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Kate Hudson is a much better superhero than Clint Barton. I love the artwork, and I love that Kate is not sexy. Most of the time it's either headshots or silhouettes -- she is the protagonist, and the world is from her viewpoint most of the time.

Especially nice that Kate is broke, and has to call the police and use cellphones, rather than shoot laser beams out of her eyes or something.

Finally, a book about cooking I can understand.

The whole bullshit about making broth. The sizing of things. Letting you know if you need a blender and how long it will keep for. Assessing recipes by risk and technical ability.

The fucking swearing.

Giving you an idea of the effort versus reward. Taking about freezing and unfreezing things. Working with big hunks of meat throughout the week.

I’m a bit disappointed she didn’t go into slow cookers or instant pot things, but I totally agree on her on home cooked versus canned beans.

A soulcrushing lament, a paean to darkness, so edgy and goth that The Crow, Batman and That Guy Who Dresses Up As Guy Fawkes would drop to their knees and vomit up their last meals as tribute, this book devours and lays bare all it sees before it.