Slice and Dice Read Online Free PDF Page B

exaggerating her patient expression, “restaurant reviews aren’t about truth, they’re about
opinion.
Educated opinion, certainly, but opinion nonetheless.”
     
    “She’s just throwing dust in the air,” George blurted out, pointing a finger at her but looking at Yale. “That’s what happens when you give a tough job to a woman. Criticism isn’t for the faint of heart.”
     
    “You mean people like Ruth Reichl? Phyllis Richman? Gael Greene?”
     
    In a slow, reasoned tone, Yale asked, “So what’s your reviewing philosophy, Sophie?”
     
    She’d thought alxrnt that a lot over the years. “Well, I’d say that the quality of the food always comes first. Next would be service. Third, atmosphere. It’s an entire package, but again, just because you’re sitting in the midst of luxury doesn’t mean you’re going to have the best dining experience. I want the review itself to be entertaining, fun, but I prefer to write my critique from the standpoint of an average diner. Since I know a great deal about different cuisines, where I can educate, I will.”
     
    “I educate all the time,” muttered George.
     
    “You mean, like your review of the Belmont?”
     
    George flicked his eyes toward Yale. Pulling some dead leaves off a small schefflera, he said, “No, that was more on the order of a funeral notice.”
     
    “It was a hatchet job.”
     
    “And completely deserved.”
     
    “A review like that is never deserved.”
     
    “That’s where you and I disagree. It was a tough call, but I made the only honest one I could.”
     
    “To destroy a restaurant?”
     
    “I don’t have that much power, Sophie. All I did was report on the demise, which, I might add, was a fait accompli before I ever walked in the door.”
     
    “Thanks to your earlier review.”
     
    “I call ‘em as I see ‘em. That’s all any critic can do.”
     
    Yale stopped the argument by holding up his hand. “George, I agree with Sophie. I think you did go overboard on that last review of the Belmont.”
     
    “Well, then,” smirked George, “I guess you’ll just have to fire me.”
     
    Yale gave him a pained look. A second later there was another knock at the door. One of Yale’s editorial assistants poked his head in the room. “Sorry to interrupt, but I think you better take a look at this.” The young man entered and handed an envelope to Yale.
     
    As he pulled die letter out, Sophie could see that it was handwritten. She waited while Yale read through it.
     
    Cupping a hand to his forehead, Yale finally said, “We better notify the police about this.”
     
    “Yes, sir,” said the assistant.
     
    “What is it?” asked George.
     
    Yale sighed. “It’s a letter from Harry Hongisto, the owner of the Belmont. It’s addressed to you.”
     
    “Me?”
     
    “Well, it’s addressed to ‘that piece of slime restaurant critic.’ I assume he means you.”
     
    Sophie would have laughed out loud if the look on Yale’s face hadn’t been so grim.
     
    “Let me see that,” demanded George. He got up from his chair, walked around the desk, and yanked the paper out of Yale’s hand. Adjusting his glasses, he read through it, then handed it back, looking more than annoyed. “The guy’s a nutcase.”
     
    Sophie couldn’t let that one pass. “I’ve known Harry Hongisto for many years. He’s hardly that.” She wanted to read the letter, but Yale had already given it back to the assistant, who had left immediately. “Since I’ll be taking over George’s position, I’d like to know what it said.”
     
    “It was a death threat,” said Yale. “Hongisto said that any man who could take away another man’s livelihood just to show the reading public what a clever wit he had didn’t deserve to live.”
     
    Still standing, George folded his arms and rested them on his protruding stomach. “Just what I’d expect from some one like Hongisto. Sending a poison-pen letter shows what a coward he