We briefly mentioned Frank Bruni’s memoirs yesterday, but “I Was a Baby Bulemic” which he wrote for the New York Times –adapted from his book– is the most honest, encompassing personal retelling of the beginnings of disordered eating.
I have a fairly healthy relationship with food now –I say that as I’m full from my lunch of mixed greens, pâté, homemade tzatziki (y’all I’m NEVER getting through these two gallons of yogurt) , my famous soda bread and one of those super crunchy foam-caged pear apples– but I recognized myself (and my mother) in almost every paragraph.
Enormous thanks to Lex for pointing this out.
So the rest of you go, read this and come back and let’s have a discussion. It’s a little heavy for a Friday, but who said heavy is bad?