"Can anything prepare an American woman for life in France and in particular the life of the wife of a Frenchman who is used to eating the French way? My short answer to that one is: no. The French way, I can assure you, is not the American way. If you want to know what the difference is, get a group of French and Americans together and stick them on a desert island… The main preoccupation of the French group will be what they will eat and when. The American group won't think about food other than as an afterthought."

Harriet Welty Rochefort did what most of us only dream about --- she moved to Paris and has spent the last 30 years living in the City of Light. In her first book, FRENCH TOAST, she talked about the pleasures and frustrations of adjusting to life the French way.

Now, in FRENCH FRIED, Harriet details her odyssey from culinary novice to a competent cook turning out two three-course meals every day. She tells us, "In those early days, I couldn't quite fathom that most of the next two decades of my life would be spent on that earthshaking but necessary question: What are we going to eat?" As Harriet details her experiences, she sheds light on what is perhaps the single greatest difference between Americans and the French: the relationship each of our cultures has with food --- differences that are as vast as the ocean that separates the two countries. In a nutshell, the French view food as a pleasure while Americans view it mostly as a necessity. But, as she points out, even though the French view food as a pleasure, "there are rules for the way you make food, but also the way you serve food, and even the way you talk about food." In other words, there is no counting calories, no slapdash meals, no barbecues…and no pumpkin pie.

What makes this book so interesting is not just learning about the cultural differences in regard to food --- the French rarely eat sandwiches, never issue casual dinner invitations, and 80% still return home for lunch every day --- but the lengths Harriet goes to illustrate her observations. She takes cooking classes, calls on experts and even explores a dark, damp cave beneath the city where hundreds of varieties of cheese are stored --- the ideal place for mold to grow to make the cheese its tastiest.

Not being an enthusiastic participant when it comes to trying new foods (this is something I'm working on!), I'm in awe of culinary adventurers like Harriet. If there is one "lesson" to be had from this book it is to keep an open mind when it comes to food and to try something at least once. That said, Chapter 7 --- which is titled "Body Parts or: Is offal awful?" --- is not for the faint of heart. She spares no details about how blood sausage is made, why fresh rabbits are sold with their heads on (during the war cats were substituted for rabbits, so this way you know what you're buying), which parts of a pig's ear to eat, and the various ways to cook a boar's head --- one of which is civet de joue, a red wine stew using the blood.

Much more appetizing are her stories about meeting and discussing chocolate with Robert Linxe, owner of the world-famous Maison du Chocolat; drinking wine with Gerard Margeon, the chief wine steward at six-star chef Alain Ducasse's Paris restaurants, with whom she attends a private tasting at the Ritz; and cooking and dining with the Rochefort family at their country home in the village of Bréchamps.

The lively, first person narrative and breezy, conversational style make for easy reading. Combined with Harriet's sense of humor, family recipes, and historical facts on everything from the baguette to winemaking, you feel as if you're talking to a friend. Her writing is very visual and evokes a sense of place whether she's at the market, Le Cordon Bleu cooking school, or her own kitchen.

There are some practical tips for those who may be planning a trip to France. For example, don't expect to eat a typical American lunch in a restaurant. For lighter fare such as a salad or an omelet, go to a brasserie. But beware --- even in a brasserie you should avoid tables with white tablecloths, which indicate that you want a traditional French lunch. There is also advice on things like tipping, sending back wine, and when to drink coffee (it's served as a separate course after dessert).

For anyone with an interest in French culture, who loves food, or who simply enjoys good storytelling, FRENCH FRIED is worth the trip. It's armchair travel at its best, a book that not only inspires fantasies of visiting a far away place but one that truly encourages you to expand your horizons. And who knows --- when I take my next trip to France I just might try the civet de joue.