We had the brunch of champions at Dallas' Southeast Asian fusion Malai Kitchen. The four of us got two orders of the eggs benedict and french toast. The french toast is pretty sweet if that's what you want, but the eggs benedict is where it's at. The Asian fusion part is subtle but wonderful--basil and tart tamarind sauce blend in perfectly. Charity got a slice of the coconut cream pie, which we definitely recommend.
It's hard to pin down exactly what was best about this book--the insertion of the author's identity as a character in this story, the way we are spoken to as if we are aliens, Vonnegut's hilariously juvenile drawings, the summaries of Trout's pulp sci-fi stories--perennially published in porn magazines, or the spot-on, meta-writer wit. I must have highlighted half of this book.
"Keep the hell out of my body bag."
"'This is a very bad book you're writing,' I said to myself behind my leaks. 'I know,' I said."
"'It's all like an ocean!' cried Dostoevski. I say it's all like cellophane."
"My psychiatrist is also named Martha...She is on vacation now. I like her a lot."