A cosy eatery has been crowned best pizzeria at the Italian Awards 2026, with diners praising its ‘quality hand-picked ingredients with generous toppings and a perfectly oven-fired base’
They also serve salads and sides(Image: Stable Hearth Neapolitan Pizzeria & Enoteca/Facebook)
Italian cuisine is a firm favourite for most families when dining out, and a delicious pizza never fails to please – so you might be astonished to discover some of the finest examples are right on your doorstep.
In what has evolved into something of an Oscars for the Italian hospitality industry, the Italian Awards 2026 took place, celebrating the very best establishments showcasing the cuisine throughout the UK.
From traditional cafes, restaurants, pizzerias and exceptional dishes – everything received its well-earned recognition at the highly prestigious ceremony.
Emerging victorious as the winner for best pizzeria in a category featuring five rival establishments was a charming eatery nestled in the town of Darlington in the North East.
Best Northumberland holiday cottage deals
This article contains affiliate links, we will receive a commission on any sales we generate from it. Learn more
Northumberland is famed for its rugged coastline, ancient castles and unspoiled natural beauty. Sykes Cottages has a range of places to stay starting from £38 per night
Housed within an old Victorian-style building with dark brickwork, in a softly lit environment, it creates an intimate atmosphere, perfect for enjoying authentic pizza.
It’s an unexpected location to discover delicious, genuine Italian pasta, hidden away in a market town, but it’s absolutely worth the detour during your travels around the Peak District.
The restaurant in New Mills, High Peak, roughly eight miles south-east of Stockport, and merely 13 miles from Manchester.
While it sits somewhat away from your typical culinary hotspots, it impressed Italian food experts sufficiently that it warranted acknowledgement for bringing genuine flavour to the town.
A recent customer raved on TripAdvisor: “Without a doubt the best pizza we have ever had. Quality hand-picked ingredients with generous toppings and a perfectly oven-fired base. I like the pepperoni lover the best.
“Simple but a full slice of quality pepperoni in every bite; you don’t run out halfway through as so often I find at other restaurants. Nick and his friendly relaxed team make this a dining experience to savour. P.S. The arancini are not to miss.”
Another delighted diner shared: “Fabulous pizza restaurant! Stable Hearth has such a lovely atmosphere. Really smart and classy decor, incredibly friendly staff and owners (so wonderful with our young children) and amazing pizzas.
“The chips are incredible with a fab choice of seasonings. The pizza menu offers great choices too. A really wonderful restaurant.”
The establishment clearly takes pride in serving authentic Neapolitan wood-fired pizza, featuring both traditional and contemporary styles.
According to TripAdvisor, this isn’t their sole achievement either; the compact yet impressive restaurant has secured the Best Pizzeria English Italian Awards in 2018, 2019 and 2022.
You’ll discover this delicious gem tucked away at 33-35 Duke Street, Darlington DL3 7RX. While there’s no dedicated car park on site, street parking is readily available, and it’s just a brief stroll from both Winston Street West Car Park and Abbott’s Yard Car Park.
Awards Director Warren Paul, discussing the launch of Italian Awards for 2026, expressed his delight in showcasing the efforts of “passionate people”.
He continued: “That’s why we do what we do. It’s to make sure the hard-working inspirational people and businesses get the recognition they deserve.
“Everyone jumps to criticise and leave a negative review or complaint over the tiniest thing, but very few rush to praise good service, food and experiences. That’s where we come in. So congratulations to our winners.”
Highly Recommended Pizzerias in the same category included:
Best Pizzeria Amico Mio (Clitheroe)
Best Pizzeria Osteria V2.0 (Shrewsbury)
Best Pizzeria Primavista Bury St Edmunds (Bury St Edmunds)
I’m looking for something that’s open early on the weekends (9 a.m.?) where we can take our 2-year-old daughter. We don’t want it to be an indoor play place or something that is solely designed for kids. Ideally, it would be something that adults enjoy too. Maybe something outdoors or with a restaurant/cafe where we can give ourselves a little treat. We are in Manhattan Beach and have to be back home by 12:30 p.m. for nap time. We’ve been able to make drives to Pasadena and Orange County and make it back in time (bonus of leaving on a Saturday or Sunday because there’s no traffic!) — Brittany Newell
Here’s what we suggest:
Finding places that will keep both you and your toddler entertained can be tricky. But don’t fret, Brittany! I’ve enlisted the help of some of my colleagues who are also parents that understand the need to flee the house before nap time. I’ve compiled a list of fun mini adventures that you can start early-ish.
