Sunday, June 5, 2011
Blood, Bones, and Butter by Gabrielle Hamilton
Subtitled "The Inadvertant Education of a Reluctant Chef", which does sum up this rhapsodic, profane, wonderful memoir. It is a mass of contradictions. She is a lesbian who married a man. She never wanted to be a chef, but she fell in love with a space in New York City that screamed 'bistro' to her, so much so that she was composing the menu in her head as she walked through it the very first time, despite the ruined state it was in at the time. She has a complicated relationship with her mother (as well as the rest of her family) yet she credits her mother with all her inspiration as a chef. But in the end she had two children, a mother-in-law she adored, an Italian heritage that she married into, and a bistro called 'Prune'.
Unlike many chef's memoirs, this book focuses more on her life than her restaurant. It reminds me of Ruth Reichel's memoir, "Comfort Me With Apples'--it is less about her relationship with food and more about her relationship with life. Which is fairly gritty at times. She had a mispent young--drugging, stealing, and the like--which she is not apologetic for (maybe she already managed to make amends with those who she feels she wronged before publishing this), and a strange marriage that she describes rather than analizes--which I like. I can manage the analysis, thank you very much. The book is well-written (the author has an MFA in writing, and it shows) and you leave it liking her and wanting to eat at 'Prune', to sample her hearty straight forward food. I ended up being impressed and intrigued.
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