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Have finished reading The Snow Child: A Novel by Eowyn Ivey, an Alaska native. Set in very backwoods Alaska in the 1920s, a middle aged couple arrive to try to realize their dream and to get away from mentally crushing angst about losing their only child in utero. They homestead. He works the land and she takes care of the house and lives in nearly perpetual loneliness and sadness. At times the couple come together in loving accord, but often they do not. One day they build a snow man. Well, a snow girl. The next morning the snow girl is demolished and the mittens and scarf have disappeared. Eventually they spot a small child who darts through the woods (with red mittens and scarf) with her pet fox and barely seems to touch the ground. Is she real? Where does she live? Is she a figment of their imaginations? Anything else I say could ruin the story. It’s a vivid portrayal of the rough homesteading life back then, yet it’s full of love and friendships. And full of the magic of the snow child. A wonderful read by a very gifted author (her first book).

The Barbarian Nurseries: A Novel by Hector Tobar (he’s a writer for the Los Angeles Times). Oh my, what a book. Perhaps more interesting to people who live in the southwest, in those areas that border Mexico where we have a huge influx of illegal immigrants (who want to be called undocumented workers now – they’re that too, but they’re here illegally no matter what you call them). It’s the story of a seemingly wealthy young couple with small children, a high tech husband who isn’t exactly honest with his wife about their money problems, and about the Mexican maid who works for the family. The story is told about all 3 of those people, and oh, what different viewpoints they have. The wife lives in a dream world, isn’t very understanding of any of her hired help. The husband worries and frets about his company’s financial issues, and the maid seethes inside not really wanting to take care of children. They’re all unhappy in some way or another. The wife suddenly pays a company to tear out a very expensive jungle-type back yard and plant a desert-scape that is more suitable to the climate here in Orange County (yes, the books is situated here in OC). She puts it on their joint credit card. The next day the husband takes his staff out to lunch and his credit card is denied. He’s humiliated in front of his employees. He storms home, a huge verbal fight ensues and a physical altercation occurs. The wife takes off with cash and the 6-month old baby, leaving behind her cell phone. The husband storms out and disappears for a few days. The maid is left with no car, no money, and 2 of the 3 children. After 4 days not being able to reach anyone, where every possible thing could go wrong does go wrong, she takes the 2 boys on buses and a train to try to find the grandfather, who lives in downtown L.A. Parts of this book are hilarious funny. Eye-opening. Frustration at all 3 people was the common consensus in our book group. The New York Times wrote: “Tobar . . . vividly and movingly captures the conflict between the immigrant ideal to which America has always aspired and the presiding white culture’s deep ambivalence about the immigrant presence.” ELLE magazine said: [Tobar write about] “race, class, mixed marriage, immigration, servitude, parenting—and raises them up from the fertile narrative soil of Southern California.” The book is a must-read. We all, in our group, thought it was a riveting book.

War Brides by Helen Bryan. I got it as a bargain Kindle book. Liked the idea of the story, but I had difficulty keeping track of the characters. It’s about 5 women from all walks of life who converge in a small country village in England during the middle of WWII. They have numerous trials and tribulations, from relationships to just getting food on the table. The men or boyfriends they’re involved with are also very different, so each person/couple has a different story to tell. There were many, many typo’s and sentence errors in the Kindle version – distracting to be sure. But for a bargain book, I suppose I shouldn’t complain. I felt the editor didn’t do his/her job for this author as the story just didn’t have the cohesiveness I was hoping for. I nearly abandoned the book altogether about half way through, but stuck it out.The author wraps everything up at the end, maybe a bit too neatly, which may not be very realistic.

Trustee from the Toolroom What a book. I was riveted. My friend (and cooking instructor) Tarla Fallgatter recommended this book, and what a treasure it is. I can’t tell you a whole lot about it or I’d be giving away too much of the story. It opens in London, with an ordinary man, with an ordinary wife. He is asked by his sister to help construct a leakproof cement box for her and her husband to take their valuables on an across-the-ocean voyage on a sailboat. They’re planning to move from England to Canada. He does, since he’s a master of constructing small things. Meanwhile, they also ask this childless couple to care for their young daughter for 4 months while they do this traverse-the-ocean thing, and then they’ll have her fly to their new home. Can you guess? They don’t make it, and that’s an integral part of the story too. The husband (and now the new father of his niece) embarks on a journey to – - well, go to the place where the hurricane foundered them. Oh, but there’s so much more to the story. This is written by Nevil Shute (those of you old enough to remember On the Beach, an equally riveting tale from the 1950′s. Shute died in 1960. I highly recommend this book. Try to get it at the library if you can, though there are $10 copies used through the link above, and the Kindle edition is just a bit more. Oh so worth reading!