For an activity close to home, Michelle Woo, The Times’ West Coast experiences editor, suggests renting a toddler bike trailer or bike seat from one of the local shops and taking a ride along the Strand from Manhattan to Redondo and back to Hermosa for a stop at Good Stuff, a beachside restaurant where you can enjoy a refreshing smoothie, mimosa or Woo’s go-to order, “the Good Stuff Breakfast with a pork sausage patty — simple yet comforting.” Then let your daughter play in the sand for a while. And if you haven’t been to the Roundhouse Aquarium before, it’s definitely worth a visit. The free, donation-based marine educational center is home to swell sharks, sea urchins, jellyfish and more that will leave visitors of any age in awe.
About 12 miles up the coast in Venice Beach is the newly renovated Windward Plaza Playground, a nautical-themed fun zone equipped with slides, swings, climbers and more. The best part is that it’s located on the sand at the beach just steps away from the famous boardwalk. Before you get to the park, my colleague Amy King suggests stopping by Breakaway Cafe for yummy breakfast burritos or Menotti’s for coffee.
For an early morning adventure, Times entertainment and features editor Brittany Levine Beckman recommends visiting the Riverside bike path in Frogtown, which opens at 6 a.m., so you can start as early as you’d like. She and her husband usually take turns pushing their 18-month-old daughter in a tricycle along the pathway and get their steps in. Afterward, she suggests going to Lingua Franca, a restaurant situated along the river. “We’ve arrived a few times as soon as the restaurant opens at 10 a.m. on the weekend and been the only early-bird brunchers,” she tells me. “We grab a table outside in the back and our daughter meanders without us feeling annoying.” The restaurant also serves a toddler-approved Dutch baby and a parent-approved bloody Mary, she adds. If you prefer to just grab a coffee, go to Tadaa.Coffee, which has a sand pit that your daughter can play in.
Another fun option is the Natural History Museum in Exposition Park, where you can wander through the awe-inspiring Dinosaur Hall, learn about the evolution of mammals, roam through the enchanting nature gardens and admire more than 2,000 gems and minerals from across the globe. The museum opens at 9:30 a.m., but there’s still plenty of time to explore before nap time. Levine Beckman also enjoys taking her daughter to the museum. “Our toddler loves the animal dioramas,” she tells me. “She likes staring up at the dinosaur bones too (and can say “roar” now), but the big stuffed animals are her favorite.” For food, my colleague Sophia Kercher recommends South LA Cafe, which is located at the museum.
Now for some rapid-fire ideas: Kercher suggests the Stoneview Nature Center, which is a plant-filled city sanctuary nestled in Culver City’s Blair Hills. Here you can chase hummingbirds, roam through the never-crowded garden and “visit Stoneview’s resident quails, which have their own fenced-in compound called, ‘Quallywood,’” she says. Times contributor Rachel Kraus, who recently wrote about the rise of mall parks in Southern California (and why parents are loving them), suggests the Proud Bird near LAX, which she calls “a one stop shop parent and kid utopia.” She adds, “You can order food and drinks (including from a full bar) and let your kids run around on the outdoor play structure, kick a ball on the turf or explore the vintage airplanes.” Also, be sure to check out our list of L.A. playgrounds that are close to coffee shops where you can get a jolt of energy if needed.
I hope these suggestions are helpful with planning your next morning adventure with your toddler and that you are able to create some fun new memories together. Happy exploring!
A low-key and cosy eatery in a market town has been crowned Best Pasta Restaurant at the Italian Awards 2026, putting the Derbyshire hidden gem on the culinary map
The authentic restaurant is known for being small and cosy (Image: A Tavola Gastronomia Siciliana)
Italian cuisine is always a firm favourite when it comes to dining out but what you might not realise is that some of the finest examples can be found right on your doorstep.
In what has essentially become the Oscars of the Italian hospitality world, the Italian Awards 2026 took place recently, celebrating the very best pizza, pasta, restaurants and cafés across the UK.
And in a fiercely competitive category, the winner of Best Pasta Restaurant turned out to be a hidden gem nestled in New Mills, High Peak, Derbyshire.
