Review: Lunch in Paris, by Elizabeth Bard

Lunch in Paris
Lunch in Paris: a Love Story, with Recipes
by Elizabeth Bard

When I picked up Elizabeth Bard’s wonderful foodie memoir, Lunch in Paris, I’m not sure what I was expecting. I mean, I knew the story of a young American woman in Paris wasn’t going to be about the side effects of diet pills or overspending with credit cards, but I think I was expecting something more like Julie and Julia.

What I got was sort of Adam Gopnik with food. This memoir begins at lunch, quickly moves to the author’s then lover’s (now husband) flat, and then into the kitchen before going back to bed. As I do, she associates food with highs and lows in her life, and has a recipe – familiar or French, sometimes both – for every milestone in her life. Her tales of going to the market are completely envy-inspiring, and her description of standing in her tiny kitchen licking the knife after making a flourless chocolate gateau are drool-worthy.

Bard is a journalist, by trade, of course, so it helps that she already knows how to hook a reader. I’ve never read any of her magazine writing, but I love her writer’s voice in this book, and really hope she does more like it. Soon.

And yes, I have tried at least one of the recipes.

Goes well with: a dry cappuccino and a single square of dark chocolate

Mini-reviews: Three by Elin Hilderbrand

I’ve been reading a lot of Elin Hilderbrand’s work this summer. In fact, I think I now own all of her Nantucket novels, though I still have at least three left to read. These novels, which are not a series, but are all set on the island of Nantucket, are easing my yen for the beach the way the best weight loss pills help you shed pounds safely.

Here’s a brief wrap-up of the last three Hilderbrand novels I’ve read:

The Castaways

The Castaways is the story of four successful couples, all friends for years, who refer to themselves collectively as The Castaways. When one of the couples dies in a tragic boating accident, secrets about the intertwining relationships among the surviving six people then come out. This was a deliciously dishy novel about affairs of the heart and the flesh, and it’s much more satisfying a read than I thought it would be.

Nantucket Nights

Nantucket Nights starts out being a story about female bonding, when three long-time friends meet for their annual ritual of Midnight Swimming, off a remote stretch of beach, after the summer season is officially over, but one of them doesn’t come back from the swim. All three women, Val, Kayla and Antoinette, are distinctly different but still strong personalities, but I thought the mystery element of the plot was a bit predictable.

Summer people

Summer People is the most recent novel I’ve finished reading, and while I enjoyed it, it felt a little unfinished. While the adult storyline is a little weak – that of Beth grieving over her dead husband while being confronted almost daily with her former lover, a year round Nantucket resident, as opposed to she and her family who are summer people – the teen storyline is a little meatier: Beth’s twin teen children, Winnie and Garrett each deal with grief and first love during their summer, Winnie with Marcus, the son of her dad’s last client, and Garrett with his mother’s ex-lover’s daughter. Like Nantucket Nights, this novel includes an unwanted pregnancy story, and the pair leave me suspecting that author Hildebrand is anti-choice, but despite that, her stuff is wonderful summer reading.

Goes well with: Fresh caught saltwater fish, grilled, with summer veggies, and either lemonade, iced tea, or beer.

Review: Three Cups of Tea

Three Cups of Tea
Three Cups of Tea
by Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin

I initially picked up Three Cups of Tea some time last year, in the same shopping trip that included picking up a couple of different anti aging creams for my mother, having my hair done, and spending some time alone with a grilled cheese and tomato sandwich at Barnes and Noble. I didn’t actually read it until recently, however, because it got lost in my house – so lost, that I actually picked up a second copy thinking I’d never purchased the first!

I’m glad I finally read this book though, because the story is beautiful. I mean, I disconnected a bit in the first third of the book when author Greg Mortenson, whose story this is, was living in his car to save money so he could get back to Pakistan, but by the time I got to the end of his book – which is really just the beginning of his legacy – I was completely invested in the man and his mission.

For the five people who haven’t read it, Three Cups of Tea is the story of an American mountain climber who fails to reach the summit of K2, becomes severely ill during his descent, and gets lost in a remote corner of Pakistan, where local villagers take him in, help him recover, and essentially adopt him. As thanks, he promises to return and build a school where the young women of the village can be educated. He eventually makes good on his promise, first building a bridge, then the first school, then heading a foundation with a mission of building more schools in Pakistan, all for educating women and girls, while still being respectful of local religion and customs.

