I picked this
"Our hallway was the colour of ballpark mustard. The living room was cocoa, my mothers wall-to-wall, iceberg green. The floor of the lobby was maroon and white terrazzo like Genoa salami. When our elevator went self service, the wood was replaced by enamaled walls that looked like Russian dressing, the lumpy pink kind our housekeeper, Mattie, made by lightly folding Hellmanns mayonnaise into Heinz ketchup with a fork. Daisies were the fried eggs of
Nothing seduces me faster than domestic detail and interior description. That mixed with food talk, family history and humour, and above all else, promise, means I can’t wait to read on.