A Tavola Gastronomia Siciliana, the authentic Italian eatery, claimed the coveted prize – and will no doubt see a wave of curious food lovers descend upon them as a result.
Best Derbyshire holiday cottage deals
This article contains affiliate links, we will receive a commission on any sales we generate from it. Learn more
Derbyshire is known for its dramatic Peak District landscapes, historic market towns and stately country houses. Sykes Cottages has hundreds of places to stay, with prices from £32 per night.
Led by award-winning chef Alessio Muccio, the restaurant takes great pride in producing fresh pasta, gelato and pastries on the premises, using traditional Sicilian ingredients.
Their website states: “Our restaurant is small and cosy and adorned with Sicilian artefacts; it’s a little slice of Sicily here in the High Peak.”
One delighted customer left a glowing review on TripAdvisor, saying: “A Tavola is a colourful, warm, and welcoming trattoria located in the dark, cold, wintery heart of the Peak District.
“Highly recommended for those longing for those rich Sicilian flavours but far from the light and abundance of the Bel Paese. Sicilian sweet and sour flavours are present in many dishes, from pistachio and fennel to sardines with pine nuts and raisins.”
Another reviewer said: “What a wonderful restaurant! A lucky find as we were looking for somewhere to eat before going to hear some live music nearby. Very friendly staff, delicious food and a convivial ambience.
“I only wish it were not over 100 miles from my home. I highly recommend a visit, especially if you are missing being in Italy! You will be transported!”
The Derbyshire eatery bills itself as a ‘labour of love’ from the chef, who has crafted a menu designed to accommodate all dietary needs. What’s more, his specials change with the seasons to guarantee fresh and seasonal ingredients year-round.
These touches haven’t gone unnoticed by diners, with one writing: “Absolutely fantastic food and service. From start to finish totally delicious. Thanks so much. Can’t wait to go back. 5 stars!”
It’s an unexpected location to discover authentic, mouthwatering Italian pasta, nestled in a market town, but it’s definitely worth stopping by while exploring the Peak District.
The restaurant sits on Albion Road, New Mills, High Peak, roughly eight miles south-east of Stockport and just 13 miles from Manchester.
While it might seem somewhat off the beaten track, it wasn’t quite concealed enough to escape the notice of the Italian Awards, which bestowed upon it the recognition its patrons believe it richly deserves.
Awards Director Warren Paul, discussing the launch of the Italian Awards for 2026, expressed his delight in celebrating the efforts of “passionate people”. He added: “That’s why we do what we do.
“It’s to make sure the hard-working inspirational people and businesses get the recognition they deserve.
“Everyone jumps to criticise and leave a negative review or complaint over the tiniest thing, but very few rush to praise good service, food and experiences. That’s where we come in. So congratulations to our winners.”
Highly Recommended restaurants in the same category included:
Italian Touch By Ivano Pizzeria & Ristorante (Bedford)
Mele e Pere (London)
Primavista (Bury St Edmunds)
Shambles Restaurant & Winebar (Teddington)
The Kettlebridge Inn, Bar & Italian Restaurant (Cupar)
Spring has sprung in Los Angeles. In just a couple weeks, thousands of music lovers will make the trek to Indio’s Empire Polo Club for the Coachella Valley Music & Arts Festival, with dozens of L.A. chefs joining them. While in the desert, many festival goers take a detour through neighboring Palm Springs to explore museums, restaurants and bars before the dry climate climbs into the triple digits.
Closer to home, Los Angeles’ food scene is mourning the loss of two legendary haunts forced to permanently close their doors. After months of extensions, Cole’s French Dip closed at the end of March, though owner Cedd Moses said he was still hopeful that the city’s longest-running public house and rumored creator of the French dip sandwich would sell to a new owner. In Echo Park, Taix restaurant closed after 99 years of operation to make way for a six-story housing complex.
