Confessions of a Book Reviewer

PR puffery from an incoming book this week:

 Late at night, when your girlfriend isn’t looking, do you secretly download lurid, porco-graphic Internet images of boiled pig’s head or trotters (that’s the feet, for the uninitiated)? If so, you will be aroused by John Barlow’s Everything But the Squeal, a transplanted Englishman’s quest to consume every part of the pig (except “no genitals”) in his adopted homeland of Galicia . .

 Uh, no, can’t say that I do. But give me pretty slices of  barbecued tofu, seductively splayed out across the plate, and. . .

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