And to top it all off, this is all taking place at the very beginning of the Taliban’s rise to power.

While, at times, my not-so-inner snob found her skin crawling at the less-than-pristine conditions of Mortenson’s living arrangements, I finished the book with tears in my eyes. I feel this book should be required reading for everyone, everywhere.

Goes well with: Tea and flat bread.

Review: Hope in a Jar, by Beth Harbison

Hope in a Jar
Hope in a Jar
by Beth Harbison
St. Martin’s Griffin, 368 pages
Buy it from Amazon >>

When I saw Beth Harbison’s novel Hope in a Jar staring at me from the summer reading table at the bookstore, I didn’t connect the title with the Philosophy product at all, mainly because I haven’t used Philosophy in over a decade. I’m an Aveda girl, for the most part, although I’ve been branching out a little lately.

Just a few chapters into the sometimes fluffy, sometimes deadly serious story about Allie and Olivia – childhood best friends who part ways over a dark rumor only to reconnect at their 20-year high school reunion – I realized that this writer was my contemporary in more ways than one, and not just because of the dialogue that covered everything from fat burners that really work to which flavor of Lip Smackers is the coolest (I liked root beer, personally), but because I actually recognized every single pop-culture reference in her story.

There’s comfort in the familiar, which is why even though the plot was fairly predictable, I enjoyed this novel immensely. Books don’t always have to have a lofty purpose, or educate a starving mind. Sometimes, it’s okay to read for the sheer pleasure of being entertained, and Harbison excels at entertaining. Sure, I figured out the ending way before the end of the book, but I still enjoyed watching the characters get there, because the dialogue was spot on, the relationships made sense, and the descriptions were so vivid (as vivid as many of the outfits we all wore as children in the 1970s and 1980s) that it was almost like attending my own 20-year high school reunion, without any of the attendant angst.

Hope in a Jar made me laugh out loud, a lot, and sometimes, that’s what a book SHOULD do. I haven’t read any of Harbison’s other work, but I know that when I do, I’ll enjoy it immensely.

Goes well with: Steak-ums sandwiches and cold Tab

Booking Through Thursday: Discussion

btt2

On Thursday, July 8th, Booking through Thursday asked:

Do you have friends and family to share books with? Discuss them with? Does it matter to you?

When I was little, my mother and I had an unofficial race to see who be the first to read each month’s issue of Ms. Magazine. I usually won, simply because I got home to check the mail before she got home from work, and I usually got in trouble for taking her magazine without permission. By the time I left for college, however, we’d learned to share our books, and to this day, I’ll read things she recommends and vice versa. In fact, most of what she reads lately comes from the boxes I send to her every few weeks – her magazines, and my paperbacks (once they’ve been read).

While my mother and I can talk about anything from the latest pronexin reviews to my novel ideas and her newest purse design, we rarely discuss the books we read, though a recent exception was Melissa Gilbert’s memoir, which we both liked because in it Gilbert comes across as a real person, with real flaws.

But I have other friends with whom I can discuss literature. For example, my good friend Deb, shares my love of Charlaine Harris, so we share Sookie Stackhouse and Aurora Teagarden novels, as well as other books, and often talk about them.

What I have never done, however, is join a book club, not because I wouldn’t love more people to discuss books with, but because I read so quickly, that I can’t imagine finishing a book, and then having to wait days or weeks to talk about it.

Review: The Blue Bistro, by Elin Hilderbrand

The Blue Bistro
The Blue Bistro
by Elin Hilderbrand
St. Martin’s Griffin, 336 pages
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The Blue Bistro may be the fourth of author Elin Hilderbrand’s novels set on the island of Nantucket, but it’s only the second I’ve read. Thankfully, her novels are not a series, as much as they are a collection. Most don’t even mention the same restaurants.