But it’s not all bad news for local restaurants. In Melrose Hill, a Bangladeshi chef has returned to the kitchen after a two-decade-long break from the industry. Across town, a viral smashburger spot from a celebrated chef is drawing lines for its juicy Wagyu patties. And for those heading to the desert, restaurant critic Bill Addison insists a modern Mexican pop-up is worth the weekday trip. Here are 13 places to put on your dining agenda this month:
On March 29, Taix as we know it closes forever. The iconic French restaurant originally opened downtown in 1927 and relocated to its current chalet on Sunset Boulevard in 1962. It’s a grim reminder of L.A.’s insatiable appetite to destroy its own heritage and especially devastating to a certain milieu of writers and artists, myself very much included. Since it announced its closure, I’ve been visiting as often as I can to say farewell, not only to the charmingly shabby faux-1920s interiors, but to the many lives I’ve lived at its tables. First as a young guitarist when a bandmate worked the bar’s soundboard, next with the Chinatown artist scene, then with Semiotext(e)’s avant-garde lit circle, later through firecracker romances and heartbreaks during the art party Social Club, recently floating through the louche carnival of Gay Guy Night and now with the circus of beatniks from my reading series Casual Encountersz.
Share via
It’s difficult to explain why this cavernous and windowless restaurant means so much, so I’ve tried to list everything I love about Taix.
I love that they don’t play music. I love the 1960s bathrooms. I love the bottomless tureens of soup. I love the complimentary crudité from the pre-pandemic era. I love the cold pats of butter. I love that you can always get a table, no matter how many people roll in. I love the free refills on Diet Cokes. I love the 80-year-old couples on dates. I love how the dim lighting makes everyone seem chic. I love the frayed carpeting. I love the fake votive candles. I love the icy martinis. I love the corner booth beside the fireplace. I love the smoked mirrors and tin-plate ceilings in the elegant back dining rooms. I love the small fortune I’ve spent there picking up the check for many strippers, poets and bohemians. I love its rundown glamour, which miraculously evokes Old Hollywood, Belle Époque and trashy Americana all at once. I unironically love the food, which isn’t spectacular, but is very comforting. I love how a waitress once ran off with a friend of mine and slept on my couch for a week. I love how my wife generally hates eating at restaurants but loves eating at Taix. I love how every L.A. artist I know has their own singular version of this list.
The only thing I don’t love about Taix is that its owners are tearing it down to erect soulless condos. I know the city needs housing, but not like this. I hope we’ll all find a new place to call home again soon.
Taix shaped me as a writer and artist, along with so many others, which is why before the new owners demolish this cultural institution, I asked other creatives what the Echo Park landmark means to them.
Chris Kraus.
(Ariana Drehsler / For The Times)
Chris Kraus, writer, artist and co-editor of the independent press Semiotext(e): When I moved to L.A. in 1995, Taix was the go-to place, with its deep banquettes, cuisine bonne-femme and its nightly prix-fixe specials. Mostly it was police officers and their wives who went there. Sylvère Lotringer and I went often, for him it was a little reprieve from the non-Frenchness of L.A. He could order in French and exchange pleasantries with an elderly French waiter who seemed to live there. Years later, when Sylvère moved to Ensenada and was less active with Semiotext(e), Taix was the site of our “Annual General Meetings” — Hedi El Kholti, Sylvère and I would have dinner together and Hedi would catch Sylvère up on all the forthcoming publications and projects. Taix was a place to run into people unexpectedly. About a decade ago, when the bar was refreshed, it changed again and I kind of lost track of it.
Rachel Kushner, novelist: I dined at Taix probably once per week for 23 years. It hurts so much that it is closing. I simply stopped going, so that I could begin to grieve, and also to avoid every last random tourist standing by the host station, on their phone, and the glum possibility of being seated in the second dining room, a.k.a “the Morgue” as my friend Benjamin Weissman put it. I want to protect my memories of the special occasions I enjoyed in this perennial special occasion establishment … I want to remember Bernard, a cheerful Basque from Biarritz who worked there 60 years, got progressively trashed over the course of his shift, went to Bakersfield on Sundays to party with his sheep-herding countrymen, came back Wednesdays sunburned and happy. The old valets who were let go during the pandemic. I used to give them a Christmas bonus every year, as a thanks for letting me park my classic out front. Look, I was born in Taix. I mean, in a way. I nursed my newborn in Taix. He grew up there. People who criticize the food are losers, and will never understand. The steak frites are great. The panna cotta, discontinued after the pandemic, was my favorite. The Louis Martini Cabernet was reliable. (Bernard told me the wine cellar downstairs took up the entire footprint of the main restaurant. Don’t know if that’s true.) Meanwhile, I can’t put my arm around a memory. All the smart girls know why. It doesn’t mean I didn’t try.
