Angelou tells us about the time she was expelled from school for being afraid to speak, and her mother baked a delicious maple cake to brighten her spirits. She gives us her recipe for short ribs along with a story about a job she had as a cook at a Creole restaurant (never mind that she didn't know how to cook and had no idea what Creole food might entail). There was the time in London when she attended a wretched dinner party full of wretched people; but all wasn't lost, she did experience her initial taste of a savory onion tart. She recounts her very first night in her new home in Sonoma, California, when she invited M.F.K. Fisher over for cassoulet, and the evening Deca Mitford roasted a chicken when she was beyond tipsy, and created Chicken Drunkard Style. And then there was the hearty brunch Angelou made for a homesick Southerner, a meal that earned her both a job offer and a prophetic compliment: "If you can write half as good as you can cook, you are going to be famous."