It's SUPPOSED to be about the FOOD
Over the weekend I got a head start on mine and Brad's agreement by finishing three books: Christmas Jars (which I borrowed from a co-worker months ago, obvious by the title), At First Sight by Nicholas Sparks (a let-down, which is often the case for me, yet I read everything he writes) and, finally, Julie and Julia: My Year of Cooking Dangerously (which is why I'm writing about literature on a food blog!) I liked how it was written - much like a blog, which is why I was attracted to it in the first place - but I thought it would be more about food. The whole "Bridget Jones meets The French Chef" thing should have tipped me off. It didn't. And I LOVE Helen Fielding, I do.
She highlights so few recipes, considering the hundreds she had to make to make her way through Mastering the Art of French Cooking. If anything, this book is just a way to make snide remarks about the political group that she doesn't belong to. I think that's what turned me off, really. I picked up the book thinking I'd be in for great stories, much like Ruth Reichl writes, but I was so distracted by the tacky insults she constantly makes.
The cursing? Yes, it's strong and constant, but that doesn't really bother me. And I liked hearing about how her cooking brought her and her friends closer - and how it times it pushed her and her family apart. She's a bit, um, obsessive to say the least! And honestly, I'd give another of her books a try. Like I said, I like how she writes - I just wish she'd stick more to the food and stray a bit from politics because, as she ultimately says, this is what it's all about: "If there's a sexier sound on this planet than the person you're in love with cooing over the crepes you made for him, I don't know what it is."
Cooking is sexy. It is fun. It is satisfying. And I hope next time Powell focuses more on that, and less on her hate for the opposing party.
She highlights so few recipes, considering the hundreds she had to make to make her way through Mastering the Art of French Cooking. If anything, this book is just a way to make snide remarks about the political group that she doesn't belong to. I think that's what turned me off, really. I picked up the book thinking I'd be in for great stories, much like Ruth Reichl writes, but I was so distracted by the tacky insults she constantly makes.
The cursing? Yes, it's strong and constant, but that doesn't really bother me. And I liked hearing about how her cooking brought her and her friends closer - and how it times it pushed her and her family apart. She's a bit, um, obsessive to say the least! And honestly, I'd give another of her books a try. Like I said, I like how she writes - I just wish she'd stick more to the food and stray a bit from politics because, as she ultimately says, this is what it's all about: "If there's a sexier sound on this planet than the person you're in love with cooing over the crepes you made for him, I don't know what it is."
Cooking is sexy. It is fun. It is satisfying. And I hope next time Powell focuses more on that, and less on her hate for the opposing party.
