Bal Harbour

BAL HARBOUR 119 time—capturing the people, events, and places in much the same way she's done in her other best-selling books. But I didn't need a copy for backstage access. I had already had the great privilege of living it—as the special projects editor at Gourmet. When you tell people you worked at Gourmet, they light up. They have a million questions about what it was like, but most of all they want to know about Ruth. It's hard not to sound like a blathering idiot answering. "She was amazing, inspiring. She was a great boss. She changed the way I think about food. She changed the way I think, period." But it's all incredibly true. I wish I could explain the magic of what it felt like to have her lean across her massive desk with her wide-open eyes, chin on her hand, genuinely wanting to hear your idea. vÌiÌiÌiÃÌÀÞvÜi>``iÀÜÌiÀvÀÌiwÀÃÌÌi° I had made a promise to myself not to make any comments about the food for fear I'd mess up. About three courses in at Del Posto, she noticed me chugging my water and not paying enough attention to my Barolo, and I inadvertently blurted out, "The food's just so salty." And she agreed. Huge sigh of relief, and I decided it was best to tell her what I really thought from then on. The book is packed with so many incredible memories, and you can tell she relishes in the retelling of them. What I didn't expect was that this book about the past spoke so much to my present. As the newly minted editor-in-chief of Galerie magazine, I related to Ruth in an entirely new way. She was becoming a mentor to me all over again. 7>̽ÃÌiÌ>iÌi`iVÃÃ>wi`ÃL>Ãi`«iÀÃ> opinion? How do you lead a team of quirky, creative individuals? And then, how do you balance your time between actually editing the magazine and all the other party-hosting and brand-promoting duties of the role? The book was hitting on all the topics I'd been grappling with—all told through anecdotes about these incredible people with whom I once worked side-by-side. A }ÀÕ«v«i«iÌ>ÌÀiyiVÌi`i v,Õ̽ÃwÀiÃÌLiivÃ]ÜVÃi recently told me again: "The best thing you can do as a boss is to hire people who are smarter than you in ÌiÀwi`ð» 7iÀi>Vi`Ìiw>V>«ÌiÀ of the book, my eyes welled with Ìi>Àð -i >}wViÌÞ V>«ÌÕÀi` the sadness and confusion of those last few days. I remembered how I said goodbye to her in the elevator at Condé Nast's then-headquarters in Times Square, while awkwardly `} iÀ w> }vÌÃ Ì ip> pair of unworn Christian Louboutin L>iÌ y>Ìà >` > Ã>] «iÀvÕi sample-sized vile of the world's most expensive balsamic vinegar. I had never felt so empty. Now, I couldn't imagine what she must have felt like writing this, so I called her. "It made me miss the whole experience so much," she said in her warm voice. "It was so much fun. Writing it was remembering how lucky I was." ƂÃÃ>ÃwÃi`Ìi>ÃÌ«>}i of the book, I longed for the people inside. I missed all the real characters Ruth had so beautifully captured. I texted some, called others. And then did what instantly brought me back to those famed Gourmet test kitchens. I pulled out the January 2009 issue (yes, I saved every one I worked on) and made a grocery list for the best spaghetti and meatballs recipe I've ever tasted. I carefully followed every step of the three-hour process from the actual pages— ÌÞ*iÀ>Ì>LiÌ°-]Ìi>À>vÃ>ÕÌji}Ãwi`Þ >«>ÀÌiÌ>`ÞL>}ÃiiÌÃÜiÀiwi`ÜÌÇä«iÀviVÌÞÀÕ`i` beauties. Then, I started dancing around the kitchen as I stirred them into the pot, just the way that would make Ruth ever so proud. "The best thing you can do as a boss is to hire people who are smarter than you in their fields." —Ruth Reichl An iconic issue of Gourmet magazine from 2007; Save Me the Plums is out this spring. BOTH IMAGES COURTESY RANDOM HOUSE

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