Sometimes, I have a hard time reading about food. You might assume that as a food writer who also loves cooking, this would be the easiest thing. But by virtue of my job, reading books about food in my free time can often feel like work instead. There are glimmers, of course. Some books about the food world are so engaging that I can’t help but enjoy myself (Lizzy Dent’s The Summer Job and Jessa Maxwell’s The Golden Spoon are two of my favorites on the fluffier side).
There are so many food books coming out this spring: fizzy works of fiction, heavier memoirs, essential cultural histories, and even an intriguing graphic novel or two. We’ll certainly explore these in greater detail on Eater in the coming months. But for now, I’ll give you a little taste of what I’m actually looking forward to reading (for fun!) this spring.
Cellar Rat: My Life in the Restaurant Industry by Hannah Selinger (March 25, 2025, Little Brown)
I love a dishy restaurant retrospective. I assume that if you’re reading this, you do too (or have the life experience to mirror one). Interrogating the lure of access that comes with restaurant work alongside the “invisible” nature of the job, Hannah Selinger’s memoir fits into the familiar territory of books like Kitchen Confidential. Described as a chronicle of Selinger’s “rise and fall” in the industry, Cellar Rat follows Selinger as she works with chefs like David Chang, Bobby Flay, and Johnny Iuzzini, before eventually becoming disenchanted with the industry as a whole. It should be an engaging read for anyone who likes a behind the scenes restaurant story.
Dirty Kitchen: A Memoir of Food and Family by Jill Damatac (May 6, Atria/One Signal)
When Jill Damatac published her essay “Dirty Kitchen” in 2020, I was immediately taken with the lyrical way she weaved together her personal history as an undocumented Filipino immigrant in the United States with descriptive stories of Filipino food and its mythology. “It reminds you, as its citrus-sour, chillied heat endures on your tongue, of how to swallow undesirable truths,” she wrote, of the sizzling pork dish known as sisig. Damatac’s forthcoming Dirty Kitchen memoir seems as compelling as the essay that inspired it, and given the current conversation around immigration in the U.S., it sounds like essential reading right now.
Foreign Fruit: A Personal History of the Orange by Katie Goh (May 6, Tin House)
We project a lot onto oranges: To peel an orange for someone else is to display everyday, unconditional love (at least according to TikTok); to peel an orange in one long piece is to manifest good luck. Katie Goh’s Foreign Fruit will add even more to the orange lore. It’s described as a “far-reaching odyssey of citrus,” bringing together both the global history of oranges and Goh’s own Chinese, Malaysian, and Irish upbringing in an attempt to “unpeel the layers of personhood.” I’d mark this one down if you liked Crying in H-Mart or The Book of Difficult Fruit.
Aftertaste by Daria Lavelle (May 20, Simon & Schuster)
I’m rarely a fantasy reader and don’t find myself often drawn to ghost stories, but Aftertaste sounds so promising that I’m eager to step out of my comfort zone. Here’s the sell: Konstantin Duhovny is haunted. He can taste the favorite foods of the deceased and connect them with their loved ones, but only for the duration of a meal. Per the description, he then “sets out to learn all he can by entering a particularly fiery ring of Hell: the New York culinary scene.” Color me intrigued. With its magical realism element, I imagine Aftertaste will appeal to fans of the Before the Coffee Gets Cold series and Like Water for Chocolate.
Lush by Rochelle Dowden-Lord (May 27, Bloomsbury)
Rochelle Dowden-Lord’s debut bills itself as being for fans of Sweetbitter and The Bear — say less! As if that wasn’t enough, it also invokes one of my favorite tropes: a motley crew who’s been brought together by a mysterious invitation, in this case to a vineyard estate in the South of France to drink a very rare, old wine. At the same time, each of these characters — all of whom work in wine — is embroiled in their own “private crisis.” Sounds juicy, just like the wine I’ll be pairing it with. Lush sounds like a good one to kick off the season of beachside reading.
