Full Disclosure: I know the Author, and he used my name, saying it was the most generic name he had ever heard. My birth name was John Evans Brzenczyszczykiewicz, and no, I am not kidding. My father was Polish; he was killed in Vietnam, and I dropped his last name when I went to high school. The torture I would have experienced at Brother Martin with a name like that would have killed me.
In addition to taking my generic name, in the second major case of this book, the fictional version of me goes to Paris to find a missing girl and encounters Chef PJ, who has been transplanted into a 1946 character, personality fully intact. I had to read this book twice. The first reading I read, I recognized things from New Orleans and Paris and thought it was a great yarn. The second reading showed me the dark undercurrent of the Jim Crow era in the South. This book is as much about our perceptions based on skin colour and sexuality as it is a Detective Novel. It’s a pretty damn dense book.
I learned today that a French translation is in the works, and the book was just released on June 11. Bloggers, Podcasters, etc., will have to contact him directly. He is not yet willing to work with us, but he is a damn fine chef if we can ever coax him out of his shell.
It’s Not Always Murder, but the first case is a messy, ugly murder for a detective out of his world and out of his depth, much like I am a Louisianan living in Paris. You will relate if you have ever had to reinvent yourself to fit your environment. Check out the book, and thanks for reading my unbiased review. Now, back to your food tour.