Category Archives: Food
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The year saw few books on food. Quite a surprise, considering the ardent foodie that I am. Maybe it has to do with the amount of baking that I did last year. It might have been an overkill. But, read I did, a few. The aroma of bread baking in your oven must be one of the most heavenly ones that you could ever experience. No wonder then that Barbara O’Neal’s ‘How to Bake a Perfect Life‘ found a place on the list. A simple, heart warming story of a single mother, this is an easy and pleasant read. Perfect for a winter afternoon or a rainy evening.
‘A Homemade Life: Stories and Recipes from My Kitchen Table‘ by Molly Wizenberg was the next on the list. Another one that I would recommend only if you are a foodie. I loved it, by the way.
I’ve always been envious of restaurant reviewers and critics. The amount of free and scrumptious dishes that they get to taste and the way they write about it so authoritatively leaves me wondering at the kind of life they lead. The fact that many of them still look fit and lean in spite of all the gourmet food confounds me no end. Frank Bruni’s ‘Born Round: The Secret History of a Full-time Eater‘ was an eye opener in many aspects. This was a four star one on my scale.
As each book of 2014 flashes by in my thoughts, I realize this was an year I turned a book infidel. Margaret Atwood is the only author who was lucky enough to pass through the hands more than once. The year also showed me that an author being a favorite is no guarantee for your liking their books. Sue Monk Kidd turned a favourite last year after ‘The Secret Life of Bees‘. Less than 4 months after reading her ‘The Mermaid Chair‘ , I don’t remember a thing about the story. Never take anyone for granted, authors including. Even Atwood let me down, ‘Wilderness Tips‘ left me bewildered. Markus Zusak was the next one in line. While his ‘Book Thief‘ stole my heart the year before, there was no message for me in his ‘I Am the Messenger.‘
The best part of having book lovers for friends are the new authors and genres that you get introduced to. And when they come in a group, that’s the biggest blessing a wannabe bibliophile could ask for. Some of the best reads of the year reached me through these kindred souls. It was from Maya that I first heard of ‘Infidel.‘ Promptly bought, the book stayed in the shelf staring at me for more than a few months. But, there was no stopping once it was opened. Some say half of it is made up. Even if the the other half is true, it’s too gruesome a tale to believe, it has to have happened. And I respect the spirit of Ayaan Hirsi Ali to have not only escaped a prison but also to fight for women like her.
Call me a cynic or even an old hag, books with the tag of ‘Young Adult’ are one of the few things that I run miles away from. And I have to thank my business consultant friend who made me pick up ‘The Fault In Our Stars.‘ Yes, it is a typical teenage love story with a Bollywood type illness thrown in for good measure. It also taught me not to be prejudiced, that young does not mean immature. It was again the same friend who prodded me towards another gentle and enchanting story, ‘The Housekeeper and the Professor.‘ A brilliant maths professor with a short memory span of eighty minutes, a single mother who is trying hard to make both ends meet and her bright 10 year old boy, this is one read that will leave you with a feeling of ‘all’s well with the world.’
History and war were anathema to me until I got to know this oil man. Carlotta Gall has written in detail about the war in Afganistan, the origin of Taliban and how Pakistan has abetted it silently and otherwise in her ‘The Wrong Enemy : America in Afghanistan, 2001 – 2014.‘ The war stories continued with Samanth Subramanian’s ‘ This Divided Island: Stories from the Sri Lankan War.‘ An unbiased view of what happens to normal human beings in a war that may or may not be theirs is written in a down to earth manner. Hope seems too far away as the author leaves you with these words,
“In the wretchedness stakes of post-war Sri Lanka, there was always somebody worse off. Even hitting rock bottom was difficult because it was so thickly carpeted by the dead.”
Some of the much touted ones left the reader in me disappointed. Neither the story nor the style could hold my interest whether it was Tina Fey’s ‘Bossypants‘ or Sidin Vadukut’s ‘The Sceptical Patriot‘.
As in food, I turn adventurous with books also. Sometimes, it is the title that calls out to me, while at other times it could be the blurb. This habit has led me to some treasures and to some disappointments as well. The one that I loved in this group is Jonas Jonasson’s ‘ The Hundred-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out of the Window and Disappeared‘. The story is as outrageous as the title. A sprightly centenarian who was instrumental in inventing the atom bomb, was friends with Truman, Franco, Mao and Nixon, not to mention some higher ups in KGB, and then decides to run away from the old age home on his hundredth birthday. What follows is equally hilarious. A suitcase full of money, a dead body and an elephant. This one was a riot. One that totally disappointed in spite of a promising start was ‘The Peculiar Life of a Lonely Postman‘ by Denis Theriault.
I finally read an Anees Salim book in the last month of the year, ‘Vanity Bagh‘. Maybe the expectation was so high, that it had to be a disappointment. Loved the language and the images, especially of Vanity Bagh which in itself is a character, but there was this nagging feeling of missing that special something. Shashi Tharoor did not disappoint with his short essays on reading, writing, books and authors with his ‘Bookless in Baghdad: Reflections on Writings and Writers‘, though I have to admit a few chapters were beyond my comprehension.
And now, for the book of the year. If I were asked to choose one from the eighty plus that were covered during the year, without a second thought it has to be ‘Aarachar‘ by K.R.Meera. Set in Kolkata, this is the story of Chetna Mallick, last in the line of a family of hangmen, with a lineage of more than 400 years. Meera’s women were always a class apart. Chetna is no different. Courageously moving into a role that was till then reserved for men who were strong in character and build, she is fearless and practical. Interspersed with history, Kolkata comes to life in front of your eyes as does its characters. The story also brings out the shallow world of media, of which the author herself was a part of. Meera is easily one of the best writers in India today. It is indeed a pity that she and her works are rarely known out of Kerala. ‘Hang Woman,’ an English translation by J. Devika is now available.
