The NY Times gave this novel, which is about a young woman moving to New York and working as a backwaiter in an upscale restaurant, a more competent review than I ever could and I agreed with it. I liked it very much despite my lack of knowledge about food and wine. I know nothing about either and have no interest in learning. I eat just to stay alive and I'll often make myself the same meal for many months at a time. I learned a little about food from reading it—like the difference between East Coast and West Coast oysters—but most of the food stuff went over my head.
No matter. Danler writes as well about being a new New Yorker, among other things, as any generation has. Here's her description of walking through a city park:

Dreadlocked men playing chess and nodding to themselves, dogs slumped against dead-eyed kids with tears tattooed on their faces, the bursts of commuters up from the subways, dilating into the streets, the garbage cans overflowing with plastic water bottles and trashed New York dailies, a woman screaming into a cell phone while adjusting her bra, three blond men on a corner holding a map between them, speaking German, the sidewalk quaking as the N, Q, R trains ran in and out of the station underneath, a smoky, acrid cloud next to a gyro cart, tables laid with paperbacks, cheap leather, bulk T-shirts, the leftovers of lives, and then dehydrated carnations, left in the middle of the sidewalk, fossilized in plastic, irradiated with light. Everyone stepped around them, tenderly. I moved out of their way as well

She also has those little secrets about women that men wonder about and like to know: "I wished my hair was down so my neck and cheek weren't so vulnerable."
Two observations: One, the novel takes place in 2006. That's a year before the iPhone came out and before anyone had heard of Facebook. I think it would be a different novel if it took place in, say, 2013. I'm glad it takes place when it does. Two, it's being called a "coming of age" novel and I suppose it is, but people my age (late 50s) think of that phrase referring to people in their teens to late teens. The narrator here, Tess, is 22. This may have to do with how managed children are by their hovering parents until they leave home.