Matthew Batt's elegiac The Last Supper Club is a tender yet clear-eyed portrait of a fiercely dedicated community of restaurant lifers and the dreams they build, nurture, and—often too briefly—inhabit. The most beautiful stuff in this book taps into the almost primal wonder and magic so many of us associate with our first experiences eating in restaurants and being waited on by complete strangers. This book understands the lingering spell of that experience better than anything else I've read, and Batt is almost Proustian in mining his early memories of food and restaurants. He also understands that alchemy is the one true, worthy goal of any dreamer who opens a restaurant—or throws themselves with real passion into working in one.