Homemade Life: Stories and Recipes from My Kitchen Table (Anglais) Broché – 5 décembre 2013
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But the book's appeal comes as much from the recipes as its truly remarkable writing. Wizenberg's food descriptions are luscious: Double Chocolate Cupcakes with Ricotta, Bourbon, and Orange Zest will always sound enticing, but when Molly describes how "the soft dairy richness of the fresh cheese gains depth from dark chocolate, and the chocolate's sincere, not-too-sweetness borrows intrigue from the boozy ricotta" you can't help but head straight to the kitchen to make them yourself. And unlike some excellent food-bloggers, Molly writes elegant but accessible prose that goes beyond the gustatory to access emotion. Her writing is poignant without feeling cloying or obvious, and her novelist's sense for pacing keeps you turning pages.
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I preordered this book, being a longtime Orangette reader with unshaken trust in Molly's palate. The combination of ingredients in her Buchons Au Thons alone changed the way I consider food, flavor, and a can of tuna.
More than that, Molly writes about food the way I feel about food -- simple meals are intertwined with memories and people and how we become who and what we are. Even if I someday manage a perfect souffle, I will still crave my mom's egg salad sandwiches, white bread only, on Sundays in July.
I tend to fall into Nigella Lawson books -- she makes cooking look SO sexy and fun -- but the domestic goddess is missing an accessibility Molly manages easily. Her voice and the sometimes heart-rendingly personal stories she tells with each recipe really do bring you to her kitchen table. And then they give you a cookie.
From its simple, delightful design to the stories to the recipes that come with USEFUL instructions (seriously, so many recipes fail at this), this is already one of my favorite cookbooks. This, to me, is what food is about.
If I have one complaint, it's that the simple design doesn't allow for glossy 8x10 photos of each recipe's results. Thank god she's still got Orangette for that!
As delicious as the recipes are, however, this is not primarily a cookbook. The recipes are a bonus feature in as lovely a book of essays as I remember reading in--well, I think--ever. I don't much like essays, usually, but then I didn't think I'd like boiled kale either, and we're having that once a week now. If you skip the essays and only make the recipes, you'll miss the best of the feast.
Ms. Wizenberg's stories of finding her place have obviously been carefully crafted, with deft imagery, but they are also page-turners. You can't wait to see how each little episode ends, even though you know it ends with a recipe and the subject matter is familiar to us all.
She dusts the ordinary, whether she's writing about dough or death, with a shimmer of something that makes it special.
"There were hot dogs sometimes, and cans of baked beans. Our garlic came in a jar, minced and ready, and our butter was known to go rancid."
So what was so great about meals at the Oklahoma City home of Morris Wizenberg?
"It was the steady rhythm of meeting in the kitchen every night, sitting down at the table, and sharing a meal. Dinner didn't come through a swinging door, balanced on the arm of an anonymous waiter; it was something that we made together. We built our family that way --- in the kitchen, seven nights a week. We built a life for ourselves, together around that table. And although I couldn't admit it then, my father was showing me, in his pleasure and in his pride, how to live wholly, hungrily, loudly."
And so it came to pass, right there on page two of "A Homemade Life: Stories and Recipes from My Kitchen Table", that I fell in love with Molly Wizenberg. Because she had what so many of us want --- a childhood with a steady rhythm and loving parents. And because she had incorporated what she learned during those meals so she can, without embarrassment, write directly and emotionally about her family and its meals.
This book has 50 recipes, and many of them are fine and useful, if a bit tilted in favor of cakes and breads, pancakes and French toast. But they're not the reason that [...]--- the blog that got Molly Wizenberg started, the blog that got her a gig at Bon Appetit magazine and a book contract --- was named "the world's top food blog" by The Times of London. I mean, her father's recipe for potato salad called for ranch dressing and three-quarters of a cup of mayonnaise. That ain't gourmet.
The reason to read this book --- the reason to put down whatever you're currently reading and devour these 300 pages right now --- is that it connects the food to the people who cooked it and ate it. It's a memoir about a family, a real family. About a father who loved crossword puzzles, Dylan Thomas, his kids, his wife in high heels, a cold beer on Saturdays. And his daughter.
A kid who is loved by her father and knows it --- life will have a hard time crushing her. Molly Wizenberg left Oklahoma for graduate study in France before deciding she really wanted to do something with food. To support herself, she sold olive oils and taught English in Paris, then moved to Seattle and worked at a Pilates studio and as a publicist for an academic publisher. She didn't have many dates. Her first major kiss came rather late, in my view; her first big love (in Paris, of course) was unconsummated, unless you give him extra points for introducing her to Tarte Tatin. Not exactly a "career path". But the most important people in her life believed in her and told her so. And when her dad got sick.....
Yes, this is that book. We meet "Burg", learn his eccentricities, get his recipes for French toast (he used oil, not butter) and stewed prunes with citrus and cinnamon (which is, as Molly says, excellent when slightly warmed and served atop Greek yogurt). But exactly halfway into the book, when we are attuned to its music and want this quirky family story to go on and on, Molly's father got cancer and died. At 73. Very quickly. He went in for tests and surgery, fully expecting to leave the hospital and start chemo, but when the surgeons opened him up, they found no future inside him.
A book about meals is elemental, and that gives a food writer an edge when it comes time for her to write an account of death. Molly Wizenberg's chapters about her father --- his compressed dying and the long, long aftermath --- are as good as it gets. Believe me, you will weep. And cheer. Because she nails every moment. Like, after he died:
"I won't tell you that it was hard. You already know that. I was so numb sometimes that my hands stopped working, just locked themselves into funny, pinched fists. But then there was the gratitude, a sort of low-grade, queasy gratitude, that he was free."
There is the grieving, and the recipes from new friends, and the memories of her father that remind her of more recipes, and then, because she wants to write, she starts her blog. Soon she gets an e-mail from a young New York composer who, like her, had lived in France. Brandon Pettit writes: "My friend Meredith and I relate to you because your writing is exactly how we feel and talk about food and life." Molly writes back. And....
"It's going to sound silly, I know, but I think that what it all comes down to is winning hearts and minds. Underneath everything else, all the plans and goals and hopes, that's why we get up in the morning, why we believe, why we try, why we bake chocolate cakes. That's the best we can ever hope to do: to win hearts and minds, to love and be loved."
Foodies will come for the recipes, stay for the stories. Others will cherish "A Homemade Life" for the writing. Women's book clubs --- they'll show up by the thousands, making this book huge.
Her father would be so proud.