Cord Jefferson, writer and director: When I started going to Taix, in 2004, you could still gamble at the bar. They sold keno slips and lottery tickets, and whenever Powerball got over $100 million, I’d buy a ticket with my pint. Where else can you do all that while simultaneously watching a game and eating a tourte de volaille? Taix was where I watched the heroic Zinedine Zidane headbutt the gutless Marco Materazzi in the saddest World Cup final ever. When France lost that afternoon, my favorite server, Phillipe, cried. Phillipe’s teeth were often as wine-stained as his customers’. He’d bum me cigarettes in the parking lot and speak abusively about the ways the neighborhood was changing. I’m happy Phillipe is not around to see the digital renderings of what they plan to erect once they demolish the Taix chateau: another condo building with all the charm of a college dorm. It’s a damn shame what’s happening to Taix. I wish I had more money so I could buy it and keep it around, but I never won the Powerball.
John Tottenham, novelist and poet: It’s a shame that Taix is closing, not only because other plans will now have to be made for my funeral reception, but because it was the last civilized watering hole in the neighborhood. There isn’t anywhere else that one can walk into and immediately satisfy the social instinct among a convivial and refreshingly diverse clientele in what is becoming an increasingly homogenized locality. It has been the nexus of my social life for over 20 years, and is simply irreplaceable.
Jade Chang.
(Ariana Drehsler / For The Times)
Jade Chang, novelist: I’d only known Taix as a raucous bardo of a French restaurant, then there was a memorial service for Alex Maslansky, my beloved friend Max’s brother, owner of Echo Park’s best bookstore, Stories. Alex was a beautiful and beleaguered soul, born worried, born romantic, difficult and hopeful and apparently a shockingly good poker player. The room was packed with music people and book people, sober friends and poker friends, packed with the gorgeous girls who’d always loved him, our collective sorrow potent and sweet enough to pull the walls in around us tight as we said goodbye and goodbye.
Alexis Okeowo, New Yorker staff writer: I was a late discoverer of Taix, stumbling upon it when I moved to a bungalow just above Sunset during the pandemic from New York. I seemed to only see writer friends there. I met up with a journalist for drinks and then ran into a new writer friend at the bar. I later had a big, spontaneous dinner with TV writer friends and then a birthday celebration in the dining rooms that ended in two friends escorting me home, sick and happy off a mostly-martini meal and the selfies I took in the bathroom with the iconic pink and gold wallpaper. Every time, there was talk about ideas and gossip and so, so much laughter.
Alberto Cuadros, writer/curator and co-founder of the Social Club: About 10 years ago, Max Martin and I started Social Club as a weekly social salon at Taix. We thought of it as a kind of Beuysian social sculpture, it was a weekly ritual, and over time it became something of an institution in the L.A. art world. Everyone knew where to go in L.A. on a Wednesday if they wanted to meet interesting people or find friends. I even met my wife there who was visiting from Montreal.
Siena Foster-Soltis, playwright: Taix felt like one of the few remnants of the L.A. I grew up in and love so dearly.
Ruby Zuckerman.
(Ariana Drehsler/For The Times)
Ruby Zuckerman, writer and co-founder of the reading series This Friday: Taix is the only restaurant in L.A. that doesn’t lose its mind if new friends drop in halfway through dinner or if you stay at your table for hours after you stopped ordering. That kind of flexibility leads to spontaneous nights where what started off as an intimate hang expands into an all-out party. As a writer, that flexibility has allowed me to meet editors, collaborators and readers, drawn together by pure fun rather than networking. One of my favorite nights involved getting in a physical altercation with novelist John Tottenham after he stole my phone to send prank texts to my boyfriend. I’ll miss taking selfies in the bathroom.
Blaine O’Neill, DJ and events organizer: I always say Taix is the “People’s Country Club.” It is exceptional because of the staff who understand the importance of hospitality, and the scale of the space is humane. You’re able to evade feeling pinched by the noose of transactional cosmopolitanism.
Tif Sigfrids, gallerist and publisher Umm…: Taix was a cultural nexus. A space with broad range. It went from being the dark bar I read books and day-drank at in my 20s to the place where I rented a private room to host my son’s first birthday party. It’s where I watched Barack Obama get elected twice, the Lakers win back-to-back championships, and where I indulged in countless night caps and an unreasonable amount of all-you-can-eat split pea soup. You never knew what kind of hot jock, wasted poet or other type of intrigue you might run into there. You can’t make a place like Taix up. It’s a place that just miraculously happens.
