I enjoyed this book both the memoir of his early years explaining his relationship with food and family and his tenure as the restaurant critic at the NYT. ( )

It is deeply uncomfortable to bear witness to someone else's untreated mental health disorder. The good(?) news is that Bruni acknowledges that he was bulimic during the period of his life that included bingeing and purging. The bad news is that Bruni does not acknowledge that he is equally unhealthy during the periods in which he matches binges with periods of extreme restriction, amphetamines and excessive exercise. His overvalued ideas about weight are similarly unquestioned, so there are literally hundreds of pages about how he can't date/be photographed/meet his friends, etc. because he's too fat. From the time he starts telling us he's fat (infancy, page 6) until about page 180, it's not even true -- he's at most 5-10 pounds overweight on a 5'10" frame. It's clear by the time he actually gets fat that it's a self-inflicted condition from thirty years of yoyo dieting.

Things get better over two-thirds of the way through the book, when he actually becomes the NY times food editor (although the much ballyhooed association between that position and his weight loss is actually off by a couple of years) because his inside view on the food industry is fascinating. But that wasn't enough to save either the book, or really Bruni himself, who notes that he still binge eats occasionally (and here binge eating means literally that, not just an overindulgence), and in his mid-forties seems to have never had a serious romantic relationship or a strong commitment to anything beyond food and weight loss.

More books I only completed because I was stuck on an airplane -- and for this one, I was out of all other books and my laptop was out of power, so really, what else can one do? ( )

Interesting memoir from a guy who struggled with his weight all his life, and then became the NY Times restaurant critic. Bruni writes very well, and much of the book is entertaining. My god, though, through the first half he's constantly upset about being 5-10 pounds overweight, which is pretty maddening. But his description of his Italian immigrant family is spot on, and reminded me of a lot of my own childhood. Overall an enjoyable read. ( )

You can tell Bruni writes for a living. His memoir is well-written and compelling. Anyone who's dealt with an eating disorder or weight issues can likely relate to Bruni's struggle with body image, harmful dieting behaviors, and food obsession. Foodies will appreciate the behind the scenes details and amusing stories about life as a restaurant critic for the biggest paper in the country. Bruni doesn't ultimately offer a solution or redemption, but rather shares his process of coming to a place of management and acceptance with his relationship with food and his body image. I listened to the audiobook of the memoir and enjoyed the listen. ( )

I debated over whether to give this four stars or five. I have zero complaints about it: it was a solidly written book that easily kept my attention the whole way through. If I had to explain my hesitation over giving it five stars, perhaps it boils down to a lack of a wow factor. This book is a bit like the equivalent of a really good dish of spaghetti & meatballs -- tasty, flavorful, even a bit comforting, but yet it's never going to be something you call exciting, exactly.

Born Round is a bit of a tongue-in-cheek title. Ostensibly, it refers to a saying of his Italian grandmother's, something like, "Born round, you can't die square," meaning basically that people don't really change. In Frank Bruni's case, though, "born round" is also a bit of a lament about his natural tendency to love eating, and even overeating, resulting in a lifelong struggle (with battles both lost and won) to avoid a visibly rounded figure. I have seldom, if ever, read so frank (ha!) an examination of a man's body image issues. ( )