Paltrow created a scene when she showed up at the East Hampton Library with rocker husband, Chris Martin, frontman for English band Coldplay, her children Apple and Moses and two massive bodyguards.
Author Jay McInerney took a barbed jab, by writing on Twitter afterward: “Author’s night at East Hampton Library highjacked by movie stars with ghost-written cookbooks.”
He was referring to a controversy last year caused by Julia Turshen, a chef and cookbook ghostwriter.
Turshen claimed that most chefs and celebrities, including Paltrow, aren’t overly involved in writing their cookbooks, according to Celebrity Health & Fitness, which follows celebrity health, diet and fitness trends.
“Many real-world cooks have wondered at the output of authors like Martha Stewart, Paula Deen and Jamie Oliver, who maintain cookbook production schedules that boggle the mind,” she wrote in a first person account in The New York Times.
“Rachael Ray alone has published thousands of recipes in her cookbooks and magazine since 2005. How, you might ask, do they do it?”
“The answer: they don’t. The days when a celebrated chef might wait until the end of a distinguished career and spend years polishing the prose of the single volume that would represent his life’s work are gone.”
But you wouldn’t know it by the number of fans crowding around Paltrow’s table, which she shared with Christina Oxenberg, who’s not unaccustomed to privilege herself.
Oxenberg, an author of several works of fiction, is the second daughter of Princess Elizabeth of Yugoslavia, and sister of former “Dynasty” star Catherine Oxenberg.
Paltrow was hawking her vegan cookbook “It’s All Good,” while Oxenberg was signing copies of her own book, “Life is Short,” which could have been an apt description of the event.
Oxenberg provided a deliciously wicked description of the night on her blog.
“Slowly yet unmistakably a line began to form in front of my section of table. These folks were hushed and reverential and had a particularly earnest and focused demeanor and casting furtive eyes around, clearly single minded and clearly without any interest in yours truly. Unless you count the increasingly urgent question they posed, “Where is Gwyneth?”
Oxenberg writes that she finally had to duck away. She walked around the tent plotting her revenge. She found it when she found the food table… “and suddenly I knew what needed doing. I made a plate of miniature sloppy hamburgers, stinky steak sandwiches, and the like and hauled it back to my piece of table.”
That’s when Paltrow’s attentive bodyguards sprang into action. They blocked Oxenberg from returning to her own seat at the table. “So I was forced to crawl under the table. And there I sat with my meat products, wafting the excellent smells toward my sleek vegan neighbor.”
Paltrow never deigned to introduce herself or say “hello,” the author wrote.