I loved Frances Mayes' first bestseller, Under the Tuscan Sun. I really liked her sequel, Bella Tuscany. Subtract the tedious sections where Mayes seems to be filling space and giving readers an unsolicited art-history course and I can truthfully say I enjoyed but didn't love her newest non-fiction book of travel and food writing, Every Day in Tuscany: Seasons of an Italian Life.
Unlike the two previous works, this book focuses less on the house Mayes and her husband, Ed, have restored and much more on the Italian way of eating -- meaning the slow-food movement was in Italy long before the movement was invented. Not only slow-food, but slow-eating, too. Mayes speaks of five-hour dinners mingled with family, friends and casual acquaintances, fresh but simple food galore and enough conversation and laughter to keep a talk-show host entertained. Food is first. Work is second. Dinners and lunches with friends and friends are not something relegated to the 1950s or to celebrity cooks like Bobby Flay and Ina Garten. As Mayes tells it, such feasts are a staple of life in Tuscany.
This book gives a bigger presence to Mayes' family -- her writer husband; her grandson Willie, a little boy with an adventuresome palate; and her daughter -- not to mention her friends and even a few unidentified enemies. The house, effectively the main character of Frances Mayes' previous books, takes on a supporting role in this work. I don't think her previous books ever stated she was married to Mayes. This one makes it clear.
Mayes' latest work also explores her fascination with the Italian artist Signorelli. I love art and art literature but did not find Mayes to be the best story-teller when it comes to this subject. In fact, her chapters that focused on Signorelli's works and life were downright boring at times.
Some of Mayes' words seem self-contradictory. She questions whether there's a hereafter and doesn't come off as particularly religious. Yet, she seeks comfort in lighting candles in a cathedral. Is it the place, the ritual or the intangible beliefs these things represent to her?
I enjoy the book and recommend it to Mayes' fans. But they shouldn't expect a memoir of the same quality as Under the Tuscan Sun. They can expect some more good recipes, though, and another taste of Tuscany.
Showing posts with label Food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Food. Show all posts
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Monday, November 30, 2009
Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life by Barbara Kingsolver
Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life is a wonderful account of her family's efforts to live off local food for one year. The book is both a story of that endeavor and a bit of Kingsolver's always well-researched reporting, this time aided by her husband and college-age daughter.
This work of creative nonfiction gave me a greater appreciation for the need to eat locally grown and raised food whenever possible -- or at least much more than I do now. Kingsolver isn't overly preachy and is reasonable in her expectations of herself and others. She does not deprive her children, for example, of boxed mac 'n' cheese or herself of coffee, but she resists far more foods -- bananas despite a guest's temptation and imported asparagus which she grows in her own back yard.
The book made me want to get busy ordering seeds and other produce to grow in my own yard. It also prompted me to get out an old yet very UN-worn copy of Deborah Madison's cookbook, Local Flavors, as Kingsolver's book references Madison's work quite often. Other authors referenced include Wendell Berry and, of course, culinary great Alice Waters whom I was privileged to talk with in 2002 at where else but a farmers' market. (Try the rhubard compote recipe in Waters' tome on fruits.)
The best writing in Kingsolver's book, in my view, is not by Barbara Kingsolver but by daughter Camille Kingsolver. I do not know if Camille aspires to do more writing, but she writes in a clear, interesting and readable way.
This self-experiment of sorts -- living almost exclusively on local food -- was a superb idea for a book. It was also interesting to get to know Barbara Kingsolver's family -- her husband and two daughters, especially 9-year-old egg merchant Lily. Read the book to see what I mean by "egg merchant."
This book comes with a few recipes and is a keeper.
This work of creative nonfiction gave me a greater appreciation for the need to eat locally grown and raised food whenever possible -- or at least much more than I do now. Kingsolver isn't overly preachy and is reasonable in her expectations of herself and others. She does not deprive her children, for example, of boxed mac 'n' cheese or herself of coffee, but she resists far more foods -- bananas despite a guest's temptation and imported asparagus which she grows in her own back yard.
The book made me want to get busy ordering seeds and other produce to grow in my own yard. It also prompted me to get out an old yet very UN-worn copy of Deborah Madison's cookbook, Local Flavors, as Kingsolver's book references Madison's work quite often. Other authors referenced include Wendell Berry and, of course, culinary great Alice Waters whom I was privileged to talk with in 2002 at where else but a farmers' market. (Try the rhubard compote recipe in Waters' tome on fruits.)
The best writing in Kingsolver's book, in my view, is not by Barbara Kingsolver but by daughter Camille Kingsolver. I do not know if Camille aspires to do more writing, but she writes in a clear, interesting and readable way.
This self-experiment of sorts -- living almost exclusively on local food -- was a superb idea for a book. It was also interesting to get to know Barbara Kingsolver's family -- her husband and two daughters, especially 9-year-old egg merchant Lily. Read the book to see what I mean by "egg merchant."
This book comes with a few recipes and is a keeper.
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