The Kashmir Shawl: A Novel by Rosie Thomas. (There are lots of other books by the same title, but they’re about shawls, not a novel.) In cleaning out their father’s belongings after his death, Mair comes across an incredibly beautiful shawl with a tiny saved lock of blonde hair. The shawl is exquisite. Her grandparents were poor. She knows there must be more to the story. She’s at odds and ends, and decides to retrace her grandparents’ steps when they were missionaries in India around 1940. Part of the story is told from the viewpoint of the granddaughter (Mair) and part from her grandmother (Nerys). There’s a huge cast of characters, but the story is fascinating, particularly since war was raging in Europe, and this couple was sheltered in many ways by being in India and Srinagar. Not quite a page turner, but it’s very interesting. Worth reading for sure. This is a new book.

One of the best stories I’ve read in a really long time – The Light Between Oceans. It’s a real winner. It brings to the forefront some very touchy issues, about decisions one makes, or that two people make, that can have huge repercussions, not just today, tomorrow, next year or a generation from now. The background story involves a relatively remote island off Australia (this takes place before satellites and the internet or cell phones), and a young man goes to work at the lighthouse on this island. Eventually he marries. A good woman, and she willingly goes to live on this remote island too. She miscarries 2 children. Out on this remote island with no help. Then one day a boat washes ashore and there’s a dead man and a tiny baby, who’s alive. I don’t want to ruin any of it. Just read it!

IN THE POWDER ROOM: Our guest half-bath has a little table with a pile of books that I change every now and then. They’re books that might pique someone’s interest even if for a very short read. The Greatest Stories Never Told; and Sara Midda’s South of France; Forgotten Bookmarks: A Bookseller’s Collection of Odd Things Lost Between the Pages (just the cutest book – with a miscellany of things – letters, grocery lists, notes, reminders, confessions the author discovered hidden inside the books he purchased for his used bookstore); and The Trouble with Poetry (Billy Collins).

Tasting Spoons

My blog's namesake - small engraved sterling silver tea spoons that I use to taste as I'm cooking.

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Posted in Books, on June 2nd, 2012.

mfkfisher This is a post about the late M.F.K. Fisher, a renowned food writer of the first order. If you’re not interested in the biographical part, skip down to the bottom and at least read the indented paragraphs, quoted from one of her books, about How To Un-Seduce [a man]. I found the quote very witty.

Some of you who are considerably younger than I may not have ever heard of M.F.K. Fisher. Her full name was Mary Frances Kennedy Fisher, and just “Fisher” to her friends. She was born in 1908 and died in 1992 from Parkinson’s Disease. What she was, was a venerable food writer of a couple of generations back. I own most of her food related books (well, almost all her books are food related but there are some I don’t own and a few that aren’t really essays about food). She was more a writer than a cook, although she certainly was a good cook in her own right. Photo credit unknown.

M.F.K. Fisher didn’t work in restaurants, but wrote books for herself (including an English translation of Brillat-Savarin’s tome), for magazines (both food and travel) and lived in many places around the world – mostly France – before finally, in her later years, settling in Glen Ellen, California (wine country, a few miles north of Sonoma). She was married three times. The first time (Al Fisher) to a man who, some years later, developed intimacy issues (both physical and relationship types, so she was quoted as saying many years later), so when she had an affair with someone else he was hurt, but he couldn’t do or say much about it. She divorced him and married the other man (Dillwyn Parrish). They had many good years together, but while living in France he developed a very debilitating illness and eventually commit suicide in 1941. She wrote more books and some movie dramas. In 1944 she had a child and never revealed the father’s name. Later on she met and after a whirlwind romance married yet another man (Donald Friede), but that marriage didn’t last. She spent the rest of her days without any further husbands, but I suspect she wasn’t lonely for companionship. She continued to write clear into her 80’s. I tried to research anything I could about her daughter, but didn’t find sufficient info.

In the late 1980’s I recall reading an article in one of the food magazines (either Gourmet or Bon Appetit) about Fisher’s retirement. I’d read a couple of her books at that time and really liked her writing style. About then I began looking for her books in used book stores. She writes prose but with a lot of food relationship stories and with lots of food jargon thrown in. Her essays graced the pages of numerous magazines, many of them not food related. Sometimes her essays included a recipe; sometimes not. In any case, as I looked at the 1980’s photos of her in this article, in her charming-looking little house in Glen Ellen, I remember the writer was particularly taken with Fisher, and happily shared a light lunch with her. And particularly how he savored the fresh fruit she served for dessert (one of her favorite things for dessert anytime). I wished that I could have met her – especially since she died just a few years later.

So, you wonder where this story is going? Well, I got an email from one of my readers (thank you, Donna) who told me about a marinade she has used for years, but originally was from M.F.K. Fisher. (More on that in another post – I’m going to have to try it and then I’ll tell that story.)  She told me which book, and I was surprised to find that I did have the book, but had never read it. In doing so – after reading the chapter about the marinade – I kept going. And came across such a hilarious couple of paragraphs I decided I should share it with all of you.

