NEW YORK — When Ruth Reichl’s not eating, she’s writing about eating. And when she’s not doing that, she’s writing about writing about eating, as in her new book, “Garlic and Sapphires: The Secret Life of a Critic in Disguise.” It’s the story of how Reichl, now editor in chief of Gourmet (a unit of Advance Publications Inc., parent of WWD), adopted a series of disguises to protect her tenuous anonymity as The New York Times’ food critic, a job she held from 1993 to 1999. Having now told virtually her entire life’s story in this and two previous memoirs — the well-received “Tender at the Bone” and “Comfort Me with Apples” — Reichl returned to the present this week to talk about how, no longer forced to don a wig when she eats out, she’s enjoying her meals more than ever. Just don’t invite her to Megu.
WWD: How many more memoirs do you have in you?
Ruth Reichl: No, no, no. This is it. Even though it’s chronologically a continuation of the other two, I think it’s very different in mood and feel.
WWD: It doesn’t seem like you liked The Times very much as an institution.
R.R.: That’s not true. They were wonderful to me. [But] it’s not a warm and fuzzy place. It was a big change from the sunny L.A. Times to the grim Gray Lady. It’s a very competitive place. Part of what makes it a good paper is the fact that, at least when I was there, there was this real sense of being terrorized into making sure you were right and not making mistakes.
WWD: Have you ever been hypnotized?
R.R.: No. Why? Are you trying to hypnotize me now?
WWD: The way you described getting into character when you were undercover, finding yourself speaking in someone else’s voice and saying things that surprised you — that’s typical of people who are susceptible to hypnosis.
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R.R.: I probably am. When I was a little kid, I would take books with me everywhere, and people would always joke about how you could dance around the table or walk across my head and I wouldn’t notice because I was so absorbed. I’m also one of those people who never walks out of a movie because within three minutes I’m completely in it.
WWD: Do you ever miss being a working food critic?
R.R.: No, I don’t. After 25 years of it, it’s enormous fun to go back to the same restaurant even when I’m not working on it, and to order exactly what I want. I was never one of those critics who said [to dining companions], “You’ll order this and you’ll order that.” I let everybody order for themselves and I always ordered the thing no one else wanted. It’s great to look at a menu and be able even to order something that somebody else ordered. It’s very fun not to be a critic anymore.
WWD: Are there any new restaurants you wish you could review?
R.R.: Often, actually. When Esca opened, I had just left the job and I said, “Oh, god, they’re doing something so amazingly new here.” And every so often, I come upon a restaurant that annoys me enormously that I would like to write about. Megu, for example. I think it’s an absurd restaurant that everybody’s taking at its own word. Every once in a while I’ll hit one of those and think, “Now why can’t I write about this?” But I don’t do that anymore. It’s not my job.
WWD: But you could ambush them now. They won’t have your picture up in the kitchen anymore.
R.R.: I don’t think so. I don’t get in anywhere under the radar anymore.
WWD: Do you make reservations under your real name?
R.R.: I do. After 25 years, it’s fun to use my own name.