>In a new book of essays, Delia Ephron remembers her sister (and frequent collaborator) Nora, who died last year. She also takes on parents and other fraught relationships, including hers with N.Y.C.’s bakeries.
Did writing help with your grief?
I’ve always used writing to figure out things. I was dealing not just with Nora’s death but with the public response. One day my doorbell rang—a total stranger says, “I was with your sister in group [therapy].”
You were collaborators—and competitors.
My first memory of us is her biting a tomato and squirting my eye. Sibling rivalry, is it ever not there?
Did that change as she became more famous?
What do you mean she was more famous? I’m kidding. My life was bigger because of Nora. We were well-matched. We borrowed lines the way other sisters borrow dresses.
You admit to a bakery obsession. Your take on the Cronut?
I stood in line at 7:30 a.m. Okay: I did not like the Cronut. But the Cronut is not just a pastry, it’s a punch line. That, to me, is quite remarkable.