No writer has written more enthusiastically about food than A. J. Liebling. Between Meals (1962), the great New Yorker writer's last book, is a wholly appealing account of his education sentimentale in French cooking during 1926 and 1927, when American expatriates like Ernest Hemingway and Gertrude Stein made café life the stuff of legend. A native New Yorker who had gone abroad to study, Liebling shunned his coursework and applied himself instead to the fine art of eating—or "feeding," as he called it. The neighborhood restaurants of the Left Bank became his homes away from home, the fragrant table wines his constant companions, the rich French cuisine a test of his formidable appetite. Between Meals is a classic account of the pleasure of good eating, and a matchless evocation of a now-vanished Paris. As James Salter remarks in his introduction, "Though not a novel it has a novel's grip—there is dialogue, character, description, and the unmistakable signature of a real writer: an entire nook thrown away on nearly every page."