Favourite Recipe Book

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Mar 252005
 

I don’t usu­ally wax lyr­ic­al about recipe books, although I do have a few, but I was brows­ing through my favour­ite the oth­er day look­ing for some­thing to make and figured it’s well worth a recommendation.

Deborah Madis­on’s Veget­ari­an Cook­ing for Every­one fea­tures this quote on the front cover: 

The 1,400 recipes in this book are those that I like to cook. If you’re a com­mit­ted veget­ari­an, you can pre­pare every recipe in this book. If you are a vegan, you can cook most of them. If you don’t attach a title to your eat­ing style, you can cook everything in this book and serve it with meat, fish, or fowl.

The focus of this book is enjoy­ing cook­ing and enjoy­ing the food that is pro­duced. There are no lec­tures on being a veget­ari­an; there is inform­a­tion on basic cook­ing tech­niques and what vari­ous ingredi­ents are and how they work. The wide range of recipes cov­ers almost everything I’ve ever wanted to cook (except for meat-based meals, of course). And the recipes work. They’re not neces­sar­ily quick, but the clear explan­a­tions ensure that the res­ults are worth eat­ing. I was look­ing through the book while writ­ing this review, and found myself temp­ted to make things on every page (cot­tage cheese and nut­meg pan­cakes, any­one?). Hmmm, I think it’s time for lunch.

Mar 182005
 

Jerzy Kos­in­ski’s Being There was a reas­on­ably pop­u­lar book­club book, at least in part because it’s short and thus most people could read it in full (and some even read it twice!). Sev­er­al of us had also seen the film (screen­play also by Jerzy Kos­in­ski). Reac­tions to the book at book­club var­ied, from those who found it deeply pro­found to those (includ­ing me) who did­n’t quite get it and wer­en’t sure what they were meant to “get” either.

A brief syn­op­sis: Chance is a sim­pleton who works as a garden­er for an old man (rela­tion­ship unspe­cified) and spends his spare time watch­ing tele­vi­sion. His exist­ence is com­pletely unknown out­side of the house and garden where he lives and works (no birth cer­ti­fic­ate, no record of exist­ence any­where), and when the Old Man dies, the law­yers who take pos­ses­sion of the prop­erty evict him. Through luck, Chance is taken into the house of a rich, influ­en­tial couple, who assume he is someone of know­ledge and power because of his calmness and the high qual­ity of the hand-me-down clothes from the Old Man. His state­ments about life in the garden are assumed to be deeply mean­ing­ful alleg­or­ies; his know­ledge of human beha­viour as shown on tele­vi­sion meshes with the expect­a­tions of those around him, and he is feted by both report­ers and politicians.

Reviews on Amazon talk about the bit­ing satire evid­enced in the book; the book­club mem­bers spent more time talk­ing about the meta­phors. Chance goes from being lit­er­ally nobody, with no iden­ti­fic­a­tion, and no real name, to some­body import­ant simply due to luck — an exag­ger­ated ver­sion of Andy War­hol’s 15 minutes of fame. People see in him what they wish to see — the wife of the busi­ness­man invents a romantic past for him, the Soviet Ambas­sad­or thinks he speaks Rus­si­an and under­stands Krylov, the US Pres­id­ent con­siders him as the next can­did­ate for Vice-Pres­id­ent — des­pite there being no actu­al basis for any of these assumptions. 

I found the book rather too over the top for my taste; the film was bet­ter and more detailed. Peter Sellers made Chance believ­able where the book shows the holes in the fable. Oth­er book­club mem­bers loved the book though and enjoyed fig­ur­ing out the meta­phors and won­der­ing which bits of the book were inspired by which parts of Jerzy Kos­in­ski’s life. We spent a bit of time dis­cuss­ing what changes would have been required in the book were it writ­ten today, rather than in 1971. Tele­vi­sion is a lot less coy now and Chance’s reac­tions to the attemp­ted seduc­tions might be dif­fer­ent. All in all, I’d rather see the film again than read the book again.