2014 has also been an year in which the reader in me slowly started shifting focus to non-fiction. The New Year has also started with the same genre. As I wander through Psyche Abraham’s ‘From Kippers to Karimeen‘ I realize again, life is indeed far more interesting than fiction. But then, doesn’t fiction grow out of life?
After ‘Don’t Ask Any Old Bloke for Directions’, I went on a downloading spree of biking books. Started with this one, the main reason was the ‘Himalayas’ in the name. Mountains have always fascinated me. Coming from a place where the land is flat and below sea level to boot, the first sight of mountains was pure awe. The hills of Idukki paled in comparison to the Snow Lord’s abode is something that I realized a few years later. Since then, Leh, Ladakh and The Valley of Flowers have been beckoning from far.
Coming back to the book, the author, in his mid fifties, decides to go on a trip of his dreams, all alone. Based out of Pune, he first makes a trip to Goa, to attune himself and his bike to the long and arduous trip later.
The book goes in a somewhat documentary style, describing places and people that he meets on the way, adding his thoughts to it. A couple of incidents, or rather people caught my heart. The first one was a fakir , a true one, cycling his way to Mecca from Mumbai. At times, profound thoughts turn into words and comes from least expected sources. To the author’s question of how long it takes to reach Mecca, the wise man replies,
“Sirf badan ko wahan le jaana hai.
Rooh to wahin rahtee hai.” *
The part that stays with me is his meeting with the jawans in Kashmir. There is one incident where the author is frightened by a group of young men rushing at him, only to realize they were soldiers from the Maratha regiment and they had run to him seeing the MH number plate on his bike. They take him to their barracks and he realizes as he talks to them,
“The moment to moment stress is taking its toll. They try to camouflage it by an outward show of bravado but these young men, so far away from their homes, standing around me, look like lonely children marooned in a dangerous world.”
The longing for home, the need to talk to someone, the catch in their throats, the knowledge that this might be their last day, and the feeling of not knowing whom you can trust keep resonating in your heart long after you’re done reading . I was left with a feeling of guilt and despair at the world that we so take for granted.
Otherwise, the narration seemed quite ordinary in most places. Not one that tugged at my heart.
Verdict – A light read, may delight if you are interested in travel, not so much for a bike enthusiast.
3/5 for the story and narration and 5/5 for those encounters with the jawans.
(* He was merely transporting his body to where his soul already lived)
“Out of such simple ingredients – only flour and salt and wild yeast and fresh water – comes the miraculous holiness of bread”
Friends and family know what an absolute foodie I am. Baking has become not just a passion but an obsession in the past few years. Forget about others, even I was shocked that the cakes, cookies and breads that come out of my kitchen these days are at par to those you get from your patisseries. Yes, you guessed it right, modesty is one of my biggest virtues, indeed 😉
Have you ever been enticed into a shop by that most heavenly of all smells, that of baking bread? It was with trepidation that I started my first bread a year or so ago. As expected, the first few were near disasters. Then the dough started responding to the love that my palms were beating into it. There’s been no looking back since then. The process is one of the best therapeutic sessions you could think of and the smell of freshly baked bread is the most inviting of all. It was little wonder then that seconds after reading through the blurb, the book was on my Kindle.
Ramona Gallagher is expecting her first grandchild. A single mother at 15, her daughter Sofia is the center of her life along with the boulangerie that she runs out of a Victorian house that was her grandmother’s. With Sofia’s soldier husband fighting for his life and her business under threat of closing down, her life seem to be on the verge of breaking down, again. If that was not enough, Katie, her daughter Sofia’s step daughter has come to stay with her.
An unexpected teenage pregnancy alienated Ramona from almost everyone in her family. Bread making comes to her rescue first as she is banished to her aunt Poppy’s house to give birth to her child. As the yeast ferments, loosens up and raises the dough to a delicious, soft and fluffy bread, she comes to term with the restless and rioting emotions that was raging within her. As the author quotes from ‘The Art of Eating’ by M.F.K. Fisher, Ramona learns something that will keep her steady through life’s twists and turns.
“Breadmaking is one of those almost hypnotic businesses, like a dance from some ancient ceremony. It leaves you filled with one of the world’s sweetest smells…there is no chiropractic treatment…no hour of meditation in a music-throbbing chapel that will leave you emptier of bad thoughts than this homely ceremony of making bread.”
She goes back to her family with her baby who captures their hearts instantly. After a divorce that further shatters her relationship with her already embittered family, Ramona finds herself in her grandmother’s house that was bequeathed to her. Struggling to keep her business afloat, she now finds herself with the additional responsibility of an emotionally crushed teenager and her dog. As she tries to sort out Katie’s life, Ramona also comes to terms with her life – past and present – and her family.
A delightful read, I would say. The author has excelled in portraying the details, you get the essence of the places and people quite clearly, you can almost smell the bread baking in the ovens, the early morning busy feeling in the kitchen, the bread on the shelves that are brown, soft and inviting, it is as if you are an invisible presence there.
What pulled me back was the almost predictable storyline, it was as if I was reading an evolved and sophisticated Mills & Boon story. Like a perfect dough, all the ingredients for a happy life are thrown in the right proportions, with some failures in between to churn out the perfect piece of bread. Hence the title, maybe. The pieces fit too perfectly, including a perfect boy friend 🙂
Verdict : A must read, if you love baking bread. If you are someone who loves warm stories with good people and happy endings, go for it. In case you normally read serious stuff and need a break in between, pick it up…. only if you love the art of baking or even eating