Kate Wolf, writer and editor: Though I have been going to Taix for nearly 20 years, embarrassingly, it was only in the last year that I realized the building wasn’t from the 1920s. Those smoke-stained mirrors, that tin ceiling, the drapery and light fixtures are in fact set-dressed — ersatz! Which of course only makes me love the place more. Taix’s history, and its spot in the city’s cultural firmament, cannot be denied. But what really makes it so special are the people who work there and the clientele, not its past. This point is perhaps my only hope in losing what is my favorite restaurant in Los Angeles. That by some divine grace, we will all find each other again in another spot, designed to a different decade than the horror-filled present, and fill it with the same warmth, the same bottomless soup bowl, the same cheer.
1/4
Hedi El Kholti, the co-editor of Semiotext(e). (Ariana Drehsler/For The Times)
2/4
Writers Lily Lady and Siena Soltis-Foster. (Ariana Drehsler/For The Times)
3/4
Poet Meat Stevens (Steven Lesser). (Ariana Drehsler/For The Times)
4/4
Sammy Loren, writer and curator of Casual Encountersz. (Ariana Drehsler/For The Times)
Hedi El Kholti, artist and co-editor Semiotext(e): Taix is where we would end up after every reading since 2004 when I started working at Semiotext(e). I have memories of being there with Kevin Killian, Dodie Bellamy, Gary Indiana, Michael Silverblatt, Colm Tóibín, Rachel Kushner and Constance Debré among others … Taix has that particular anachronistic vibe that made L.A. so charming when I moved here in 1992, one of these places that time forgot. It was odd when it became really hip in the last 10 years. It made me think of what Warhol wrote about Schrafft’s restaurant when it had been redesigned to keep up with the fashion of the moment and had consequently lost its appeal. “If they could have kept their same look and style, and held on through the lean years when they weren’t in style, today they’d be the best thing around.”
Loren is the founding editor of the art and literary conceptual “tabloid” On the Rag and curator of the reading series Casual Encountersz.
If you buy books linked on our site, The Times may earn a commission from Bookshop.org, whose fees support independent bookstores.
Pierre Choderlos de Laclos, the author of “Dangerous Liaisons,” is often credited with “Revenge is a dish best served cold.” Given our aggrieved times, it’s not surprising how many of this year’s new mysteries explore revenge, but these four recent releases are especially notable.
Author Jose Ando
(Yuka Fujisawa)
Jackson Alone By Jose Ando Soho Press; 160 pages; $29
While English translations of Japanese crime novels have increased in the last 20 years, most still focus on a culturally homogeneous, straight, Japanese society. Now comes Jose Ando’s “Jackson Alone,” published in Japan in 2022 andtranslated into English by Kalau Almony, which centers on a mysterious African Japanese massage therapist whose life is upended after his clients and colleagues at a fictional sports conglomerate discover a violent revenge porn featuring someone who looks like him. Despite having no memory of the incident, Jackson joins three other outraged, queer men like him in switching identities to seek out and confront their abusers, who can’t seem to tell them apart.
As the quartet’s scheme plays out, this slim novel becomes less a revenge thriller and more a satiric unmasking of Japanese racism and homophobia which spurs “the four Jacksons” to claim their right to exist authentically without the judgment and stereotyping of the hetero, “pure Japanese” gaze. This bold debut earned “Jackson Alone” wide praise and Japan’s Bungei Prize, awarded to first-time novelists, and makes Ando, now in his early 30s, a writer to watch. (The author’s answers to the following questions were translated by Almony.)
Why was it important for you to tell the stories of queer African Japanese men in your novel?
The primary reason was that those characters never really showed up in Japanese literature, and even when they did, they’d be reshaped into something that was easily digestible for the majority. Before I became an author, I would get irritated whenever I encountered that sort of representation. I wrote “Jackson Alone” to submit to a competition for new writers. In my head, it felt like Jackson and the other characters were there the whole time hollering, “Hurry up and get us out there!”
While there are some frank sex scenes in the novel, what shocked me was how dehumanizing encounters with many “pure Japanese” were for Jackson and his friends. Why were those scenes important to the story?
