance. Their heroic sacrifice, says Jones, “snatched the soul of their tortured country from the pit—and saved it.” Photos, map. (Feb.)

If bacon does not immediately come to mind as an essential ingredient of Cajun cooking, then clearly you have been missing Link, the chef-owner of two New Orleans restaurants, Herbsaint and Cochon. He not only begins his premiere cookbook with instructions on making four pounds of homemade bacon, he includes such tempting items as a fried oyster and bacon sandwich, tomato and bacon pie, and catfish fried in bacon fat. Even in his vegetarian twice-baked potatoes, he cannot help mentioning, “Normally I like crisp bits of bacon in stuffed potatoes.” And where bacon leads, the rest of the pig is sure to follow. A classic boudin recipe is rich in pork liver and shoulder; deer sausage combines venison with pork butt; and a hearty/scary breakfast dish, oreilles de cochon (pig ears), is boudin-stuffed beignets. There is also plenty of crawfish, be it in a crawfish pie, a traditional boil or in a boulette (deep fried balls of crawfish meat and stuffing). A bourbon cherry lemonade or a plate of fresh peach buckle would cleanse the palate nicely, Eighty color photos enhance Link's efforts, as do his brief meditations on crawfish farming, family gatherings and the joys of making a perfect roux. (Apr.)

As the legend goes, Eskimos have 500 words for snow. Certainly, Southern chefs that are worth their salt should know about that many synonyms for sauce. Thus it is with Karmel (Taming the Flame), executive chef of Hill Country, that great bastion for brisket in New York City. She steps up to the plate with 400 recipes covering marinades, brines, glazes, salsas, rubs, vinaigrettes, relishes, pestos and the occasional ketchup. Her choice of ingredients runs the pop cultural gamut from cherry Coke in a sweet cherry cola barbecue sauce to bourbon in her Jack Daniel's steak sauce to coffee in a cocoa-espresso-black pepper rub. There's a coating for anything one would care to grill, like an apple cider brine for pork or soy-ginger wasabi butter for seafood. Karmel's commentaries, which preface each recipe, reflect the broad scope of her culinary life. But she perhaps shares a little too much information as to the origins of “I Think My Pig Is Sexy” marinade, and her many travel exploits come off a bit like a brag, raving over a mushroom quesadilla she had on the Mexican Riviera and the sashimi with hibiscus salt she discovered in Tokyo. Her most brilliant move is her quietest, a minimalist chart entitled, “Make Your Own Barbecue Rub” which lets you mix and match from lists of salts, sugars, peppers and spices. (Apr.)

Brown, a physician, psychiatrist, clinical researcher and the founder of the National Institute for Play, has made a career of studying the effects of play on people and animals. His conclusion is that play is no less important than oxygen, and that it's a powerful force in nature that helps determine the likelihood of the very survival of the human race. Having studied thousands of people's play histories, from murderers to Nobel Prize winners, Brown reveals that play is an essential way humans learn to socialize. Beginning with the very first play interactions between mother and child, and working up to adult relationships between couples and co-workers, Brown describes how play helps brain development and promotes fairness, justice and empathy. Work and play are mutually supportive, he argues, noting that play increases efficiency and productivity (playful folks, he claims, are also healthier). Sprinkled with anecdotes demonstrating the play habits of subjects as diverse as polar bears and corporate CEOs, Brown and co-writer Vaughan (The Promise of Sleep) present a compelling case for promoting play at every age. The authors include helpful tips for bringing play back into grownup lives, including being active, spending time with others who are playful and rethinking the misguided notion that adult play is silly or undignified. (Mar.)

Harvard psychologist Weissbourd (The Vulnerable Child) delivers a direct, digestible wakeup call about the need for better moral instruction for children. Enlisting a battery of researchers to conduct interviews with students, teachers and parents mostly in the Boston area and the South, Weissbourd asserts quite forcefully and repetitively that by abdicating moral authority to popular culture and children's peers, by shielding children from their destructive behavior, by letting fathers “off the hook” and by insisting on children's happiness rather than their goodness, adults are failing their own children. Weissbourd looks at the role of shame in engendering children's destructive acts, and how it can result from parents' excessive expectations and fears of their children's emotions. Promoting an elusive notion of happiness sacrifices important lessons in empathy, appreciation and caring, while parents' self-interest continually “erodes the basis for community.” The author advocates checking parents' overweening drive for achievement in our children, refraining from wanting to be their best friend and cultivating a healthy idealism. He cites a woeful lack of self-awareness by parents and the need for building alliances with teachers and other parents. His chapter on the “morally mature sports parent” is a sober reminder of why we want our children to play sports. Moral strengths and failures among different cultures are particularly explored in this strongly worded work that barely grazes the tip of the iceberg. (Mar.)

Woolf, a columnist for Working Mother magazine, addresses the universal work/home harmony issue: how can a successful executive use her leadership skills to make her household happy, more efficient and stress-free? Bringing leadership skills to parenting might seem like a real survival strategy to an overwhelmed exec/mom, and the author draws similarities between managing a business and managing a family—including the old saws of setting goals, cultivating self-awareness, fostering a healthy culture, managing crises, navigating difficult relationships and balancing priorities. In applying the concept to a variety of family scenarios ranging from recalcitrant husbands through defiant toddlers and oppositional teens to never-ending household chores, she covers everything she believes a smart career-oriented woman needs to know to unleash her parenting potential. Using the keystones of “transformational leadership” (influenced by The Leadership Challenge by Jim Kouzes), it might be possible for overworked executives to “feel less like overburdened servants and more like competent, effective family leaders.” All that is well and good, and reading this might help some women feel better about themselves, but in reality, a family is not a business, spouses are not executives, and children are not employees. While this may be a “mom development” book, its premise is slim and its contents stretched and repetitive. The more realistic question might be: how can parenting skills make better executives? (Feb.)

