I bought the gum on eBay, stale and discounted, so that I could afford it. It helped me skillfully restrict my food intake, providing both a distraction for my mouth and a speedy suppressant for my appetite. Now I was never without a piece of the gum.
I switched over to nicotine gum, which provided me with a way to “chew my cigarettes” and always be indulging. But when I started working at the talent management office, I was no longer able to smoke all day.
I’d begun smoking at sixteen and was never without a cigarette. I’d remove the night-soaked piece of nicotine gum from my mouth, put it on the nightstand, and replace it with a fresh piece. All that mattered was what I ate, when I ate, and how I ate it.Įvery day at 7:30, my alarm went off. It didn’t matter where I worked one Hollywood bullshit factory was equal to any other. It didn’t matter where I lived-Mid-City, Mid-Wilshire, or Miracle Mile. Milk Fed is “riotously funny and perfectly profane” ( Refinery 29) from “a wild, wicked mind” ( Los Angeles Times). “A ruthless, laugh-out-loud examination of life under the tyranny of diet culture” ( Glamour) Broder tells a tale of appetites: physical hunger, sexual desire, spiritual longing, and the ways that we compartmentalize these so often interdependent instincts. Rachel is suddenly and powerfully entranced by Miriam-by her sundaes and her body, her faith and her family-and as the two grow closer, Rachel embarks on a journey marked by mirrors, mysticism, mothers, milk, and honey. Rachel soon meets Miriam, a zaftig young Orthodox Jewish woman who works at her favorite frozen yogurt shop and is intent upon feeding her. Rachel is content to carry on subsisting-until her therapist encourages her to take a ninety-day communication detox from her mother, who raised her in the tradition of calorie counting. At night, she pedals nowhere on the elliptical machine. By day, she maintains an illusion of existential control, through obsessive food rituals, while working as an underling at a Los Angeles talent management agency. Rachel is twenty-four, a lapsed Jew who has made calorie restriction her religion. This darkly hilarious and “delicious new novel that ravishes with sex and food” ( The Boston Globe) from the acclaimed author of The Pisces and So Sad Today is a “precise blend of desire, discomfort, spirituality, and existential ache” ( BuzzFeed). Named a Best Book of the Year by Entertainment Weekly, Vogue, Time, Esquire, BookPage, and more
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