by Gabrielle Hamilton
The author recounts her life, both personal and professional, from growing up in a large tight-knit family with a French mother who taught her kids about real food, crusty bread, creamy cheeses, and the like, through the parents’ divorce and Hamilton’s rise from thirteen-year-old waitress to line cook to chef. She also discusses her marriage of convenience to an Italian man and her trips to Italy, which grow more bittersweet with every year.
I have mixed feelings about this book, because as a reader I take the narrator’s tone very personally; other readers might not. At first, I enjoyed the book with unalloyed pleasure. I got the title from a list of food writing Anthony Bourdain recommended, and it’s easy to see why the book appeals to him. Hamilton is an unflinchingly honest narrator, and a brilliant writer. She matches Bourdain's opinionated partisanship, visceral attitude, and past replete with scofflaw delinquency, and, I dare say, her writing is more fluid and expansive. Her commentary on the value of hard work, making one’s own way, and dealing with hardships is admirable. Her opinion of the perennial hand-wringing over “where are women in cooking” question has a steely practicality and impatience for attention seekers (“cook, ladies, cook!” – and the rest will follow). But it’s her section on her marriage that marred the book for me. Just as I couldn’t stand the fictional Jane Eyre’s dithering and self-pity, I can’t stand the real-life Hamilton’s dithering and solemnity about her unhappy marriage. She knew she was marrying him “as performance art,” as she puts it several times (to get him his Green Card actually). She’s unhappy, yet she won’t leave him. Only a complete ignorant fool – which she is not – would think that marrying a doctor means that you’re marrying a good husband, or that an Italian man is somehow a good or exciting man. So it may be because of my own life, which this book hits too close to the bone, but I just soured on Hamilton as a person and narrator after that. Too bad really; she writes vividly and has a good story to tell. I just want to hear the professional part.
four stars
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Thursday, October 24, 2013
The Nasty Bits: Collected Varietal Cuts, Usable Trim, Scraps, and Bones
by Anthony Bourdain
Just what it says on the cover, a collection of previously published pieces of food, chefs, travel, and cultural commentary (plus one fiction piece). I’m a Bourdain fan, but most of these essays are simply too short to have any real impact. That’s not to say they’re not bad; they have his trademark snide remarks, the New York swagger tempered by open-minded desire to learn more about others. In a magazine I’m sure they’re fine. But, for example, a mere three printed pages on Bourdain’s first taste of Szechuan food is nearly pointless; he barely begins to describe the taste before the essay is over. A lengthy examination of Brazilian food and culture demonstrates how much more powerful his travel writing can be when he has room (on the page) to explore. This edition had some commentary by Bourdain on his own pieces since their publication; some of his opinions have changed, and it’s fun to read him mocking his old self as briskly as he used to mock TV chefs.
three stars
Just what it says on the cover, a collection of previously published pieces of food, chefs, travel, and cultural commentary (plus one fiction piece). I’m a Bourdain fan, but most of these essays are simply too short to have any real impact. That’s not to say they’re not bad; they have his trademark snide remarks, the New York swagger tempered by open-minded desire to learn more about others. In a magazine I’m sure they’re fine. But, for example, a mere three printed pages on Bourdain’s first taste of Szechuan food is nearly pointless; he barely begins to describe the taste before the essay is over. A lengthy examination of Brazilian food and culture demonstrates how much more powerful his travel writing can be when he has room (on the page) to explore. This edition had some commentary by Bourdain on his own pieces since their publication; some of his opinions have changed, and it’s fun to read him mocking his old self as briskly as he used to mock TV chefs.
three stars
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
A Cook's Tour: Global Adventures in Extreme Cuisines
by Anthony Bourdain
The star chef, given a TV show after his book becomes a hit, goes on a globe-trotting tour in search of the best local cuisines have to offer, attending feasts (and getting quite drunk) in Basque country, off the beaten track on Vietnam, Cambodia, coastal France, Spain, Portugal, Japan, Scotland and at fine restaurants in San Francisco. Like his previous book, it’s a very well-written, wry, intelligent, witty look at food and culture. The chapters on Vietnam, veering from hedonistic overdose to near shock at the squalor there, are particularly compelling reading, as is the account of having a whole lamb cooked by Tuaregs, with a “sensational, delicious, delightful” testicle as the crown jewel, as it were, in Morocco.
