Come to New York, spend all kinds of money on books. Never fails. So stinking predictable. It begins at Spoonbill & Sugartown, about as well curated a shop as you’re likely to find. And then there’s always a trip to Strand, home of a gabillion canvas bags and currently (and somewhat suspiciously) a couple used copies of this. But the doozer is a tiny storefront in the West Village called Left Bank Books, where today I picked up a gorgeous first edition of Ratner’s Star. Which means I guess I just won’t eat for a few days.