In any case, this novel, which is set in and around a beach front restaurant, (restaurant books are not the best appetite suppressants, by the way), tells the story of 28-year-old Adrienne Dealey, freshly off the Colorado ski slopes, where she worked as the concierge in a tone-y hotel, and looking for a new life, without her old lover, who wasn’t good for her. Telling is the fact that she misses the dog, more than the man.

Having been advised to try Nantucket for the summer, Adrienne begins looking for work, and in the process, meets Thatcher Smith, who co-owns the famous Blue Bistro with his childhood friend, the reclusive, but amazingly talented, Fiona Kemp. What follows is part hard work, part romance, and part mystery – what hold does Fiona have on Thatcher, that he can’t (or won’t) even spend the entire night with Adrienne after they become lovers?

As is expected of Hilderbrand novels, there is sophisticated, realistic romance set against the charming backdrop of Nantucket in the summertime.

You can almost feel the salt in your hair.

Goes well with: Champagne and lobster tails.

Review: Passage from England, by Frank Zajaczkowski

Passage from England
Passage from England
by Frank Zajaczkowski
CreateSpace, 378 Pages
Get it at Amazon >>

When author Frank Zajaczkowski contacted me about reading and reviewing his memoir I was flattered – as I always am. Then I went to his website and read the excerpts posted there, and immediately I was hooked, not just by his story – his journey from a small boy in post-war England to southern California, and his other journey, less prominent in the book, but still relevant, from California to the Virgin Islands, as an adult – but also because his descriptive paragraphs have some of the best imagery I’ve read in years, though, granted, a lot of what I’ve been reading this summer is beachy novels about women with designer houses, SUVs, strings of kids, and the ability to either summer or just live on the island of Nantucket.

So Mr. Zajaczkowski’s book served as a palate cleanser, of sorts, but also as a glimpse into the recent past. That the author is the same age as my mother, who is also the child of a war veteran, also an American living abroad (in her case, Mexico, which, I suspect, shares more similarities than differences with St. Thomas, despite the long distance between them), made the story resonate with me. I felt his trepidation at being put on a train, then on a boat to America, at a young age, and cowered with him when his alcoholic father grew violent. I felt his sense of loss, and even betrayal as his brother left the family to become an actor (I won’t share what he’s done, but I confess I looked him up on IMDB after I finished the book), and even more so, at the end of the book, when the high school aged Frank and his sister are abandoned again, by their mother this time.

In between those two events – the ocean crossing and the final betrayal, there are a series of coming of age stories – seeing the Tarzan house, kissing a girl for the first time, first jobs, first cars – all seen through the slightly filmy lens of memory, but with no less impact than if they were happening now.

Interspersed among the memories are a fresher set of memories, that of the adult Frank’s move from L.A. to St. Thomas with his wife, and the frustrations tied to that process – delayed shipments of belongings, hurricanes and other storms, where to spend holidays when you no longer have a home “back home…” the list goes on.

If there are any flaws in Passage from England they are limited to a few typos that got missed in editing (it happens at all levels of publishing) and my own desire to find out what happened after the last scene – but that, I hope, will be in Zajaczkowski’s next memoir.

As to this one, I’d recommend it to anyone who is part of the “baby boomer” generation, and to those of us who are their children, to ex-pats, immigrants, and the spouses and friends thereof, and to anyone who wants to know what life was like just a few decades ago. It’s a compelling story, and a great read.

Goes well with: fish tacos and cold beer.

Review: The House on Oyster Creek, by Heidi Jon Schmidt

House on Oyster Creek
The House on Oyster Creek
Heidi John Schmidt
NAL Trade, 368 pages
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I picked up The House on Oyster Creek because the title and cover blurb intrigued me. It ended up being nothing like what I expected, but that’s not a bad thing.

In this lyrically written novel, you can hear the coming and going of the tide off Cape Cod in the author’s words. Schmidt certainly knows how to set a mood – and she does so, here, with delicacy. When we meet protagonist Charlotte Tradescome, and her husband Henry, we are given the impression that the younger, more vibrant Charlotte loves her thorny, somewhat aloof husband, but is no longer entirely “in love” with him, especially since the birth of their now-three-year-old daughter. …

When Henry’s father dies, and the couple inherit a house on the cape, Charlotte seizes it as an opportunity to take her child away from the hustle and bustle of life in New York City, and give her something “real.” She immediately embraces the new location, the crusty locals who deem her a “washashore,” and the rhythm of life on the shore. She also falls for a local oyster farmer Darryl Stead, while Henry spends his time reading, writing, and hitting the local pub late at night.