Living as a minority, you often get questions along the lines of, “What kind of painful things have you experienced?” Right? When you’re asked something like that, don’t you always want to shoot back, “Before you ask me about my experience, why don’t you tell me what you’ve done?” Victimization doesn’t just happen because a person from a minority group is standing around, there’s almost always a perpetrator. The different kinds of dehumanization I wrote about in this book are based on the sorts of things I experience almost every day.
In terms of novels I’ve read, there’s “Out”by Natsuo Kirino and the works ofMieko Kawakami. My direct inspiration though comes mostly from my own life.
Author Caroline Glenn
(William Morrow)
Cruelty Free By Caroline Glenn William Morrow; 320 pages; $30
In Glenn’s fiction debut, Lila Devlin, once one of the most famous actresses on the planet, returns to Los Angeles 10 years after the kidnapping and death of her daughter, Josie. The kidnapping caused a media frenzy, which precipitated Devlin’s meme-worthy downward spiral and the end of her marriage to a rising young Hollywood actor. After an “Eat Pray Love” retreat from the spotlight, Devlin is back with Glob, a line of ethical skincare products with a higher purpose: “A way for Josie to live on by applying the principles of self-actualization and inner peace that she learned in India. She wanted to help people heal just as she had.”
But Hollywood has a short memory and most of the people who benefited from Devlin’s meteoric rise and the kidnapping can’t be bothered to help her now. After a meeting with one of them goes horribly wrong, Devlin and her publicist Sylvie, another a victim of Hollywood’s censure, find revenge offers a unique albeit gruesome ingredient for Glob’s products. Although the novel’s flashbacks seem to digress at times, it all clicks into place once Lila starts exacting her increasingly unhinged revenge. “Cruelty-Free” is an edgy journey with razor-sharp observations about fame and revenge. Readers will be looking forward to what comes next for this talented creator.
What inspired your novel?
I love Sondheim’s “Sweeney Todd.” So much. And the core of that story, a man falsely imprisoned for a crime he didn’t commit and eventually driving him insane, is unfortunately pretty evergreen. Other inspirations: the Lindbergh baby, how much I hate true crime media, NYC publicist Lizzie Grubman, cash grab celebrity beauty brands, rich white women going on “Eat Pray Love” trips to Asia, the city of Los Angeles (go Dodgers).
Lila Devlin makes a journey from being a grieving mother to being a villain. How do you keep the reader’s sympathies?
I don’t think the reader’s sympathies are supposed to necessarily stay with Lila. The core of this book, stripping away the weird digressions, is about how society makes monsters. Lila’s career, her body, her entire life was consumed by the world until she was left with nothing, and now she’s holding a mirror back up to it. You can understand where she’s coming from, but after a certain point … she’s gonna hit diminishing returns.
In your thinking, is revenge ever justified?
The point isn’t whether or not it’s justified. It’s whether or not it’ll make you feel better. And it can’t, it’s hollow. Nothing will ever undo the original sin, and devoting your life to ruining someone else’s is a loss for both of you.
Author Leodora Darlington
(YellowBelly Photo)
The Exes By Leodora Darlington William Morrow; 384 pages; $29
This UK fiction editor’s debut centers on Natalie, driven into therapy to get to the root of her blackouts and the murderous impulses toward former boyfriends they may be hiding. But then Natalie meets “the one” — James, her boyishly handsome boss at a London start-up — and becomes even more terrified that the monster inside her may strike again.
In carefully interwoven flashbacks and letters to her exes, readers learn why: Natalie’s disastrous dating histories — and the deaths of her abusive boyfriends — are detailed as well as her early relationship with James and the family trauma she and her younger sister suffered at the hands of a father who they saw abuse, and almost kill, their mother.
But, empathy aside, does any amount of family or romantic trauma justify revenge, even murder? By the time Darlington builds her case for and against Natalie, James and the other characters in this tightly drawn circle, readers will be taken through a number of sometimes shocking reveals that suggest that the family ties that bind can also cut off opportunities for forgiveness. Darlington has crafted a dark, edgy thriller whose engaging protagonist and intriguing psychological insights linger in the mind long after the memory of that last, jaw-dropping twist fades away.
What inspired your novel? “The Exes” began with a title that just popped into my head: “To All the Boys I Killed Before.” I adore the romance genre — I’m a huge fan of tropes, from enemies-to-lovers to fake dating. But that love for romance exists alongside a growing frustration with the rollback of women’s rights globally. That convergence of feelings made me wonder: What kind of girl would write letters to former flames, not out of love, but out of despair?
