Extra! Extra! Children's Librarian Leads Discussion on Adult Books!

Once again, my job and food somehow end up intersecting. Every week, my division (Collection Development) has a meeting to try to keep our act together (or get our act together, depending on who you ask). I’m the only “kiddie lit” person there; otherwise, it’s the coordinator, the manager, and the two adult selectors. Our YA selector, just to keep things interesting, is in an entirely differently department. The result of all this is that I sit through a 2-hour meeting every week that has very little to do with children’s literature.

But – hark! – last week the “adult people” started planning their next genre workshop. They pick a topic (past topics have been graphic novels, literary fiction, and narrative nonfiction), limit the attendance to 15 people, and have a discussion about the characteristics of that genre. They ask everyone who attends to read at least one book from the genre beforehand. Some people participate because they either 1) know nothing about the genre and want to learn more, or 2) are passionate about the genre and want to meet others who feel the same. So the adult people were planning the next workshop and looking for topics. I couldn’t resist: I piped up, “What about foodie books?” I fully expected derisive eye-rolling because 1) I’m a “kiddie lit” person, 2) I’ve never even been to one of their genre workshops, and 3) everyone is so sick of me talking about food all the time. But no! I got nods and smiles and warm rays of light coming from the adult people. So I continued: “Not just cookbooks, because that’s a genre in and of itself. But I’m talking about books like Omnivore’s Dilemma, Alice Waters and Chez Panisse…books like that. Biographies, travelogues that center around food, tell-alls from the restaurant world.” So H. says, “That’s a great idea. Who wants to lead it?” Before I could clamp my big ol’ mouth shut, I squeak excitedly, “Me!”

So here I am. As if I didn’t have enough to do. But the truth is, I’m completely excited. I have a brief opportunity to expand my daily job to include children’s books and foodie books. It’s a rare opportunity so I fully intend on having fun and running with it. Naturally, I already have titles spinning around in my head:

Books I’ve Read –

- The Amateur Gourmet: How to Shop, Chop, and Table Hop Like a Pro by Adam Roberts
- Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver
- Don't Try This at Home: Culinary Catastrophes from the World's Greatest Chefs by Kimberly Witherspoon

- French Women Don’t Get Fat by Mireille Guiliano (the book responsible for this journey I'm on)
- From Here You Can’t See Paris: Seasons of a French Village and its Restaurant by Michael S. Sanders (my review)
- Garlic and Sapphires by Ruth Reichl
- Heirloom: Notes of an American Tomato Farmer by Tim Stark
- Julie and Julia by Julie Powell
- Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain
- Omnivore’s Dilemma by Michael Pollan
- The Perfect Egg and Other Secrets by Aldo Buzzi

Books On My To-Read List:

- Eating My Words: An Appetite for Life by Mimi Sheraton
- Home Cooking: A Writer in the Kitchen by Laurie Colwin
- In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto by Michael Pollan
- Kitchen Mysteries: Revealing the Science of Food by Herve This
- Lunch Lessons: Changing the Way We Feed Our Children by Ann Cooper
- Molecular Gastronomy: Exploring the Science of Flavor by Herve This
- My Life in France by Julia Child
- An Omelette and a Glass of Wine by Elizabeth David
- Service Included: Four-Star Secrets of an Eavesdropping Waiter by Phoebe Damrosch
- We’ve Always Had Paris…and Provence by Patricia Wells

And that’s just the tip of the iceberg – there are about 10 books more on my to-read list that I didn’t even note here. Anyone have anything else for me to add to my booklist? Remember, it’s for posterity. I plan on bringing a big list to the workshop.

Eat, drink, and read whenever you’re not cooking

The One Where I Review From Here, You Can't See Paris

From Here You Can't See Paris: seasons of a French village and its restaurant
Michael S. Sanders
Harpercollins, 2002

I'll state outright that I got everything I wanted out of From Here, You Can't See Paris. I wanted to do a little armchair traveling, and I wanted to feel, by the end of the book, that I had soaked up some French culture. On the other hand, I didn't want Mr. Sanders to sell out a village in order to sell a book. The book was successful on both counts.

Several years ago, Mr. Sanders, his wife, and their 6-year-old daughter moved to rural France for a year in order to write, experience the food and culture, and immerse themselves in the language. They moved to "the Lot", which is an area in the middle of France. Specifically, they lived in Les Arques, an area with a ridiculously small population in the off-season (I can't find it in the text now, but I believe it's only about 50 people in winter). Mr. Sanders does state in the text that his wife is a very private person so there is actually very little about her or their relationship; additionally, there isn't too much about his daughter. No, he focuses on the people of Les Arques and the one restaurant at the center of it all.

Sanders captures the loveliness, the simplicity, the richness, the complexities, and the beauty of village life - there are moments of description that just soar. Likewise, he carefully balances these moments with realistic, poignant descriptions of how village life is dying out, how elderly the permanent population of Les Arques is (the young ones having left for a more urban life, of course). In particular, I found his writing style to be beautifully nuanced and complex - the reader is truly left to do lots of reading between the lines.

Naturally, I loved reading about the food: foie gras, wine, truffles, cheese, farmers' markets. Sanders has these breathtaking descriptions of the texture of foie gras: the delicate texture of it, the small silver dollar size of the servings, the ubiquitousness of it...and then he balances it with a vivid description of going to a small-scale foie gras operation, force-feeding and all. He repeatedly captures the contradictions of life in Les Arques. Additionally, Sanders goes into the kitchen of the restaurant, La Récréation, and describes the insanity of working the summer tourist crowd. Between his descriptions of La Récréation's kitchen, Heat by Bill Buford, and Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain, I know to the core of my being that I'm not cut out to work in a restaurant kitchen! Read this gorgeous description, though, of the chef (Jacques) in the kitchen:

I watched Jacques melting butter into a sauce, how he held the saucepan tilted so slightly, his little finger elegantly extended as the others grasped the handle of the whisk. He leaned down over the pan, lifting the whisk from time to time to see how the liquid slid from the wire, then putting the sauce back on the stove to come up to temperature before adding each pat of butter.

It's a slow-paced book, but deliberately so. If you're looking for the flashy Anthony Bourdain-style memoir, this is really not for you. But if you want something to slowly meander through while you're curled up in your chair, drinking tea (or wine, in my case), this is just a lovely read.

Note: The only swear word I've ever known in French is "merde" but, according to Sanders, "putain de con!" means "goddammit to hell!" I'm so using that next time I stub my toe in front of the kiddo!