Enter the Librarian, a review by Josh HanagarneKitchens of the Great Midwest by J. Ryan StradalI gre
Enter the Librarian, a review by Josh HanagarneKitchens of the Great Midwest by J. Ryan StradalI grew up feeling like I didn’t understand food. Not only that I didn’t know how to cook it, but I felt like I didn’t even know how to eat it. My family loved eating more than anything. Each of them had a specific dish for a best friend. The relationships were intense and oft-scrutinized. They enjoyed every bite more than I could enjoy anything. My best friend wasn’t a sandwich or a gumbo. He was a boy named Travis, and my primary reason for eating was so I didn’t die. Not much has changed these days, except that I’ve read a book that makes me want to learn how to cook: J. Ryan Stradal’s Kitchens of the Great Midwest. The descriptions of food reminded me of The Debt to Pleasure by John Lanchester, but without the sociopathic gourmand. The included recipes reminded me of my grandma’s bookshelves. Most of her favorite novels were mysteries that included quilting patterns and recipes for various custards. But Kitchens is completely original. There is nothing derivative about its story, style, characters, or humor. I can truly say it’s one of the nicest surprises I’ve had while reading a book. If I say, “How’s this sound? There’s a story about love and there’s some food and cooking in it,” would your engine start revving? Maybe. Maybe not. Mine didn’t. It sounds like it could be similar to plenty of other books. But wow, it’s not. Every chapter focuses on a different character and a different dish. I’ve read books where there are too many characters who receive too little treatment and as a result I wind up not loving or knowing or hating any of them as much as I’m supposed to. But that’s not the case here. Stradal understands how to develop characters. To endear them to us or repulse us by their smallest words and actions. He absolutely understands what it means to be a horny teenage boy. And a frustrated father who worries that he might not be measuring up. The tormented inner life of a man trying to date again after the loss of his wife. The petty jealousies of someone lovely who recoils when losing someone’s affections to a less attractive woman. It’s about many different people and their relationships and the wonderful and awful things we can do to one another. It was uncomfortably familiar, and also a celebration of how we can all do the right thing sometimes, even if sometimes it happens by accident. And it’s funny! Far and away, this was my favorite part of the book. It is so funny. It’s not a relentless, desperately quirky gag reel of a book. It’s easy enough to populate pages with a bunch of quirky weirdos, and Minnesota has been a target for writers who want to craft idiosyncratic oddballs. But Stradal obviously knows and loves his characters, and they’re far more than comic fodder. My favorite character is a tall, sometimes awkward girl named Eva. By the age of ten she is a brilliant cook. Early in the book bullies dare each other to kiss her, even offering money for whomever has the “courage” to do so. She responds by whipping up an impossibly hot sauce, holding it in her mouth, and spitting it into one of their faces when he tries to kiss her the next time. It might be the only time I’ve actually cheered out loud when something happened in a book. I was sitting in an empty room when it happened. I think part of it is because Eva reminded me of my food-wild family. But every character resonated with me. Every single one of them made me nod at some point and think, “Yes, people are like that. I can be like that.” Kitchens of the Great Midwest is a treasure. I hope you’ll give it a try. Also, I have no plans on learning how to cook. The phase passed quickly. But I am recommitting to begging someone to make the recipes in this book for me. -- source link
#penguin usa#penguin books