Christopher Moore’s “Lamb”

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Jan 282005
 

The book­club picked Chris­toph­er Moore’s Lamb: The Gos­pel Accord­ing to Biff, Christ’s Child­hood Pal as our Decem­ber book — the tim­ing being roughly appro­pri­ate. The book is a fanci­ful nov­el, depict­ing Christ’s life in a some­what pre­pos­ter­ous but enjoy­able way. It spends most of its time in the 30 years between Christ’s birth and the begin­ning of his min­istry, and has extra­vag­ant stor­ies told in a light-hearted way, as would befit someone who was a nor­mal human try­ing to cope with being Christ’s friend. 

Most of the book­club mem­bers enjoyed the book, but there was a def­in­ite cor­rel­a­tion between know­ledge of the Gos­pels and the level of enjoy­ment. Those who knew how the Gos­pel authors had depic­ted any giv­en event found the occa­sion­ally almost far­cic­al altern­at­ive ver­sion funny, where­as the oth­ers did­n’t quite get it in sev­er­al cases. We spent some time at book­club com­par­ing the ver­sions of stor­ies, dis­cuss­ing the real role of Mary Mag­dalene and the fact that she was­n’t a har­lot (des­pite what the Cath­ol­ic Church and vari­ous trans­la­tions of the Bible claimed), touch­ing on the “Holy Blood, Holy Grail” and “da Vinci Code” ver­sions of Christ’s rela­tion­ship with Mary Mag­dalene, and pos­tu­lat­ing why Levit­i­c­us has so many laws about beha­viour with animals.

Chris­toph­er Moore was wor­ried about the church reac­tion to the book, but it was, I gath­er, almost exclus­ively pos­it­ive. The book does depict Christ (Joshua) in a pos­it­ive way; Joshua is very human as well as being divine. He gets angry at God, cares about his friends, is slightly naive and very curi­ous. The descrip­tions of his beha­viour dif­fer from those in the Gos­pels by includ­ing more of the emo­tion, which makes Joshua more like­able and more approach­able. The book won’t make any­one become a Chris­ti­an, but it won’t turn them off, either.

Stanislaw Lem’s “Solaris”

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Jan 192005
 

Sol­ar­is by Stan­islaw Lem is sci­ence fic­tion more in keep­ing with “2001: A Space Odys­sey” than with most oth­er types of sci­ence fic­tion. It’s more con­cerned with explor­ing bound­ar­ies of thought and ima­gin­a­tion than with pla­cing humans in con­tact with ali­ens who speak an under­stand­able lan­guage and act with under­stand­able motives. The ali­en body here is an entire plan­et which through­out the book acts with motives the humans can only guess at.

The cov­er of the book (which comes from the 2002 movie of the same name) would lead one to assume the book is a romance, which would be false. There is a little of the romantic in it, espe­cially towards the end, but it’s not a “love in the uni­verse” book. 

The book­club had mixed feel­ings about “Sol­ar­is”, at least in part because the book is unevenly writ­ten. The pages upon pages of descrip­tion of plan­et­ary form­a­tions could prob­ably have been edited down sub­stan­tially (and in fact, even those who enjoyed the book skipped over most of the geo­graph­ic­al descrip­tions), while much of the rest of the book leaves you won­der­ing due to lack of detail (which I assume was delib­er­ate). To make the most of “Sol­ar­is” you have to be pre­pared to con­cen­trate, so it’s not really suit­able for air­plane fod­der (unless you have good head­phones to block out the noise).

Sol­ar­is” is about the unknown, and just how lim­ited human ima­gin­a­tion is in under­stand­ing truly ali­en spe­cies. One mem­ber of the book­club related that to how hard it is to truly know anoth­er per­son, and there’s quite a lot of that in the book as well; the “hero” does­n’t know what is hap­pen­ing to the oth­er humans on the space sta­tion and they have no inten­tion of telling him. The secrecy is intense and adds to the atmo­sphere of lack of under­stand­ing and lack of the cap­ab­il­ity to under­stand what is hap­pen­ing. The­or­ies abound as to the nature of the ali­en life­form, but none quite seem to fit. If you’re feel­ing in a philo­soph­ic­al mood, or look­ing for a spring­board to think about what it means to be human or even alive, you could do worse than read “Sol­ar­is”.

