Cooking With Ideas

Diva Delights: Krista Davis Murder Mystery

I love the word: diva. It is just a swell word. So, when I saw a murder mystery entitled The Diva Takes the Cake, well, I had to buy it. Diva and food. Hurrah. Authored by Krista Davis, this is her second Prime Crime title. (The first was The Diva Runs Out of Thyme). Oh those punny punny titles. (I think it is thyme to stop is with the puns, but hey, I keep reading and reviewing books with titles like this so who am I to complain?) Her website is called Domestic Diva Mysteries. And, of course, it features a big picture of the cover of The Diva Takes the Cake. The picture of the cover here  comes from www.booksonboard.com and so a big Bibliochef thanks to them.

So, I have read a lot of these books by now, and lots of them disappoint. The food (and recipes) are just there to pull a reader in and have nothing to do with the mystery itself. (This unlike some old favorites like Peter King;s Gourmet detective series.) While Davis' book is similar, it is a pretty good mystery and not a bad read. There is a sort of bride-zilla theme running throughout, complete with an ex-fiance and a current groom to be, some Southern posturing (southern United States that is; the book is set in Old Alexandria, Virginia), and an array of oddballs completing the cast. Like some others in the genre, the chapters open with epigrams from fake material authored by characters in the book. And the last few pages are recipes -- including pulled pork and beer bottom chicken. (I feel like a louse; I have absolutely never made anything from teh recipes in all these mysteries. Have you?)

As for the mystery itself, it begins with a body and ends with a solution -- not surprising given the genre! And there are loads of mistaken solutions between start and finish. The oh-so-requireds heterosexual romance(s) are not too distracting and sometimes even funny. And the sibling relationship that forms the center of the plot (no this is not a spoiler) is itself worth pondering (at least if you have a sister). Sophie, the amateur detective type, is a little self-aggrandizing-feeling, though likeable. And she's just the right mix of utterly clueless and smart. The actual solution is a bit far fetched, actually, and can feel like it comes out of the blue -- but meanwhile I was distracted into an ejoyable romp.

Krista Davis is a sort of dog and cat kinda author, and includes a few pet types in her book. (Do not think of them as characters; think of them as occasional cameos). For an "interview" with her Golden Retriever, Queenie, on petsandauthors click here.

For information on a context Davis is hosting in celebration of the release of the book, click here -- or check Davis's own site. Hurry, the contest winners will be announced July 4.

For a bit on the word diva, click here. And for an even better idea, click here for Europe's big lesbian manazgine called Diva! (Not that I think this has anything at all to do with Davis's book. Just one of those associations that, well, the web allows. Have fun!)

Outland-ish Murder

Orland Outland writes outlandish seeming murder mysteries. They are not really outlandish -- I just wanted to do the play on his name! Anyway, one of the characters, Doan, is a guy (not a drag queen, not an mtf, just a gay guy) wears dresses. So, for some of you out there is mainland USA, perhaps a little out there. Anyway, I was pawing through the shelves desperate for a murder mystery and re-read this one: Death Wore the Emperor's New Clothes. Want to know what else he wrote? Click here. I suggest this because this particular gay author is sort of hard to find on the web. Odd, eh? He has written fiction and nonfiction, and seems to have an odd name -- and then, voila, there are others with that name?

One reason I like these mysteries is because of the name "BInky," here a Connecticut (recovering from) woman. My father's nickname was Binky. Weird. The other reason is because Binky's friend, Doan, is a shopaholic who buys kitchen stuff. So, the start of this mystery goes like this: "Doan moved through Williams Sonoma with the practiced air of a professoional chef. He glided past the big-ticket items, the best of which he'd already acquired -- the copper pots and pans from france, the knives from Germany, the Mixmaster -- and lingered over the little items, another one of which always seemed to be needed to put the finishing touches on his kitchen. He admired the Swiss melon ballers, the silver tea infuser. . . 'Ooh!' he said out loud, admiring a platinum vegetable peeler." (p. 1).

Yes, a platininum vegetable peeler. Silly, over the top, and critical -- just like the book, which features a wealthy (very) out gay man who does good with his money and has been out all along, a pair of friends and their partners (one of the pairs is heterosexual and the other gay men. . . hmmm, no lesbians?), some not-so-subtle trashing of Rupert Murdoch under a different name, a bit of critique of infomercial self-help culture, a soupcon of computer hacking, some fashion forward fascination, and related politics all tied together in a big, fun, campy (though Outland himself does not like camp and . . . ) murder mystery. Set in NYC, there are also some snide and not-so-snide comparisons between the Big Apple and the city with the Golden Gate.

