Reichl, Ruth - Tender at the Bone: Growing Up at the Table

[oyceter]

Ruth Reichl grew up with a mother who routinely poisoned most of the people she fed, with the exception of her family, who developed iron stomachs as a defense. Possibly because of the need to survive, Reichl eventually learned to cook, and later went on to become a famous New York Times restaurant reviewer and the current editor of Gourmet magazine.

I've actually read her follow-up to this, Comfort Me With Apples, so it was interesting reading this one, knowing all the while where she would end up when the book stopped.

Possibly I read this while not in the best of moods, because I got rather bored during the talks of her own life, which don't quite link up as well with the food writing as I would like. Part of this may also be because I have already read her other book, which had a very similar format. To be honest, while I like Reichl as a food writer, watching her stumble into Berkeley hippiedom or in and out of an interesting relationship with her black roommate in the seventies, I wanted to go back to the food more.

It was particularly odd having a fairly constant look at race in America in the 60s through several chapters; Reichl never quite goes in depth, but it's so very present. And she addresses it as well, but then it ends up simply dropping out of the narrative.

On the other hand, the food totally made the read worth it. I love any time Reichl talks about food, from her bipolar mother's disastrous attempts at cooking to her first taste of fried oysters, salty and silky. I love when she goes home with a schoolmate while studying French in Montreal, only to find that her schoolmate's father is a foodie extraordinaire. He introduces her to foie gras and good cheese and caviar and all the pleasures of the fancy table, and I nearly drooled every time they had dinner.

I did wish that I had a slightly better sense of how exactly Reichl cooked; she goes into how she started cooking and how she eventually just started feeding everyone in her life, but I wanted even more minutiae of the world of the kitchen. I wanted to know how she deciphered recipes, how she made modifications, random kitchen mishaps and the like.

All in all, it was a fun, mouth-watering read, though I'd prefer a little more of the food and a little less of the personal details.

Comments

[gwyneira.livejournal.com]

I'd prefer a little more of the food and a little less of the personal details.

That's really interesting, because that's exactly how I felt about Comfort Me with Apples, which I read after Tender at the Bone. I think you're right that the two books have a similar format, which makes them a little...repetitive? or something when you've read them both.

She does do amazing food descriptions, though. I loved the Montreal part especially.

[oyceter]

I suspect I would have felt more irked at the personal stuff in Comfort Me with Apples and happier with the balance of Tender at the Bone if I had read them in the order they were published in!

The Montreal part! I wish I had friends with parents like that.

[wemblee.livejournal.com]

Ruth Reichl grew up with a mother who routinely poisoned most of the people she fed, with the exception of her family,

On... purpose? O_O

[oyceter]

Hee! Alas, no, though that would make for an awesome manga. Her mom just a) couldn't cook, b) routinely bought cheap stuff on sale (aka, misshapen cans and stuff) and c) didn't think mold hurt that much.

[rachelmanija.livejournal.com]

The story about the party where everyone got food poisoning and the party favors were anti-nuclear hand-outs cracked me up. I think the non-food-related personal anecdotes must not have interested me at all, because the only personal bits I recall are the directly food-related ones, like the friend's foodie father and the poisoning bipolar mother.

[oyceter]

I loved that part!

Most of what I remember is the foodie stuff too; I think Reichl tries to tackle things like being radical in the sixties and race but doesn't succeed as well with those.

[loligo.livejournal.com]

I keep meaning to read this book. My mom was Reichl's college housemate for a year, but she's not in the book directly: she and another of their housemates from that year got sort of collapsed into one fictionalized person.

My mom's comment on the book: "She didn't tell the story about how her giant bouffant wig saved her life in a moped accident!"

[oyceter]

Oh, cool!

I want to hear that story now.