I've been delving into a little detective fiction lately. Among others, I read my book club's August choice: Janet Evanovich's hilarious One for the Money.
One thing that struck me in a visceral way was all the coffee the characters drank. Perhaps I was fixated on coffee because I've recently given up caffeine, and a decent decaf is a bear to find. Reading as characters gleefully slurp away at their java? Distracting.
But the truth is, I am sensitive to food in novels. I find myself craving whatever it is they happen to be eating. This is probably why I cook a nice seven veg curry stew to feed to my students whenever I teach Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart.
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