Stone fruits have monopolized my mouth and interests lately, thanks to Chip Brantley's "The Perfect Fruit: Good Breeding, Bad Seeds, and the Hunt for the Elusive Pluot." Brantley used to live a half hour away from me, and his essential goodness was so potent that the knowledge of it was passed from town to town.
Citizen 1: Have you heard of Chip?Citizen 2: Brantley?Citizen 1: Yes, the one surrounded by a nimbus of commendable qualities.Citizen 2: Of course. The guy with sparkle eye.
And so on. What I appreciate most about "The Perfect Fruit" is Brantley's ardor for his topic, and the lengths to which he goes to learn about the fruits he loves. He talks to growers, he talks to breeders, he talks to distributers, he goes to trade conferences. Sure, that's what one is supposed to do when writing a book about a fruit. But the hunt mentioned in the subtitle is more than requisite. Brantley is entirely devoted to the pluot -- a type of noble appreciation that says as much about the subject as it does about how a life can be lived: with full investment, in awe, driving lots of rental cars in the rhapsodic pursuit of flavor. Consider reading it.