From a decadent and orgiastic taster’s menu at the French Laundry in San Francisco to the infamous “evil”-tasting cobra bile he manfully swallows in Vietnam (“this will make you the strongest”), Bordain savors all he can get out of life. Brash and opinionated, he shares his iconoclastic views with relish, whether praising “bad boy” Gordon Ramsay (whom Bordain admires as a chef and a hard worker) or deprecating a vegan meal in the harshest terms (“the knife work was clumsy and inept… the vegetables were uniformly overcooked, under-seasoned, colorless, and abused”). Bourdain is more than a food writer; he’s got the travel writer’s deft touch, bringing the essentials of a culture and people to the surface without a lot of purple prose or soul-searching. A very enjoyable, terrific armchair journey.
four stars
[read twice: 6/25/02, 12/5/12]
The star chef, given a TV show after his book becomes a hit, goes on a globe-trotting tour in search of the best local cuisines have to offer, attending feasts (and getting quite drunk) in Basque country, off the beaten track on Vietnam, Cambodia, coastal France, Spain, Portugal, Japan, Scotland and at fine restaurants in San Francisco. Like his previous book, it’s a very well-written, wry, intelligent, witty look at food and culture. The chapters on Vietnam, veering from hedonistic overdose to near shock at the squalor there, are particularly compelling reading, as is the account of having a whole lamb cooked by Tuaregs, with a “sensational, delicious, delightful” testicle as the crown jewel, as it were, in Morocco.
From a decadent and orgiastic taster’s menu at the French Laundry in San Francisco to the infamous “evil”-tasting cobra bile he manfully swallows in Vietnam (“this will make you the strongest”), Bordain savors all he can get out of life. Brash and opinionated, he shares his iconoclastic views with relish, whether praising “bad boy” Gordon Ramsay (whom Bordain admires as a chef and a hard worker) or deprecating a vegan meal in the harshest terms (“the knife work was clumsy and inept… the vegetables were uniformly overcooked, under-seasoned, colorless, and abused”). Bourdain is more than a food writer; he’s got the travel writer’s deft touch, bringing the essentials of a culture and people to the surface without a lot of purple prose or soul-searching. A very enjoyable, terrific armchair journey.
four stars
[read twice: 6/25/02, 12/5/12]
Monday, August 20, 2012
An Economist Gets Lunch: New Rules for Everyday Foodies
by Tyler Cowen
The author, a professor of economics, writes about everything food-related, from “how American food got bad” (answer: Prohibition, watered-down immigrant food, the modern mania for catering to kids’ tastes) to eating great barbecue, from the delusion of the locavore movement to how to shop astutely at small groceries, from tips on finding a great restaurant (answer: find a hole in the wall with low overhead and loyal customers) to why Mexican food tastes better in Mexico (answer: America’s ingredients are fresher and safer but perforce blander due to transport, regulations and freezing; Mexico’s cheeses are richer and unpasteurized so banned in the USA).
I enjoyed this book, some sections more than others. His long chapter on barbecue covered some very old ground gone over years ago by Calvin Trillin; his “finding great food anywhere” section is disappointingly vague (London is expensive if you’re not eating fish and chips; you can get good ingredients in Germany thanks to the EU). The chapter on Mexican food, with its discussion of Mexican traditions of dry aging (again, largely considered unsafe in the USA) and fresh though limited ingredients, was highly informative. And although I’m not sure his claim that Prohibition hit American dining so hard is still valid today, he makes a thought-provoking case about American blandness. Despite the title, much of this book might have been written by anyone who enjoys food and travels a lot. That’s too bad, because Cowen is most interesting when he uses economic arguments. For example, he makes a case for GMOs (which lower overall food prices); attacks the locavore movement by noting that food transport costs are very low and what would really help the planet would be eating less meat, not fewer French cheeses; suggests that eating sardines has ecological value because they are at the bottom of the food chain; and advocates the spread of modern agribusiness giants to combat starvation. I don’t agree with it all, but it’s always interesting to see things from a new angle. I would have liked to have read less of Cowen’s salivating over barbecue and more economic analysis of the politics of food.
three stars
The author, a professor of economics, writes about everything food-related, from “how American food got bad” (answer: Prohibition, watered-down immigrant food, the modern mania for catering to kids’ tastes) to eating great barbecue, from the delusion of the locavore movement to how to shop astutely at small groceries, from tips on finding a great restaurant (answer: find a hole in the wall with low overhead and loyal customers) to why Mexican food tastes better in Mexico (answer: America’s ingredients are fresher and safer but perforce blander due to transport, regulations and freezing; Mexico’s cheeses are richer and unpasteurized so banned in the USA).
