Why do we enjoy reading?
For if you follow this blog, you must enjoy reading. I don't write reviews about food or movies or different brands of lipstick. I write about books, and I write about them because I love them, and surely, reader, you come here to love books too.I enjoy reading for many different reasons at different times. Sometimes, I enjoy reading because it makes me ask myself questions that are hard to ask and hard to answer. Other times, I enjoy reading because it opens doors inside of me, behind which wait memories and emotions I couldn't really access otherwise. And sometimes, reader, I enjoy reading because reading is home.
This last has become especially important to me over the course of my flight from the authorities. "Home" is no longer a place with a front door and a bathroom sink and a carpet that I always trip over but never remember to tack down. "Home" isn't even a car with my earrings under the seat where they fell and I forgot to pull them out. The closest thing I have to "home" these days is reading.
The School of Essential Ingredients by the sumptuous Erica Bauermeister...
...is the sun room in my new home. One might think that it would be the kitchen, but that's not the case; no, reader. It is a sun room with big windows and a deep, cushion-y, jewel-toned couch on which I might ensconce myself of a weekend. It is a sun room that's warm even in the wintertime, where I can take a steaming cup of cinnamon tea and watch the rain fall. I enjoyed this book not because it is challenging (it is not) and not because it stirs up strong feelings within me (it does not). I enjoyed this book because it is incredibly comfortable.
The prose is heavily embroidered - nothing is soft without being velvety, nothing opens without blossoming, nothing is smooth without being silken. You know the type of prose, reader. It's not a deep literary work, but it's incredibly lush.
The work is episodic - it is almost a series of short stories, divided roughly into chapters. Each story explores the life of a different character in the book; the characters are connected through a cooking class. This settling and style lets Bauermeister unleash her voice, describing food with loving care, and affording her characters the same tender affection. The result is that the reader feels cushioned by Bauermeister's writing. I have needed that cushion of late, as I've had to head literally underground to avoid stepping on the toes of a certain Federal Agent Extraordinaire, and cave floors are unforgiving mattresses.
While The School of Essential Ingredients proved inadequate as a pillow for my head, reader, it was a lovely place to set my heart while I waited for Hawthorne to give up the search.
Now, for Spoilers.
Reader, I almost did not review this book for you, because there are no spoilers. There's not really a ton of plot in this book - it's all character studies. They are all done with great care and skill, but there's nothing for me to reveal.
So here's what I did. I read the sequel.
The sequel is called "The Lost Art of Mixing," and it is just as approachable as The School of Essential Ingredients (albeit sadder in tone). In that sequel, the chef from the first book is unexpectedly pregnant, and trying to navigate the challenge of her relatively new relationship alongside the pregnancy. She deepens throughout the sequel, and by the end of the book, she is a more layered character than the first book allows.
The School of Essential Ingredients and The Lost Art of Mixing are two spots of sunshine in which a reader might curl up on a lazy Sunday afternoon. They are the foam that rests on top of a well-poured latte. They are two toasted marshmallows.
I may never come back to them, but I enjoyed sinking into them, and I encourage you to do the same.
So here's what I did. I read the sequel.
The sequel is called "The Lost Art of Mixing," and it is just as approachable as The School of Essential Ingredients (albeit sadder in tone). In that sequel, the chef from the first book is unexpectedly pregnant, and trying to navigate the challenge of her relatively new relationship alongside the pregnancy. She deepens throughout the sequel, and by the end of the book, she is a more layered character than the first book allows.
The School of Essential Ingredients and The Lost Art of Mixing are two spots of sunshine in which a reader might curl up on a lazy Sunday afternoon. They are the foam that rests on top of a well-poured latte. They are two toasted marshmallows.
I may never come back to them, but I enjoyed sinking into them, and I encourage you to do the same.
Rating: Divine.
Possible ratings: Magnificent, Divine, Satisfactory, Tiresome, Lamentable, Execrable. This is a blog about words, what rating system did you expect?
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