All in all a romp with food just a tiny bit of a side dish to the real dishing. . . .

For a review elsewhere, click here. And want to check out a bit of a book on gay murder mysteries? Click here.  The book even outs the people on whom some characters are based. . . Maybe I better buy it!

A New Geneva Challenge and More

Ok, click here -- just go it -- you'll see why! It's a contest. Don;t care about Geneva, NY? Well, then do not click. BUt for those of you who do. . . . and ever go to the Farmer's Market, this one's for you. for a hint: think Slice, Dice and Spice New York!

For other local events, click here.

How Long is a Century?

The Century House is a restaurant in Latham NY where I ate recently. And yes, I know, I know, a century is a hundred years. The restaurant is actually only 60 years old. Hmmm. Their history, though, traces back much further than a hundred years -- to 1790 purchse of the land by Stephen van Rensselear. Despite being recommended to it l;ate at night after a long drive and expecting it to be only adequate, it was very good. I would definitely return.

What did I eat while reading my book (and the wait staff graciously increasing the lighting without being asked)? I was tempted by all sorts of possibilities, including a trio of three local cheeses, but actually had two other appetizers. I had the pan fried gnocchi, which comes with a nice gorgonzola cream sauce. They were very good -- a bit browned in teh clarified butter. (Cost: $8) I followed this with jumbo lump crab cakes, which were absolutely swell. ($15) To drink? A bottle of flat Saratoga water ($3); i just LOVE the blue bottle and so am always tempted. I also had two glasses (okay, one too many) of a nice Rex Goliath Pinot Noir, totaling $17.50. So, the meal was reasonably priced. The ambience was a sort of cozy, dark, business-y -- and I really liked it. It was a cell-free zone, too, which was nice for a change. 

I am, of course, a fan of gnocchi. These were light, and pretty evenly browned and very potato tasting. Unlike my former (and, ok, I still rate them highest), these did not come with pancetta or any other meat. But they were darn good and the gorgonzola might (just might) have trumped the Parmesan. Plus, my fave Henry B's in Seneca Falls is closed while they work out their new place in Rochester. Alas. (For a tiny bit of news on the new place, see here.)

All in all, I liked it a lot. I wish I had not been so tired and had dessert! Maybe next time.

Location: 997 New Loudon Road, Route 9, Latham, NY 12110

Phone: 518-785-0834

Website: www.thecenturyhouse.com

What's German about Canandaigua?

My first impulse to the opening question is to say "Absolutely nothing. Nada. Zip. There is nothing German about Canandaigua. It's some sort of Native American word, labeling the county seat for Ontario County, New York. It's one of the Finger Lakes. There is nothing -- zip -- nada -- nothing German about it." And, as usual, I would be wrong. So, what's German about Canandaigua?

A restaurant, Rheinblick by name, which is new to me. (It is actually more than a year old.) Right there on Main Street, this little place is not flashy, but it is definitely -- most definitely -- worth a visit. (I noticed driving by that it also sometimes has a beer garden. Well, it looks more like a beer alley, but still. . . on their blog it notes that they had a "beer garden ribbon cutting ceremony" recently!) Rheinblick is a very good restaurant, and serves food that is somewhat unusual for our area. (For those of you thinking Dano's -- well, related but definitely not the same.) Owned by Gary and Gudrun Klemens, the menu required some interpretation for me but once the plates arrived -- well, everything disappeared quite quickly.

I ordered Geschnetzeltes, described as "a pork stew with a piquant paprika sauce served over spatzle." The people with me had "Schweinebraten mit rotkohl und spatzle" (which is a pork dish with red cabbage and spatzle) and, I think, a shnitzel. The salads that came with the entrees had a light cream dressing that was quite tasty. We spent some time on beer, comparing each one we ordered and concluding in favor of the one I chose: all of which has, alas, faded in memory so my choosing will have to start all over when I go again! I can say this: the array of beers is quite good, representing a variety of draft and bottled German offerings every one of which I had never heard of before. (They also serve wine, including a few German whites.) The desserts though -- wow -- I had a linzer torte which was clearly made in house and was quite good. Our party also ordered a bee sting cake (aka Bienenstich) which was a custard filled honey cake (not my favorite) and (again, memory is fading) I think a black forest cake.