In any other author’s hands, Charlotte would divorce Henry, marry Darryl, and proceed to have an epic romance. In Schmidt’s hands, that doesn’t happen, and while Henry is portrayed as the ultimate curmudgeon, we also see that there’s real affection between himself and his wife.

It is, however, the land war that Charlotte accidentally causes that is the center of this story – and a metaphor for the Henry/Charlotte/Darryl triangle. When selling off part of their land, Charlotte left the door open for greedy rich folk to build a house totally out of tune with the coast, and block access to the oyster farms.

Of course Darryl is one of those most affected by that act, and of course they work together to rectify the situation.

Meanwhile, the year turns, the characters grow, and every few scenes, fresh oysters are being cooked and served.

This may not be the best novel in the world, but for summer beach reading, it holds some lovely surprises – pearls in the oysters, if you will.

Goes well with: Fried oysters and cold beer.

Coming Soon

Sometimes I feel like I’m more likely to buy gold coins from a famous pirate than to ever catch up on book reviews.

Upcoming reviews you should look for:

  • The House on Oyster Creek, by Heidi Jon Schmidt
  • The Way I See It, by Melissa Anderson
  • Passage From England, by Frank Zajaczkowski
  • The Blue Bistro, by Elin Hilderbrand
  • Hope in a Jar, by Elizabeth M. Harbison
  • Three Cups of Tea, by Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin

And that doesn’t include the two books I’m reading now – a Laurie R. King one-off, and Lunch in Paris by Elizabeth Bard.

The former isn’t gripping me the way King’s writing usually is, but that doesn’t really surprise me because I think I’m in a memoir mood right now.

In any case, I’m reading, and will be reviewing, so keep checking back.

Review: Barefoot, by Elin Hilderbrand

Barefoot"
Barefoot
by Elin Hilderbrand
Little, Brown and Company, 528 pages
Get it at Amazon >>

Last month when I got home from Mexico, and had the opportunity to splurge on books, I looked for beach reading – books that took place in cute coastal villages. I’d been eying the paperback version of Elin Hilderbrands’s sixth Nantucket novel Barefoot for months, and finally brought it home on that trip. I didn’t actually read it it until the beginning of June, however, and when I did, it took a while before I was hooked. This is a novel that starts slowly, cresting like the gentlest of waves.

I don’t mind that sort of novel – sometimes they can be really satisfying reading – and I also didn’t mind that this was really an extended character piece. It begins, of course, with three women, Vicki, Brenda and Melanie, arriving on Nantucket for a summer in the cottage that Vicki and Brenda (sisters) inherited from their aunt. Melanie’s along for the ride because she’s a friend of Vicki’s. Each woman comes with baggage of the figurative kind as well as actual luggage. For Vicki, it’s cancer – she’ll be having chemo while summering by the shore. Brenda was a hotshot professor at a small, private university, fired for having an affair with her student (it should be noted that this isn’t a creepy kind of affair – her student was older than she was – but it was a professional faux pas). And Melanie…Melanie is newly pregnant, but because her husband is having an affair he refuses to end, the only birth announcements she’s made – or pregnancy announcements, for that matter, are to the other women with her on the trip, and, within a couple of chapters, the young islander Josh, who first greets them at the airport, then ends up becoming whatever the male version of an au pair is, since Vicki came with her two young children.

During the summer, Brenda works on the book/screenplay that she hasn’t been able to focus on elsewhere, Vicki becomes empowered with regard to her disease, and Melanie has a summer fling with young Josh.

None of these things are at all surprising, nor is the ending of the novel remotely unpredictable, but sometimes you don’t need a great twist for a novel to be satisfying; sometimes, all you need are vivid descriptions, three-dimensional characters (even when you find some of their behavior a bit annoying), and a cute coastal village. Hilderbrand provides all of those.

Goes well with: lemonade and a tuna sandwich from inside a picnic cooler at the beach.