It’s in her book, An Alphabet for Gourmets. Or, if you’re interested in the book, you might try reading the 5 best of M.F.K. Fisher, contained in the compendium The Art of Eating (the other 4 books are: How to Cook a Wolf, Consider the Oyster, Serve it Forth, The Gastronomical Me). Used copies are very inexpensive if you’re so inclined. Anyway, in the Alphabet book she writes in her chapter called W is for Wanton, about the art of using food for seduction. And she tells one story after another, including one about what she would serve if she were trying to seduce a man. But the one that tickled my funny bone was the section about what she would serve to a man if she were trying to stem, or totally deflate desire (she suggests among others to serve kidneys, okra or avocado, for example), or as she suggests the title at the end of it, HOW TO UN-SEDUCE. Here it is:

[This is the preface to this small bit of the essay, which you need to read to set the stage for the paragraphs that follow]: I myself, imagining one man I would like to woo, can easily invent a menu that would floor him like a stunned ox, and turn him, no matter how unwittingly on his part, into a slumberous lump of masculine inactivity. It is based on what I already know of his physical reactions, as any such plan must be.

I would serve one too many martinis, that is, about three. Then while his appetite raged, thus whipped with alcohol, I would have generous, rich, salty Italian hors d’oeuvres: prosciutto, little chilled marinated shrimps, olives stuffed with anchovy, spiced and pickled tomatoes – things that would lead him on. Next would come something he no longer wanted, but could not resist, something like a ragout of venison, or squabs stuffed with mushrooms and wild rice, and plenty of red wine, sure danger after the cocktails and the highly salted appetizers. I would waste no time on a salad, unless perhaps a freakish rich one treacherously containing truffles and new potatoes. The dessert would be cold, superficially refreshing and tempting, but venomous: a chilled bowl of figs soaked in kirsch, with heavy cream. There would be a small bottle of a Sauterne, sly and icy, or a judicious bit of champagne, and then a small cup of coffee so black and bitter that my victim could not down it, even therapeutically.

All of this would be beautiful fare in itself and in another part of time and space. Here and now it would be sure poison – given the right man. I would, to put it mildly, rest inviolate.

What a hideous plan [she writes]. . . . . M.F.K. Fisher in The Alphabet for Gourmets

Can you see why I enjoy reading her words? She had a true gift of writing, a delightful wit, a gift of story-telling, a gift for the turn of phrase and particularly the judicious use of words. Most of the above biographical information about M.F.K. Fisher came from wikipedia. Another source I used (from Harvard University) had some different information, including a different birth date of her daughter which said she was Friede’s. The daughter had several children, so hopefully the author’s gene will have been preserved and will reappear sometime. And again, the image I used at top, obviously one taken at her home in Glen Ellen in her library or maybe her living room, has no credit because I couldn’t find one, although I saw similar images on the web credited to the New York Times. Over the years I’ve learned something about myself – that when I read a book (and enjoy/love it) I’m intrigued with the how and why. How did the author come to write it, why did he/she write it. Where did he/she write it. You know, that kind of thing. So finding the different birth date of her daughter and the fact that her birth certificate did not include Friede’s name was intriguing. More factlets worth pursuing if I were a true researcher. Anyway, to sum up, I’m a great admirer of M.F.K. Fisher and I need to read all of her most well-known books for sure!

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  1. Toffeeapple

    said on June 2nd, 2012:

    I have almost all of her writing on food, I thought she had a terrific style. I seem to recall that, in “Two Towns in Provence”, she had two daughters who loved to be taken to restaurants and cafés for ice-cream. But I have never cooked anything that she has written about!

    I haven’t cooked anything of hers, either, but she sure does know how to tell a great food story! In one of her later books she mentions her “children” not “child” or “daughter” so I wonder if she had another child. In my readings so far I haven’t heard of but one daughter. . . carolyn t

  2. Melynda@MomsSundayCafe

    said on June 2nd, 2012:

    It is really a small world, I work in senior housing and her daughter lives in my building…..http://momssundaycafe.blogspot.com/2010/12/how-to-cook-in-time-of-war.html

    Oh, my gosh. You’re right – what a small world. Where is it you live, Melynda? . . . carolyn t

  3. hddonna

    said on June 3rd, 2012:

    Thanks for a fascinating post, Carolyn! Fisher’s books make wonderful reading. Other than basing my steak marinade on her formula (much altered over the years), I haven’t used her recipes either. I discovered one of her books (With Bold Knife and Fork) at a used book sale when I was in college in the 70s and went on to read–and collect–most of her writings, also.

    Donna – do read the other comment here – another reader of my blog works at a retirement home where Fisher’s daughter currently resides – and she knows her. What a small world! . . . carolyn t

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