The service was quite good, except for a minor moment when we wanted decaffeinated coffee with our dessert and heard discussion at the rear of the restaurant over whether to bother making a whole new pot. Yes, they eventually did -- but hey, why even discuss it? The coffee, of course, was the perfect accomaniment for our desserts and we left quite happy.

For reviews of Rheinblick, check out their blog site, where they list two (one from "Rochester City Newspaper" and one from the "Democrat and Chronicle.") For an interesting discussion of the restaurant, with quite dissimilar views expressed by various commenters, try here.

Location: 24 Main Street, Canandaigua, NY

Phone: 585-905-0950

Human as Pyromaniac: Have You Been Playing with Matches?

Catching Fire is a nonfiction book by Richard Wrangham. (He even has a wikipedia page on him.) It is not about pyromaniacs. (Thanks, by the way to www.obit-mag.com for the picture of fire!) Nor is it about playing with matches. It is about the entanglement of evolution with cooking. Wrangham is a scientist -- and a Harvard scientist at that -- who brings a wealth of knowledge about apes (chimps and others) as well as other material to his thesis.  (According to the bio on the back flap, Wrangham is the "Ruth Moore Professor of Biological Anthropology at Harvard University, Curator of Primate Behavioral Biology at the Peabody Museum and Director of the Kibale Chimpanzee Project in Uganda.")

And yes, this 2009 book is about the hunting males and the foraging female in some sense. (After all, he co-authored Demonic Males and co-edited Sexual Coercion in Primates.) Wrangham even attributes the origin of a gender-based division of labor to the invention of cooking. Why? Without cooking, males would not have enough TIME to hunt because, like their ape relatives, they would have had to spend the vast majority of their time CHEWING. Why did they have to spend so much time chewing? Because their food was uncooked and therefore was harder and therefore. . . (If you really care, check out the 1996 article "Biological Aspects of Meat Toughness" by E. Tornberg in the journal Meat Science.) In all this, Wrangham differs from Levi-Strauss, in The Raw and the Cooked (which I have not read but want to . . Levi-Strauss's book argues that first came the hunter (and meat eating) and then came cooking). Wrangham thinks the famed anthropologist had the order backwards. (And this despite the anthropologist's longevity; click here for an NPR report on his 100th birthday in 2008.) Wrangham's book draws, as well, on data showing that folks who eat only raw food have trouble maintaining their weight (and this despite their argument that what they are doing is "natural" and the weight loss is also the case even when the number of calories is held constant in comparisons of cooked-food-eaters and raw-food-eaters). Also of interest are various anatomical features of humans which support Wrangham's thesis (or, as he labels it, hypothesis); teeth, for example, the relative proportion of our body devoted to digestion (low compared to related animals who do not cook), the relative size of our brains (high relative to related animals who do not cook), etcetera. (He notes, too, the negative impact of raw food diets on the capacity to reproduce. . . ) All of this happened circa 2 million or so years ago in Wrangham's argument. Like Darwin, he points to the crucial role of fire; unlike Darwin, he places its transformative imact substantially earlier in human evolution.

The book's subtitle is "How Cooking Made us Human" and so the theme includes shifts from various pre-human hominids to truly human beings. I am out of date so was unfamiliar with some of the stages in the transformation and the dating of all this, but he's pretty clear in his text. Wrangham argues that humans became human when we discovered (and harnessed) fire (and so there to Freud with his emphasis on controlling fire by urinating on it). What I noticed, in part, that made me take Wrangham seriously as a totally clueless person was his citation of feminists (e.g., Kate Millett) and his analysis not just of a "sexual division of labor" but of the inequalities constructed thereby.

Of course, the chapters entitled "How Cooking Frees Men" and "The Married Cook" are Wrangham's entries into the troubled terrain of the history of gendered divisions of labor -- and thus of the history (and origins) of sexism. (In fact, a customer review at amazon.com (dated June 9, 2009) claims that Wrangham "indulges" in academic feminism in some of his claims. I simply think he shows smarts when he does so.) His views make some attempt to disentangle cultural from biological evolution (insofar as that is even imagineable) and definitely see male as hunter as following from  the invention of cooking.The relative roles of female and male food provision, the near universality of women as cooks, and related matters are key to his thesis. So too is the nearly humanity-defining notion that partners share what they find in the way of food. Cooking, he claims, made us human (and social, and intelligent and. . . ) rather than vice versa.