For much of the novel, readers can’t be sure whether Natalie has murdered her exes in a fit of rage or if something else is at play. How did you draw on this uncertainty to build the reader’s sympathies for the character?
What felt important in drawing readers close to Natalie was letting them see through a window into her past and why she is the way she is. Understanding her as a vulnerable child or anxious teen feels crucial to making sure we’re invested in all of the twists that slam through the second half of the novel. I really do think a great twist requires deep character empathy as much as it does clever plotting.
In your thinking, is revenge ever justified? Yes. Ha! Well, in all seriousness, quite a few characters in this story are pursuing their own revenge plots. I do think it is possible to justify revenge to a jury, but never to oneself. Not in a soul-deep way. The pursuit of revenge takes a spiritual tax on a person that can sometimes cost more than they’ve bargained for, and we see the unraveling effects of that in “The Exes.”
Author W. M. Akers
(Gianna Smorto)
To Kill a Cook By W.M. Akers G.P. Putnam’s Sons; 384 pages; $30
After so much revenge, W.M. Akers has just the palate cleanser in “To Kill a Cook”, a homage to 1970s Manhattan and its fine dining temples. Bernice Black, a sharp-tongued restaurant critic for the Sentinel, a struggling newspaper, is meeting chef Laurent Tirel, her culinary mentor and friend, at his restaurant to plan her fiancé’s birthday party. But Tirel, once lauded as “King of the Butter Boys,” is struggling too. Caviar and truffle prices are skyrocketing, forcing Tirel to cut corners while clinging to his restaurant’s former glory. When Bernie finds the restaurant empty and a veal stock reduced to the consistency of “cold blood,” she thinks Tirel is making an aspic for the party. Instead, she finds Tirel’s head in the refrigerator, suspended in the aspic along with the decorative veggies.
Thus begins an intense romp through New York’s finest restaurants when Bernice — who realizes the NYPD doesn’t know their aspics from a hole in the ground — decides to get the scoop of the decade by finding Tirel’s killer herself. Akers nails 1970s New York’s glitz and grime as Bernie interviews an assortment of renowned chefs, fellow critics, criminals as well as Tirel’s business associates and son, Henri, who also happens to be an old flame. But the pièce de résistance of this delectable mystery is Bernice herself — a bold, brash feminist who’s trying to figure out her sexuality while being honest with the ones she loves. Here’s Bernice replying to an NYPD detective’s accusation that she’s not a lady: “I guess that was supposed to hurt my feelings, but I quit trying to be ladylike sometime around the first grade.” “To Kill a Cook” is a decadent treat, with enough loose ends in Bernice Black’s life and career to leave readers hungry for more.
Why did you decide to set your novel in 1970s Manhattan?
1972 was a key turning point in the history of American fine dining. It’s the moment when old-school French — think white tablecloths, heavy sauces and snooty maitre’d’s — faded into the background, allowing nouvelle cuisine and what we now call New American to take its place. It’s also a moment when exceptional, modern cooking would share a menu with “parsleyed ham in aspic” or something else that today’s diners would consider repulsive. That tension between old and new, and the question of what fine dining would become, drives a lot of the conflict in the book.
How did you research the restaurants you describe so well in the book? Did any of those chefs/restaurateurs inspire Laurent Tirel, the murder victim?
I have a big pile of old cookbooks that inspired a lot of the specific dishes in the book, but the best resource was the New York magazine archives, particularly Gael Greene’s old columns. Bernice Black’s name is a little nod to Greene. And Tirel is very much inspired by Henri Soulé, whose Le Pavillon was the definitive New York restaurant for a generation, and whom Greene wrote about beautifully.
Bernice spends a lot of time trying to perfect a Charlotte Russe for her fiancé. Why that particular dish?
The Charlotte Russe is a specialty of my mother, a former caterer who helped run New York’s Hard Rock Café in the ’70s. It’s the kind of lavish, creamy, boozy party dessert that you don’t see often anymore, and it’s involved enough to offer Bernice a challenge. Julia Child’s got a good recipe in “Mastering the Art of French Cooking,” but I relied on my mom’s recipe, whichreaders can find on my Patreon, and which my mom once cooked for Jacques Pépin!
Woods is abook critic, editor and author of several anthologies and crime novels.
