This is probably the sort of book I’d have appreciated more sitting by the ocean, laying in the sun without much to do, just before a seafood cookout to appreciate the setting. It was good enough, but I hate to say that I’m not sure what about the author’s experience here necessitated a book.
She spends two summers (I think? Maybe more) on an oyster farm that ships to restaurant luminaries like Thomas Keller (and foodie that I am, her dinner at Alinea might have been my favorite part of the book), then transitions to office duties there and “seeding” the farm (depositing itty bitty baby oysters in the bay to grow). Coworkers come on board but rarely go, so much is the farm a family. Eventually she outgrows the job and moves on.
It’s all in all a pleasant read, but none of the author’s experiences made me think “wow, this needed to be a book.” She’s a good writer, but I get the distinct feeling that this was a job taken by necessity and then mined for a book because writers gotta write. I’m having a hard time recounting any memorable passage in the book aside from the Alinea trip, it’s the sort of beach book that goes through your head like sand in the water.
Which is not entirely a dig! Not every book has to be Pulitzer-worthy. And this was pleasant enough for the dollar I spent on it. But it’s going back in the resale pile.