I liked this book. I found it accessible to a nonspecialist and intriguing. It is well written, well documented, and my only complaint -- for a hardback which cost a lot a bit short!  I even intend to re-read it. Which, I guess, makes it worth it! And, I recommended Catching Fire to a friend who teaches in related areas. Turns out she knows Wrangham's work. Was I the only one who did not?

For a Q and A with Wrangham in Scientific American, click here. And for a review in Slate's very own food issue, click here. On The Raw and the Cooked, see, for example, this piece which draws on Levi-Strauss's conceptualization in a discussion of Decameron.

Gay Murder -- On the Menu

In my imagination, those old pulps always had gay victims. We knew we'd made it when some of the victims were straight. Then, I thought, well, all the murderers are gay; we're back to homophobia-land. Remember all that stupid stuff about John Wayne Gacy? While I do not have the sequence anywhere near right, and if there is a sequence at all I would undoubtedly state it in overly-simplistic ways, I do know this: I like it when the detective is lesbian, gay or. . . queer. Yep, there's a whole genre, including Ellen Hart and others who have crossed over into supermarkets -- and folks like Patricia Cornwell who, gasp, . . . . well, you know. . . includes a character? All those animals in Rita Mae Brown's "Sneaky Pie Brown" series -- well, they seem to show no clue at all that the author's fame arose in part from her lesbian classic, Rubyfruit Jungle. Now, the lesbian mystery genre includes noir and cozy, and the genre has been the mainstay of some lesbian presses established in the 1970s.

So, what does this have to do with Amuse Bouche by Anthony Bidulka? The sleuth is a gay man, single, and the mystery includes gay (and lesbian) characters. While not as food oriented as its title might imply, it's a well written and interesting book, with a plot that kept me reading and writing that moved along, and another hook for me: it is written by a Canadian -- and set above the 49th. In particular, Bidulka lives in Saskatoon and the novel is set there. While (as already said) food does not play a central role in the mystery -- or the novel -- there is a humorous moment when the sleuth (Russell Quant) learns what an amuse bouche is. (Not sure? Click here.) Since the plot jumps between Saskatoon and various locales in France, and the cast of characters includes people representing a variety of class backgrounds (with some supposedly high-falutin' rich types), foodie references serve as identifiers here and there. There is about as much techie start up company stuff as atmosphere, setting and plot device as there is foodie, but not annoyingly so. All in all, Amuse Bouche is much better than a bad mystery with loads of foodie things, including recipes. Put another way, while it was the title that got me to buy it, it was much much more that kept me reading. While occasionally a bit arch, Quant (the sleuth) is well characterized as are most others. And the mystery is both poignant, relevant, and a bit goofy. For all you marriage-equality typed, it doesn't spoil the mystery to say you might find this worth a gander.  I can't say more without spoiling the plot, so, I say, read it.

As a side note, this is the first of a series. Bidulka, I learned via the web, won a Lamdba for his 2004 book entitled Flight of Aquavit (and has at least one other with a food note in the title -- Tapas on the Ramblas).

What Have You Been Reading Lately?

So, watch right here for reviews of a whole raft of books I have read lately. And thanks to etc.usf.edu for the picture of, yes, you got it, a raft, though not a raft of books. Here are some books for which reviews are coming up in the next little while:

Anthony Bidulka's Amuse Bouche (and yes, there is a bit of food and murder in this, subtitled A Russell Quant Mystery). It is the first in a series and set in Saskatoon (above the 49th).

Nicole Mones' The Last Chinese Chef, which is not at all a mystery but definitely a novel and definitely foodie oriented

Catching Fire by Richard Wrangham --the only non-fiction entry in this list -- which includes a full blown explanation for the origin of gender-based division of labor (and  he definitely does not does not agree with Claude Levi-Strauss). For a list of things by Wrangham, try here -- and for a Q and A with him, here. Yes, the latter is from Scientific American. And, unrelatedly, totally unrelatedly, it seems Levi-Strauss, according to the web, is alive. At 100. Hmmmm.

