Saturday, February 4, 2012

Thought For Food

"The sun poured down like honey." I cringed when I read it. "So-and-so smoked like a chimney stack." Surely there was a less trite metaphor. Why not..I don't know...something else. "So-and-so smoked like the engine of a '86 Ford" perhaps. Within the first couple of chapters more than one character had a voice that was described as "brittle." And yet, Ruth Reichl can write about food like no one else. Garlic And Sapphires is a memoir of her life as the food critic of The New York Times in the '90s. I knew that in order to really enjoy her voice I must stop being so pedantic. And so I did.

I remember The New York Times of twenty-five years ago. It was a wonderful paper and I looked forward to getting the Sunday edition delivered nice and crisp every week. It was my goal to read it all the way through, but I don't think I ever accomplished it. And forget the crossword puzzle, which was way above my pay grade. I don't remember whether the food column appeared in the Sunday edition or not. I don't recall whether I ever read it. Not living in New York, what restaurants in the city deserved the coveted "stars" would probably not have interested me. But I enjoyed the paper. Journalistic failures, such as its obvious political leanings and increasingly unbalanced view point, and a string of scandals (Jayson Blair among others) finally put an end to my subscription. Still, I have fond memories of The Gray Lady.

I liked Ruth Reichl. True, at a time when most of us have more pressing concerns than whether 1991 Francois Jobard Bourgogne blanc is properly paired with the cold salmon (or more importantly whether I can afford a bottle), I still wanted to have dinner with her and have her explain to me that the Chilean Sea Bass on my plate does not really exist. That it is really Patagonian Tooth Fish which was re-named because no one would order it as Patagonian Tooth Fish. I wanted to hear more memories of her father visiting a very specific butcher shop where he picked out the perfectly marbled steak, carried it home in brown paper, and cooked it to perfection for his family. The reader can hear the sizzle. What a treat it would be to have her reveal the subtle hints of rosemary, or tarragon, or saffron detected by her refined and educated palate on a dish I would simply describe as "really delicious." To Reichl, eating well is an art form.

Garlic and Sapphires is not great literature. But I don't figure Reichl ever expected or desired it to be. It is fun...and that left me satisfied (and hungry).

9 comments:

  1. I've read a couple of Reichl's memoirs (not this one, though - this is the one where she dresses up as other people, yes?) and thoroughly enjoyed them. For me she's one of those writers whose prose is like a runway. I zoom along it so fast that I don't doubt that I miss the less than stellar bits along the way! She makes me laugh, though, and I'm a sucker for that!

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  2. Litlove, yes, she dresses up like other people so she won't be recognized. It's amazing how differently she was treated when she looks like the type who does not often frequent Le Cirque as opposed to the restaurant critic of the NYT. She made me laugh as well, and her description of dishes was...shall we say, calorie dense! I'm afraid I gained weight just reading about them.

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  3. And did you pair this book with the appropriate wine? That's funny that she tries to disguise herself. I imagine when you get to be a well-known food critic it is difficult to be served and treated like a "normal" person.

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  4. Stefanie, an understated yet distinctive little Merlot with a hint of wild blackberry, well-rounded mouth feel, and a blossomed nose!!

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  5. Disguising herself adds a whole new dimension to the job, don't you think? What a funny thing to have to do! This sounds like a bit of a laugh - I love funny food writing enough to forgive the sloppy editing that allowed the string of cliches to crowd the plate.

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  6. Di, once I stopped being such a nit-picking pill, I really enjoyed the book a lot. I certainly want to read more...the woman knows food, let me tell you.

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  7. Well, we're all guilty of being trite from time to time--but it sounds as though she could have edited this one a bit more! Good for you for ignoring your pedantic side. I'm REALLY bad at doing that....

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  8. Tinky, so true. I think a New York Times critic (restaurant or otherwise) may be tempted to get a little too full of one's self. I mean, let's face it, being able to appreciate what makes a nice dish or a good movie is hardly up there with being able to discuss quantum physics. A critic for the NYT might tend to forget that. But Reichl did not come across that way to me. She seemed to be someone who would be a nice dinner companion. She didn't seem to take herself too too seriously, so I decided not to. I just had to keep reminding myself, "this is not literature...this is a fun memoir," and then I enjoyed it for what it was.

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  9. Just added this to my list of Wanted Books . . . sounds like fun! And I could use a little food enthusiasm at the moment (other than my addiction to chocolate, I am sadly uninspired in the food department lately. Alas).

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