I enjoyed this book, some sections more than others. His long chapter on barbecue covered some very old ground gone over years ago by Calvin Trillin; his “finding great food anywhere” section is disappointingly vague (London is expensive if you’re not eating fish and chips; you can get good ingredients in Germany thanks to the EU). The chapter on Mexican food, with its discussion of Mexican traditions of dry aging (again, largely considered unsafe in the USA) and fresh though limited ingredients, was highly informative. And although I’m not sure his claim that Prohibition hit American dining so hard is still valid today, he makes a thought-provoking case about American blandness. Despite the title, much of this book might have been written by anyone who enjoys food and travels a lot. That’s too bad, because Cowen is most interesting when he uses economic arguments. For example, he makes a case for GMOs (which lower overall food prices); attacks the locavore movement by noting that food transport costs are very low and what would really help the planet would be eating less meat, not fewer French cheeses; suggests that eating sardines has ecological value because they are at the bottom of the food chain; and advocates the spread of modern agribusiness giants to combat starvation. I don’t agree with it all, but it’s always interesting to see things from a new angle. I would have liked to have read less of Cowen’s salivating over barbecue and more economic analysis of the politics of food.
three stars
Friday, October 24, 2008
Julie and Julia: 365 Days, 524 Recipes, 1 Tiny Apartment Kitchen
by Julie Powell
A book born of a blog, in which the author, a temp from Long Island, challenges herself to make every recipe in Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking. It’s an interesting idea and Powell has some writing chops, but I was turned off by the excessive melodrama.
I don’t know if Powell exaggerated the ridiculous amount of opposition and dismay that her mother and others reacted with when they heard about this harmless, fun, silly little project, but I hope so. I hope she made up, for the sake of drama, all the tear-stained hysteria that Powell engaged in many, many times over the year. If not, both Powell and her mother have serious mental problems. At times I was amused by the book, but never fascinated, and often irritated by Powell and her friends.
two stars
A book born of a blog, in which the author, a temp from Long Island, challenges herself to make every recipe in Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking. It’s an interesting idea and Powell has some writing chops, but I was turned off by the excessive melodrama.
I don’t know if Powell exaggerated the ridiculous amount of opposition and dismay that her mother and others reacted with when they heard about this harmless, fun, silly little project, but I hope so. I hope she made up, for the sake of drama, all the tear-stained hysteria that Powell engaged in many, many times over the year. If not, both Powell and her mother have serious mental problems. At times I was amused by the book, but never fascinated, and often irritated by Powell and her friends.
two stars
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life
by Barbara Kingsolver
The author and her family move to a house in the southern Appalachians with a bit of land and embark on a year of eating as locavores. With a few exceptions, they eat only things that originate within 100 miles of their farm. Much of their meat and produce is grown themselves, and they make a point of knowing the origins of the other items.
It’s a bit heavy on the preaching (especially the brief fact boxes from Steven Hopp, Kingsolver’s husband), but then, this is a topic very easy to get worked up about, and it makes for fascinating reading regardless. There’s a vast wealth of common-sense information here backed up with facts and figures, about the use of fossil fuels to transport food, the way food factories are destroying America’s health at the taxpayer’s expense, how a disconnect between the making of food and the eating of food is connected to America’s fear of food and obesity epidemic, and so forth. It really is a persuasive, important book, every page a reminder of how corporations crush small business and sell us fetid garbage made cheap through subsidies. I read it wishing everyone in America would read it and take its crucial messages to heart. Not everyone needs to be a locavore, but everyone ought, at the very least, understand where food comes from and the benefits of eating sustainable, humane, farm food.
four stars
The author and her family move to a house in the southern Appalachians with a bit of land and embark on a year of eating as locavores. With a few exceptions, they eat only things that originate within 100 miles of their farm. Much of their meat and produce is grown themselves, and they make a point of knowing the origins of the other items.
It’s a bit heavy on the preaching (especially the brief fact boxes from Steven Hopp, Kingsolver’s husband), but then, this is a topic very easy to get worked up about, and it makes for fascinating reading regardless. There’s a vast wealth of common-sense information here backed up with facts and figures, about the use of fossil fuels to transport food, the way food factories are destroying America’s health at the taxpayer’s expense, how a disconnect between the making of food and the eating of food is connected to America’s fear of food and obesity epidemic, and so forth. It really is a persuasive, important book, every page a reminder of how corporations crush small business and sell us fetid garbage made cheap through subsidies. I read it wishing everyone in America would read it and take its crucial messages to heart. Not everyone needs to be a locavore, but everyone ought, at the very least, understand where food comes from and the benefits of eating sustainable, humane, farm food.
four stars
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