Blood, Bones, and Butter

Blood Bones ButterGabrielle Hamilton’s Blood, Bones and Butter: The Inadvertent Education of a Reluctant Chef is near perfect, in my mind, when it comes to food-writing and memoir. This has so many things I love in a book, but mainly that it’s by a smart, ferocious lady who has a tendency to associate love with eating.

The sections of the book—how family weirdness shapes us as young people (Blood), how food experiences settle in the psyche (Bones), and how these things combine to form the dysfunctional and/or successful adults we become (Butter)—are introduced with a fervent honesty and frankness that is at times surprising.

Hamilton is a kitchen boss at heart, musing on her torpid personal life while building New York’s Prune to be the well-loved, eclectic institution it has been for the past 15 years—now cemented as one of the city’s favourite brunches (the service for which Hamilton affectionately refers to as “a shitshow”). There’s wicked candour in descriptions about her personal relationships, and an unapologetic tinge that could make those with overtly traditional ideas about marriage a bit squirmy. One friend thought the book was “kinda sad”, another described it as “hilarious and frustrating.”

Best bits: Off the top, there’s the slightly surreal and drool-inducing set-up in describing her father’s famed annual party, complete with full pig roast and performance artist roster. Next is the simple, intoxicating egg and toast she receives from her Greek host while traveling alone as a not-quite adult; this is a formative moment in her path to becoming a chef. Finally, her endearing love for her Italian mother-in-law, who does not speak English, but is an unexpected source of strength and softness for the otherwise hardened Hamilton. It’s the Nona bits that fuel the waterworks for me.

Old Stars Die Hard

YMRT-CleanThis week’s recommendation isn’t a book, but a podcast that will quickly fill out your reading and films-to-see lists. You Must Remember This was my #1 podcast discovery of 2015 (and I’m still getting through the backlog of episodes, some of them more than once). Much to my partner’s chagrin, this ‘cast has been playing in my kitchen nonstop every night during dinner prep since I first heard about** Karina Longworth‘s fascinating and well-researched take on the early days of the American film industry.

Billed as “the podcast dedicated to exploring the secret and/or forgotten histories of Hollywood’s first century,” You Must Remember This provides hours upon hours of stories about film’s greatest stars rising, getting tarnished, fading away, and—rarely—how they come to shine brightly again. Longworth’s depth of coverage is astounding, and her narrative interjections about the old studio system and celebrity culture are sharp, particularly on how the golden days treated its female stars. Better yet, each episode is paired with notes on the podcast’s Episode Notes page (this is where you get your reading and film recommendations, though if you’re not chopping onions you could probably take notes while listening).

Favourite Eps: The Carole Lombard & Clark Gable Episode. I cried like a baby. Just listen.
Buster Keaton’s Biggest Mistake. How the whip-smart silent film star fell. Hard.
And: All of the MGM Stories series. A 15-episode divergence on how Louis B. Mayer made a studio, generally destroying lives along the way, and ended up getting canned from it as Hollywood’s golden age wound down. Enjoy.

* I first heard Karina Longworth on Longform, another great podcast; this one features interviews with nonfiction writers and journalists. More on Longform some other time, but the link here is to the episode with Longworth. Immediately after the episode I went straight to You Must Remember This and I haven’t stopped since.

 

 

resolutions

After a few requests from friends on the “what I’m reading” front, I am going to start the habit of posting book recommendations here. Be warned: I tend toward nonfiction (new and old), female writers, literary journalism, and dark humour. Also classic sci-fi. The Russians tend to pop up, too. Oh, who am I kidding? I read anything.

Tharp HabitFirst up in 2016—and to celebrate this new habit of mine—I’m recommending Twyla Tharp’s The Creative Habit . Tharp is one of the past century’s most prolific and well-known choreographers, has worked with countless other (quite famous) artists and creators, and has a penchant for no-nonsense creative practice. She followed The Creative Habit up with The Collaborative Habit in 2009, and now at 74 years of age, continues to create dance today.

Best parts: The comfort of Ritual in daily work, the one-box-per-project approach, and the incredible crash-course on American dance history that she shares—somewhat incidentally—while detailing her own habits, projects, and collaborations. She talks about how her Billy Joel show, Movin’ Out, was challenged by early reviews of preview performances (the gall!), her work on Amadeus with Miloš Forman, and a life’s worth of tidbits from working with Martha Graham, Merce Cunningham, and Paul Taylor.  It’s a behind-the-process peek for the dance aficionado, and a worthy treatise on just how to keep the creative juices flowing for 50+ years.