Excerpt from Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

"It might seem that way, but--"

"A man can make lunch, Mr. Pine. It is not biologically impossible."

"Absolutely," he agreed, fumbling with a chair. "Please, Mrs. Zott, please sit."

"I have something in the cyclotron," she said irritably, glancing at her watch. "Do we have an understanding or not?"

"Cyclo--"

"Subatomic particle accelerator."

Elizabeth glanced at the walls. They were filled with framed posters advertising melodramatic soap operas and gimmicky game shows.

"My work," Walter said, suddenly embarrassed by their crassness. "Maybe you've seen one?"

She turned back to face him. "Mr. Pine," she said in a more conciliatory manner, "I'm sorry I don't have the time or resources to make your daughter lunch. We both know food is the catalyst that unlocks our brains, binds our families, and determines our futures. And yet ..." She trailed off, her eyes growing narrow as she took in a soap opera poster featuring a nurse giving a patient some unusual care. "Does anyone have the time to teach the entire nation to make food that matters? I wish I did, but I don't. Do you?"

As she turned to leave, Pine, not wanting her to go or fully understanding what he was about to hatch, said quickly, "Wait, please just stop--please. What--what was that thing you just said? About teaching the whole nation how to make food that--that matters?"

Supper at Six debuted four weeks later. And while Elizabeth wasn't entirely keen on the idea--she was a research chemist--she took the job for the usual reasons: it paid more and she had a child to support.

From the first day Elizabeth donned an apron and walked onto the set, it was obvious: she had "it," the "it" being that elusive, entirely watchable quality. But she was also a person of substance--someone so forthright, so no-nonsense that people didn't know what to make of her. While other cooking shows featured good-natured chefs gleefully tipping back the sherry, Elizabeth Zott was serious. She never smiled. She never made jokes. And her dishes were as honest and down-to-earth as she was.

Within six months, Elizabeth's show was a rising star. Within a year, an institution. And within two years, it had proven its uncanny power not only to unite parents with their children, but citizens with their country. It is not an exaggeration to say that when Elizabeth Zott finished cooking, an entire nation sat down to eat.

Even Vice President Lyndon Johnson watched her show. "You want to know what I think?" he said as he waved off a persistent reporter. "I think you ought to write less and watch TV more. Start with Supper at Six--that Zott, she knows what she's doing."

And she did. You'd never find Elizabeth Zott explaining how to make tiny cucumber sandwiches or delicate soufflés. Her recipes were hearty: stews, casseroles, things made in big metal pans. She stressed the four food groups. She believed in decent portions. And she insisted that any dish worth making was worth making in under an hour. She ended every show with her signature line: "Children, set the table. Your mother needs a moment to herself."

But then a prominent reporter wrote an article entitled "Why We'll Eat Whatever She Dishes Out" and, in passing, referred to her as "Luscious Lizzie," a nickname that, because it was both apt and alliterative, stuck to her as quickly as it did the paper it was printed on. From that day forward, strangers called her Luscious, but her daughter, Madeline, called her Mom, and although she was just a child, Madeline could already see that the nickname belittled her mother's talents. She was a chemist, not a TV cook. And Elizabeth, self-conscious in front of her only child, felt ashamed.

Sometimes Elizabeth lay in bed at night and wondered how her life had come to this. But the wonder never lasted long because she already knew.

His name was Calvin Evans.

Chapter 3

Excerpted from Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus. Copyright © 2022 by Bonnie Garmus. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.