May 23, 2009, will be the 75th anniversary of the bloody deaths of the Depression's dynamic crime duo.

Journalist Guinn (Our Land Before We Die), in this intensely readable account, deromanticizes two of America's most notorious outlaws (they were “never... particularly competent crooks”) without undermining the mystique of the Depression-era gunslingers. Clyde Barrow, a scrawny kid in poverty-stricken West Dallasin the late 1920s, stole chickens before moving on to cars, following in the footsteps of his older brother, Buck. In 1930, he met 19-year-old Bonnie Parker, and during the next four years Clyde, Bonnie and the ever-revolving members of the Barrow Gang robbed banks and armories all over the South, murdering at least seven people. Bonnie, who fancied herself a poet, wrote, “Some day they'll go down together,” and they did, in a Louisiana ambush led by famed ex–Texas Ranger Frank Hamer. With the brisk pacing of a novel, Guinn's richly detailed history will leave readers breathless until the final hail of bullets. 16 pages of b&w photos. (Mar.)

The lives and the legends of doomed outlaw lovers Clyde Barrow and Bonnie Parker unfortunately take a back seat to Schneider's narrative style in this heavily researched but poorly executed account. Despite his claim that no dialogue has been invented, Schneider's approach—addressing Clyde as “you” (“Feels like you and Bonnie are hot as hell everywhere”)—is jarring and irritating. Opening in 1934 when Bonnie and Clyde helped several prisoners break out from Eastham Prison Farm in Texas, , Schneider (Brutal Journey) then rewinds to Clyde's hardscrabble youth in the slums outside Dallas, where he met Bonnie in 1930. The increasingly violent exploits of the Barrow Gang are evocative, especially Clyde's first—and arguably only—premeditated murder in 1931. Yet true to his style, even in their final moments in the ambushed, bullet-ridden car, Schneider forces on readers his own version of Clyde's last thoughts—“you remember Bonnie drinking hot chocolate”—and ruins what should have been a moment of literal and literary silence. B&w photos. (May)

Overachieving woman or underexperienced dater, there's a Valentine's Day advice book for you.

Author and life coach Arylo's own life story informs every page of this insightful book. After a 15-year relationship, her fiancé called it quits two hours before the engagement party, causing Arylo, a successful marketing executive, months of devastation and self-doubt. This three-part guide about co-dependent relationships, settling for the wrong man and not knowing what you want begins with “Me,” showing how crucial it is to get to know yourself first because “our relationships are mirrors of ourselves.” Arylo delves a little deeper than most by being honest about how many women are in denial about relationships being fueled by the fear of being alone and feeling incomplete. In part two (“He”), the author guides the reader through a series of visualizations to identify four core qualities the reader wants in her future mate, and part three (“We”) advises on maintaining authenticity and intimacy in a relationship. This exercise in intention-setting and manifestation will help any woman who wants a lasting partnership that reflects her own true self. (Mar.)

Whelan has good news for high-achieving women in their 30s and 40s anxious about why “Mr. Right” has not appeared. Drawing on the latest demographic findings and her own interviews with 100 men and women nationwide, sociologist and journalist Whelan (Why Smart Men Marry Smart Women) argues persuasively that educated ambitious women, whom Whelan dubs SWANS (Strong Women Achievers, No Spouse), marry in the same numbers as other women though they marry significantly later. The snippets of interviews personalize the data, but while Whelan always sounds positive, many of the high-earning women she talks to are struggling to maintain balance in their lives and often feel lonely. Whelan advocates that women remain in the workplace after giving birth, debunking media reports of highly educated women flocking home. (Jan.)

The latest from Lipper and Vincent (How to Eat Like a Hot Chick) is more fizzle than sizzle. Some may find inspiration in the assertion that all women are “hot chicks” waiting to discover themselves, and there are a few fun, smart activities like “Build a Boyfriend Workshop” and the cheeky “Where Are His Balls?” But any gems are mired in crass hyperbole that often insults readers' intelligence. Some of the content has merit (like most books of this type, the authors preach the virtue of self-esteem) but more often than not the authors present too-cute, sometimes offensive definitions (“Butt Class: You may not believe this, but we used to have a lame, flat, white-girl ass until we got that flat ass to the gym”) and spout off like sailors on shore leave—dropping F-bombs with abandon. Lipper and Vincent confuse hip with hype. (Jan.)

In their first-rate book, Novak, star of TV's Confessions of a Matchmaker, and novelist Zigman (Animal Husbandry) prove to be a match made in heaven. Novak cuts the bull when it comes to dating advice: you have to know yourself before you can find love. The book exhorts the reader to “Get Over It” when it comes to “thinking all men are jerks” or being paralyzed by past relationship trauma. Like a dating GPS, the book identifies dating obstacles and puts readers on the right road to romantic fulfillment. No shrinking violet, Novak is part drill sergeant (especially when it comes to self-exploration worksheets), part “love therapist” (though she refers on deep issues to the appropriate professionals). Writing in a frank—and funny—manner, Novak uses tough love in offering a compelling and rewarding read for the lovelorn. (Jan.)