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"In the tradition of M.F.K. Fisher, Laurie Colwin, and Ruth Reichl, [this book] is a narrative in which food--eating it, cooking it, reflecting on it--becomes the vehicle for unpacking a life. Christensen explores her history of hunger--not just for food but for love and confidence and a sense of belonging--with a profound honesty, starting with her unorthodox childhood in 1960s Berkeley as the daughter of a mercurial legal activist who ruled the house with his fists"--Dust jacket flap. A mouthwatering literary memoir about an unusual upbringing and the long, winding path to happiness. For Christensen, food and eating have always been powerful connectors to self and world. In this passionate feast of a memoir she reflects upon her journey of innocence lost and wisdom gained, mistakes made and lessons learned, and hearts broken and mended. And food-- eating it, cooking it, reflecting on it-- becomes the vehicle for unpacking a life.… (more)
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I found it interesting that the book starts and ends with memories of her father. As close a bond and connection she feels with her mother, the enigma that is her father is the one that most seems to define her. When, as a two year old, she raises her hands to her parents and says, “Comfort me,” - “There they were, my parents, comforting me. The memory is one of the nicest ones I have of my father. There he was, being a father, just for a moment. I had to ask him to, in the spirit of curiosity about a word, but he complied. I have always kept this memory in the mental equivalent of a velvet box at the back of a top shelf in a closet, where rare things are hidden so no one steals of breaks them.”
Christensen’s descriptions of the people in her life, of relationships and the dynamics of family struck the deepest chords. “We all shared the same old jokes. We were a little rusty with Emily, and she with us, but only at first. The habits of being in a family are deep and ingrained. Over the decades, during all of the rifts and schisms and confrontations and silences and offenses and resentments, something had been at work, a strong undertow of love, in all of us.”
There is a great deal of heartache and anger and depression and uncertainty in Christensen’s life, but through that, and through a great deal of joy as well, she comes to know herself well and appreciate the journey. “Everything that has ever happened to me – every meal I’ve ever eaten, every person I’ve loved or hated, every book I’ve read or written, every song I’ve heard or sung – is all still with me, magnetically adhering to my cells.”
And the thread of food, and her relationship with it, is the undercurrent that moves this story along, the constant rhythm that accompanies her journey. She describes it well, tying in the memories and senses that accompany each recipe. “We ate at a homey old Italian place in Williamsburg called Milo’s whose owners, and ancient Italian couple, tottered around serving two-dollar beers and rustic red wine along with mounded plates of cheap, homemade spaghetti with meatballs; we always dared each other to order the half goat’s head, but we never did. I inhaled all this food; I would have rolled around in it if such a thing had been possible.”
“Blue Plate Special” was a wonderfully emotional and evocative book, and inspires me to experience some of the other books written by this talented author.
by
Kate Christensen
This is Kate's story. I wanted to read a book that was a memoir but wasn't a boring memoir. I am not a huge fan of memoir. But Kate's life had so many twists and turns and highs and lows that it read as though it was not a memoir and that appealed to me. I
I loved learning interesting and often sad and humbling things about her life. Her mother was lovely yet depressed. Kate adored her father until he began to cruelly beat her mother. Her mother made life as lively as she could for Kate and her sisters. Lots of their memories were of the places they lived and the foods they ate. I loved that her mother didn't like junk food. I loved that her mother fed them creatively. I loved the way Kate would eat graham crackers and drink milk straight from the carton. This family lived everywhere...from California to Arizona to the East Coast. Food seemed to be a unique part of their memories and travels.
This book was extremely interesting. These girls were amazing survivors. They lived through marriages and break ups and being poor and not seeing their father for years and years. I loved the recipes scattered at the ends of some chapters. I loved learning about Kate and the processes she used to become an author. I loved her way with food. I am craving the burritos that she practically lived on and the tapioca that her mom made
them when they were little.
Final thoughts...
I found this book to be very appealing. It was the story of a family with all of its flaws. It felt real and true and honest. I thoroughly enjoyed it. I loved that she titled this book Blue Plate Special...based on a family tradition started by her mom.
It's very readable, and well-written with that as a criterion. The subtitle- "An Autobiogrpahy of My Appetites" is appropriate; her main appetites are food, lust, and writing. Christensen has lead a very eventful life, and her accounts of it are
However- as she got older, but emphatically refused to gain insight into the same aspects of her life that were making her miserable, I grew impatient. Every new love is her Forever Soulmate!!!! until it blows up, of course. She seems like the sort of difficult person who enjoys being difficult; even as it makes her miserable, she will not consider another approach. She's stuck- and thus so are we, the readers.
The food writing- which I read this for- is excellent, and I am going to try several of the recipes.
She does talk about food throughout the book, and in a sometimes forced manner, adds recipes, but no, it's not at all like reading Ruth Reichl or Julia Child or Molly Wizenberg.
If you were looking for a book that turns on food, this is not that book. If you were looking for a action-packed literary memoir where the author thinks fondly of food while she's starving herself, then this is an excellent choice.
I have a lot in common with Kate. I can remember feeling exactly like her when, at seven years old, the best present in the world was to have a space, separate from the house, in which to hide from the world; a place to call my own. Another similarity was when she shared that she salivated at the thought of the breakfasts in Little House on the Prairie. I, too, had food envy.
There were a lot of unexpected aha moments while reading Blue Plate. It is strange how the trauma of events in childhood can inform decisions in adulthood without us knowing how or why.