A Homemade Life: Stories and Recipes from My Kitchen Table by Molly Wizenberg. Simon and Schuster. 2008. 336 pages.
Molly Wizenberg, the author of the blog Orangette, wrote this food memoir. The essays are short and to the point and introduce the recipes, which are introduced again by a brief headnote. She explores a variety of memories and experiences she has had throughout her life, in no particular order that I could tell, and together, they shape the identity of a woman who loves food.
I ordered this book from Amazon based on the title, the author, and the price: it was a bargain book. I'm not displeased I ordered it, but I can recommend it only with reservations.
Wizenberg does a beautiful job of incorporating food memories into her life story, which is something that really resonates with me: since I'm studying food and specifically cookbooks as autobiographical acts, I enjoy reading pieces that are overtly autobiographical and incorporate food. Food is obviously quite important to the author. It's also clear that she has a thorough understanding of how to put dishes together: she seems quite apt at creating recipes.
While it's meant as a memoir of Wizenberg, and she claims that she had a stronger relationship with her mother than her father, the real star seems to be her father, who dies early in her adult life from cancer. She may have talked and gossipped more with her mother, but it's quite clear that she is her father's daughter when it comes to lifestyle: he imbued in her a taste for good food and an ability to cook it. As a result, her book largely seems to be a narrative of her relationship with the important men in her life, starting with her father and ending with her husband (who, truth be told, sounds too perfect to be true).
The problem I had with the book is that it lacked a real arc. There are several major plots happening in the book: the death of her father and her marriage being the two primary ones. However, there isn't any real conventional plot line, which, given the memoiristic style is okay, but she also doesn't offer any real sense of closure at the end. The essay stops, there's one last recipe, and then the readers are presented with a recipe index. I kept hoping for some closure, a reason she saw to stop the book where she did, but I didn't. There also seems to lack any clear organization of the essays in general. While the death of her father and her marriage are approached chronologically for the most part, the rest of the essays jump around.
On the whole, if you're looking for a light read that involves food (and often involves Paris), you won't be disappointed, and will most likely enjoy yourself, as I did. You also won't be blown away.
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