This is the second of Tod Davies's books I've read and while I enjoyed it quite a bit it's not my favorite food memoir. I love the ideas of cooking with what you have and enjoying food with family and friends. The recipes are more ideas for thing to make rather than firm directions which I enjoyed. ( )

In January 2010 I read the first, original *Jam Today,* subtitled "A Diary of Cooking with What You've Got." And I remember thinking that the book was more in the spirit of Laurie Colwin than in the spirit of M.F.K. Fisher (as John Thorne blurbed on the back cover of that book); something about the writing is more spontaneous and less, well, literary in its obvious aspirations. Davies weaves recipes into the text, but the recipes are written as if she'd be telling you how to make something. What I like about this approach, which Davies reprises in *Jam Today Too: The Revolution Will Not Be Catered,* is that it reflects the way people truly eat: Often, you just throw together whatever happens to be on hand (because it's in season, it was on special at the store, etc.). So there is a sense of spontaneity to cooking, even if you've plotted out what you're going to do with the random ingredients the night or so before. Acknowledging the realities of how we cook and eat--or how we *should* cook and eat--is what makes these two volumes special.

I was thrilled to receive an Early Reviewers' copy of *Jam Today Too,* in part because I'd since written to the author: indeed, both of her books invite readers to e-mail her. (I was doubly thrilled, then, to have received an inscribed copy with an accompanying handwritten note: such a lovely flourish!) In this one, at the end of "The Best Food I Ever Ate" (pp. 178-82), Davies suggests sending memories of favorite meals--as a muse for surviving dull days. She provides her e-mail address for doing so. My list would include my Japanese host mother's stir-fried octopus with butter and garlic (summer 1991), amazing grilled langoustines and braised baby bok choy at the night market in Singapore (April 1998), ethereal lavender ice cream in Wales (July 2000) . . . and now I don't know why all of these memories are associated with being abroad. (I could definitely add more, from Iceland, Spain, Macau, South Korea, Malaysia. . . .) I will certainly have to work on appreciating the everyday more intentionally.

From *Jam Today Too* I'm particularly eager to try oatmeal with a shot of whiskey (pp. 170-71). I love the "On My Bookshelf" section at the end, since it's always nice to know what people who think and write about food are reading. But I can’t recall the story behind the Beloved Vegetarian Husband, who’s not *really* a vegetarian. (If the situation is explained in the original *Jam Today,* I’ve forgotten it.) I'll end with some particularly evocative passages from the book. "You have a chance, every time you cook, to figure out who you are and what your world is like" (p. 214). And "For a truly engaging life, we have to set out our own limitations and make a kind of poem of them. This is a struggle if you are very rich: you have no force pushing you to sculpt those lovely limitations into your own life. You have to work a little harder. Of course, being poor is much worse: you have those limitations forced on you, like a bad limerick, and little choice in the matter" (p. 240).

I have mixed feelings about this book. On the one hand, the author’s voice is quite likable. She reads like a sweet Nana who loves spending time with good food and good people. She is a big proponent of cooking with what you have on hand, which I agree with. Problem is, the what-she-has-on-hand seems to be things I would never have in my kitchen like octopus, squid, lamb and seaweed. So, even though she peppers all her recipes with fun anecdotal stories, I felt myself fighting to not skim at times. I felt bad about it too.. because I really did feel like the author was a dear friend, and that I would be hurting her feelings by not reading the whole thing.

There were some pages that I bookmarked for future reference and a few recipes were included that I would probably try, but I don’t see this food memoir/cookbook being something that I pick up again and again.

Would I recommend this to my BFF? No. If she had time to read a food memoir/cookbook, I’d recommend Bread and Wine.
Would I recommend this to my teen daughter? No. I don’t think it would hold her interest. ( )

Jam Today Too is a perfect antidote to the current cooking industry machine of shows and cookbooks, with their perfect pantries and rictus smiles. Author Tod Davies shares her ideas, recipes, and experiences, warts and all, in a delightful and inspiring memoir.

These are recipes for secure cooks. The book will not hold your hand when you can't find the jar of fennel. You will not be bullied into driving all the way across town in search of duck. Instead, the author encourages readers to improvise, do things your own way, add your own touches. She writes: "this is how I did it," then leaves enticing trails of homemade breadcrumbs for readers to follow.

Chapters are peppered with glasses of wine, visits with friends, and comestible inventorying. For Davies cooking is emotional and social sustenance, but it's not something to fret about -- see what you have, cook it up with love, and share it.

Jam Today Too is a worthy successor to MFK Fisher's beloved books, and is a must for seasoned home cooks. ( )

I never learned much about cooking. It was something you did but not necessarily enjoyed. I've never had the confidence to just do it. Reading this book held just what it seems I've missed and needed. It reads as if you just follow the author about and watch what she does with what she has and you learn from that. You learn how to throw things together and create something delicious. You learn to like cooking and appreciate the role it plays in our lives everyday. Most of all you learn to make good with what you have and how to share with those you love. I have learned a great deal about families and meals and enjoying your own food creations. ( )