Book Look: Small Potatoes

I have been snowed in. Whenever they start talking about snow in Kansas, I like to call the weatherman's bluff. "Give me snow, I dare you!" I yell at my phone, usually as I'm getting dressed or putting on mascara. "They always call for snow, but they never give me snow! Nooo, it's always freezing rain." So, like I normally do, I called the weatherman's bluff yesterday.

And at about 1:00 p.m., I received big, white fluffy flakes that I watched float to the earth with unbridled joy. I hate sleet, I hate driving on ice, but I do love snow as it's happening. Those flakes began to accumulate, I went home, and when I woke up I realized that my car wouldn't be able to get out of my driveway.

I am trapped in my house.

You may be asking why I'm telling you this story as a way to begin a book review. I'm constantly complaining about not having time to write. You know what I have plenty of, since I couldn't go to work today? Time.

You know what else I have?

A to-read/to-review pile that's bigger than my head.

I decided I'd tackle the smallest (and funniest) book first: Small Potatoes by Sarah Hunt. It's 115 pages of anecdotes, life advice, and food. Mostly food, if we're honest, and this is not a bad thing. My sister told me about Sarah, who was looking for book reviewers, so I decided to peruse her Instagram profile and I knew.

I knew I needed to read this book.

Because Sarah and I are very close to being the same person: short, loud, and highly opinionated. I had no idea what she did or why people followed her, but I reached out and after a small-but-charming exchange, Sarah sent me her book. That I put at the top of my to-review pile, and then proceeded to have a rough/busy week; but as we now know, I'm snowed in with only these books and my inner demons to keep me company -- okay, that's a lie, my bird and dog are also vying for my attention.

I digress.

If you like nonfiction autobiographies, you'll like this book. It's a third of the size of those books, with all of the punch: Sarah walks you through parts of her childhood, her life as a stepmom, and some party tips that are super on point. We don't serve ants on a log at parties, children, no one is comfortable eating them and they're only good if you're trying (and failing) to be healthy.

I think it's a pretty good first shot, if I'm honest. It doesn't necessarily have a plot or one singular point it's working towards, and it's not really linear, but I liked it because I felt like I was sitting on my best friend's couch, listening to her tell me stories with a bottle of wine between us while we wait for dinner to cook. It is a nice Sunday evening of a book, you don't want it to end because then you're going to have to return to a sea of Mondays, but it's nice while it lasts.

Also, she said on page 11 that we're now best friends, and I'm holding her to that because we both appreciate a good, weird snack, and I need new recipes.

Verdict: buy the book. I'm going to lend this one to my sister, who has been wanting to read it, and I realize that I may never see it again.

So it goes.

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