I'm an almost 60-year-old almost hippie who has succeeded in eating my way through life and living my wandering years vicariously through the works and travels of those who actually did what I always dreamed of doing. Now, with that said, I approached Nancy Mehagian's book, Siren's Feast, with my mouth watering for some new and exciting tasty delights. And then Nancy introduced me to her late teenage hippie wandering Armenian soul, and I fell in love with her. She took me all over the mysterious and captivating world of Marrakech and New Delhi and the back hashish-filled streets of Kathmandu of 1970. We spoke of the world we saw without problems and ate deliriously spicy foods in places I never dreamed of entering. We got thrown in jail for smuggling drugs, got pregnant, had many illnesses, traveled even more, rebelled against society and the world and our parents and became one with the universe. Then we ate some more. By the way, I never left my armchair—almost as old as I am. But she took me there nonetheless. I never saw so much and so little of an author in a book as I saw of Nancy. She doesn't talk about the foods and the places; she took me there. Now I have recipes to prove I've been there—vicariously or not. What a wonderful journey.