Sci­ence fic­tion writ­ten some time ago always runs into some prob­lems where the described future and the real present col­lide. The sec­tions where the hero is read­ing ref­er­ence books (yes, real bound books) on the space sta­tion, and com­plains about how they did­n’t have room for all the import­ant books, is notice­able to today’s read­er with exper­i­ence of effect­ively infin­ite elec­tron­ic stor­age space. And to me the com­plete lack of women as explorers in the giv­en his­tory of the plan­et Sol­ar­is, and the equally com­plete lack of women sci­ent­ists or research­ers, dates the book even more. One of the book­club mem­bers com­men­ted that these two factors togeth­er prove the author’s point, that many things are unima­gin­able. Even if they become com­mon­place 30 years later.

Palace Walk

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Sep 272004
 

Is it a bad sign when half the book­club does­n’t even show up to dis­cuss the book, and only two of us had fin­ished read­ing it? I thought so. 

Naguib Mah­fouz won the Nobel Prize for Lit­er­at­ure for his tri­logy of books set in Cairo around 1919. The cent­ral fig­ure of the book Palace Walk (Cairo Tri­logy) is al-Sayy­id Ahmad, a mer­chant who does whatever he wants while for­bid­ding his reli­gious wife (and his chil­dren) any­thing that might be deemed even slightly immor­al. The book opens with his wife get­ting up at mid­night to pre­pare for his return from the bars and cur­rent mis­tress. This theme is con­tin­ued through­out the book; when the hus­band goes away on busi­ness the wife lets her male chil­dren talk her into vis­it­ing a shrine. On the way home she is hit by a car, so there is no chance of hid­ing the fact that she left the house. As soon as she is well, the hus­band throws her out of the house and not until almost the entire neigh­bour­hood peti­tions him on her behalf does he take her back again.

The book evokes dusty streets and images of pass­ive Egyp­tians wait­ing for the storm of Eng­lish and Aus­trali­an occu­pa­tion to pass while try­ing to carry on their lives. The nov­el­ist uses the mem­bers of the fam­ily to show the dif­fer­ences in reac­tions to the sol­diers: the middle son is involved in demon­stra­tions (without the father­’s know­ledge, and cer­tainly against his will) while the eld­est cares only for women and wine and money. 

I found it a hard book to grasp. With many books you find your­self sym­path­iz­ing with one or more of the char­ac­ters. Here I either felt annoyed (e.g., with the father/husband, des­pite the obvi­ous attempts by the nov­el­ist towards the end of the book to make him more sym­path­et­ic) or sorry for them (the mother/wife and the eld­est daugh­ter). In the end I found I was read­ing as a neut­ral observ­er, rather than almost a par­ti­cipant, and so the book was not as envel­op­ing as I expec­ted. Per­haps some of this was due to the trans­la­tion; it seemed rather uneven in patches and at times I caught myself won­der­ing if some phrase had been trans­lated correctly.

One thing that is inter­est­ing in the light of the cur­rent Middle East­ern polit­ics and reli­gious dis­cus­sions is the tone of passiv­ity. There is little of the jihad tone that we hear about today, although the middle son does take part in demon­stra­tions. The fam­ily in gen­er­al tries to avoid danger and all the reli­gious lead­ers coun­sel its avoid­ance as well. From that point of view, the book is inter­est­ing as a snap­shot of an age and a way of life that prob­ably does­n’t exist any more, but that has an effect on present-day atti­tudes towards women and foreigners.

In sum­mary, I think the book is worth read­ing for the pic­ture it paints of a dif­fer­ent world. I may even read the rest of the trilogy.

Jun 172004
 

The book­club I belong to picked the books for the 2004–5 sea­son. It went a lot quick­er this year than last because two of the men had to rush off to their hockey game. We seem to have a some­what unusu­al book­club, in that there are men and women, and we try to read a wide selec­tion of types of books — some old, some new, and occa­sion­ally non-fic­tion. We mostly try for books that indi­vidu­als might not read without some incent­ive, or books that look like they’d lead to inter­est­ing discussions.

Con­tin­ue reading »

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