Places I Have Eaten Lately

I was above the 49th recently for a variety of reasons and, yes, I ate. (Above the 49th, you ask? That means: I was in Canada. Thans, by the way, to mapsofworld.com for the picture!) Anyway, I wandered through the Byward Market in Ottawa and purchased some lovely terrines (rabbit with hazelnut -- or was it pistachios?) as well as quail and pork with pear) and cheeses. Yep, cheeses from an international cheese place (as well as from a small place in the Gatineau). I also bought mustard and cornichons, crackers and. . . But I also ate in restaurants both in Ottawa and Montreal.  Here are a few comments on some of them:

Domus -- this trip, we almost did not make it to Domus, one of our regular spots, because we were having so many nice adventures in eating and in visiting Ottawa. We were off our usual routine. But, then, at almost the last minute, we decided to stop at Domus for lunch. I was hoping, I confess, for asparagus soup or ramp soup, but the soup of the day was a tomato concoction, something which I never really want to order. So, no soup this time, but very good lentil dal with chorizo. I had my usual 3 truffles for dessert. (For previous mentions of Domus here at Cooking with Ideas, click here or here.)

Black Cat Bistro -- this is a return of an Ottawa favorite of year's ago, where I had never been. The ambience was great, the food delightful, and the service amazing. Indeed, we had the son of the former owner (and now the returned owner. I had a sort of fancy reese's dessert: chocolate and peanut butter. Mmmm. Before that we had venison carpaccio and my fave: local asparagus salad.

Murray Street -- ok, this is one of our newer faves (and not just because they link to a previous review of their food here at Cooking with Ideas). It was cold and rainy, and there was a private party, which meant the only place to eat was out back. Thank god/dess they had a heater; despite the walk down the alley past the trash, not all together appetizing, the meal was worth it. We had: venison terrine, duck liver mousse, elk sausage; two cheeses; and pork belly in some sort of sauce. The pork belly was absolutely great. The duck liver mousse smooth.

Montreal: On a whim, off we went. (Thanks, by way, to genealogyforum.rootsweb.com for the flag!) The concierge sent us off to a restaurant in Old Montreal called Bonaparte where I had sole Meurniere, plated in a beautiful way and served with very nice vegetables as well as a creme caramel. I had a bit of a taste of the duck confit; I agree -- the best duck confit ever. A quiet and traditional setting, the wine I had was only ok (I went with the wine by the glass suggested by the waiter-- a chardonnay, which is not usually my choice).  For Fodor's reviews, click here or for some other reviews, click here.

Eating Heaven

Death and food seem to me to both be primal topics. Both bring out the very very personal -- and as a culture we are simultaneously talking about these two topics constantly and avoiding their primal qualities. In my experience, when someone we love is dying, food becomes peculiarly salient. We hate it. We love it. It all tastes like mush. Can't get enough. Cafeteria food in hospitals. New-fangled high calorie shakes meant to help folks keep their weight up. Food and dying. Not the same as food and grief (and all those casseroles people seem to feel compelled to bring over). Not the inverse of one another, with food equaling life and . . . empty stomachs signifying (or signified by) death. A complex tango of primal concerns.

For me, despite the marketing of the book as chick lit in some ways, Jennie Shortridge's Eating Heaven is one of the most accurate representations of caring for a loved one who is dying I have read in ages. Okay, it is no A Very Easy Death (Simone de Beauvoir) but it catches much of the painful reality faced when the intimacies of approaching death replace the distance (and intimacies) of familial relations spoken and unspoken. While it sounds a bit trite to entangle eating disorders, adultery, the search for romance, adopting a new cat, writing not-so-great cooking journalism, and death, perhaps that's just what life is filled with -- the weird interaction of the trite with the profound.Here we find the avoidance of the very deeply embodied changes associated with dying, the ways humor seems so critical a part of one's humanity to retain, the loneliness of the caretaker, the wrenching debilitation of loss, and the ways the loss of one person transforms a world of interrelations. Here we find the univeral pain of "I think I do not need to have X -- or do Y -- again" as a statement of both the pleasure of living and the recognition that a time has come (or will come for us all) when we do something for the last time and know that is the case.

I sound sloppy and sentimental -- and I am resisting writing more personally. But, this book is not sloppy, nor is it sentimental. I just recognized something in it. Perhaps you will too. If not, the characters are entertaining, and the writing slips you right into a world you may someday meet in real life. And you might even smile at the * ways to make casserole lighter, the 7 ways to do holiday feasts, the. . . ways numbers fool us all.