This book is so much -- it's a travelogue, an exploration of winemaking, a story of friendship, but, most important, a book about how to become an adult. With our seeing as a culture that toxic masculinity can be replaced by good men trying to become better men, Steve Hoffman's story of wanting to be "that guy" in Paris to becoming a real father, husband, and friend in the grittier part of Southern France is an example for others to follow. I felt like I knew everyone in this book by the end. The writing is beautiful, and the sensory details exquisite. I read _everything_ about cooking in France, and so I am surprised this book wasn't recommended to me by the algorithm. Instead, I heard an episode of The Splendid Table and rushed to buy it.

All the IG and other ads showed, lovely detailed pics of France and food and such. All I got was a well written novel. This is not the well-storied coffee table book portrayed in the ad campaigns. I'm disappointed and I feel more than a little deceived.

A great and engaging read. It felt like a cross between P. G. Wodehouse and M. F. K. Fisher. Sometimes I would laugh out loud at a comedic situation, other times I would be engrossed by the trials and triumphs of his family, always I was entranced by the descriptions of food and scenery.

The delight for this book begins with the title. Insider knowledge reminds us that “That” is indicative of something which sits in fullness, incapable of capture or measure. This book is all about demonstrating relationships, about pointing to people and things in their voluptuous context. Steve Hoffman can be situated among those “Ricains” who have the lovely quality of seeing both inward and outward and curating something significant from these insights. I imagine the many nights of the 40 below Minnesota where he attempted to chronologize and make meaning of these French experiences, trying to find the right words to express all “That”. If I had to think of one adjective to describe this read it would be chaleur, or “warmth”. Yet, it embodies a realistic balance of the elements, and moods, to depict a family out of its comfort zone and learning to take root in another kind of ground. As an author, Steve is a master of description. His self-reflection is re-assuring because he shows his vulnerability and does not try to make things, or himself, grander than they really were. Like his photographer wife and daughter, he focused on what seemed most significant, even if it highlighted his deep insecurity or his struggle to take in his wife Mary-Jo’s admonishments regarding his unwillingness to “show up” and be present in the midst of his discomfort and garrulous inner critic. Steve became an expert on his topic and was no slouch in conveying the sensual experience of things like farm equipment, a baguette bathing in bloody hamburger sludge or a cheese made of goat. Nudged to Mary-Jo’s invitations to “connect”, Steve’s neighbours are lively and unsuspecting characters who work their way into the award-winning supporting actors. It is a pleasure to get to know them and think about how I might negotiate such unfamiliar situations and expectations. Should this book become a best-selling film, I would be delighted to Jean-Luc and Nicole on the red carpet at Cannes. This story about finding home, about making family, and about falling in love with one’s own life. It is about recognizing that one’s life is hardy enough to be moved across contexts and remain intact and come of age in the process. As well as the novel itself, Steve’s family undergoes a similar plot development as well as the characters and the village of Autignac itself. It is a journey towards self-love, in a deeper, non-egotistical, trans-personal way. The plot of the book resonates with the taroic and archetypal Fool’s journey, moving through the arcana, through Magician, to Tower, to Star, to the World on a path of actualization. At some point, Steve is like the “hanged man”, learning to relax and let go into the situation, transcending the Parisian fantasy of a suave, performative ‘man about town’. And in what better place to accomplish one’s actualization, than the former kingdom of France, with foreign tongues… And the joke is on us.. just when you think you will practice your French you end in the land of Oc. While this brings us “there’s no place like home,” Steve Hoffman reminds us that home is where our loved ones are and where we love and care for the land. And, with the right mixture of ingredients, home and family can be evoked with new kin, both human and more-than-human relatives. I might venture to call Steve’s work “the new American novel”, which does not take place on American soil and nurtures a kind of “love for the other, and of place” that is so badly needed at this time. This book brought me to tears at least three times, and not in a stinky cheesy way, but with full-hearted appreciation.

Very enjoyable book for anyone who loves to travel and likes wine. Well written.

Steve Hoffman has written a memoir with admirable candor, and in a style that is a joy to read. I feel I've actually come to know (and fall in love with) his family, and the many people they spent time with while in France. What a wonderful experience they had, and how fortunate we are that Mr. Hoffman has shared it with us.

This is one of the best books I’ve read in a long time! The story is heartwarming, beautiful, and masterfully articulate. The reader is taken on a journey through the picturesque landscape of a small town in France seen through the eyes of an American family. Their experience from the point of view of a husband and father is relatable, and at the same time, extraordinary. 10/10

Steve Hoffman gave us a creatively written memoir of his and his family's time in a small village in Southern France. His insights into the community culture and his family are so perceptive. Enjoyed it thoroughly!