Call number
Collection
Publication
Pages
Description
Biography & Autobiography. Cooking & Food. Travel. Nonfiction. HTML:NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER � NAMED ONE OF THE BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR BY NPR � Entertainment Weekly � Kirkus Reviews � The Christian Science Monitor In the picturesque village of Guzm�n, Spain, in a cave dug into a hillside on the edge of town, an ancient door leads to a cramped limestone chamber known as �the telling room.� Containing nothing but a wooden table and two benches, this is where villagers have gathered for centuries to share their stories and secrets�usually accompanied by copious amounts of wine. It was here, in the summer of 2000, that Michael Paterniti found himself listening to a larger-than-life Spanish cheesemaker named Ambrosio Molinos de las Heras as he spun an odd and compelling tale about a piece of cheese. An unusual piece of cheese. Made from an old family recipe, Ambrosio�s cheese was reputed to be among the finest in the world, and was said to hold mystical qualities. Eating it, some claimed, conjured long-lost memories. But then, Ambrosio said, things had gone horribly wrong. . . . By the time the two men exited the telling room that evening, Paterniti was hooked. Soon he was fully embroiled in village life, relocating his young family to Guzm�n in order to chase the truth about this cheese and explore the fairy tale�like place where the villagers conversed with farm animals, lived by an ancient Castilian code of honor, and made their wine and food by hand, from the grapes growing on a nearby hill and the flocks of sheep floating over the Meseta. What Paterniti ultimately discovers there in the highlands of Castile is nothing like the idyllic slow-food fable he first imagined. Instead, he�s sucked into the heart of an unfolding mystery, a blood feud that includes accusations of betrayal and theft, death threats, and a murder plot. As the village begins to spill its long-held secrets, Paterniti finds himself implicated in the very story he is writing. Equal parts mystery and memoir, travelogue and history, The Telling Room is an astonishing work of literary nonfiction by one of our most accomplished storytellers. A moving exploration of happiness, friendship, and betrayal, The Telling Room introduces us to Ambrosio Molinos de las Heras, an unforgettable real-life literary hero, while also holding a mirror up to the world, fully alive to the power of stories that define and sustain us. Praise for The Telling Room �Captivating . . . Paterniti�s writing sings, whether he�s talking about how food activates memory, or the joys of watching his children grow.��NPR.… (more)
Media reviews
Awards
Language
Original language
Physical description
ISBN
Similar in this library
User reviews
In [The Telling Room: A Tale of Love, Betrayal, Revenge and the World's Greatest Piece of Cheese] the author, [[Michael Paterniti]], shares with us tales from a small Spanish village that has had worldwide impact. His 10 year odyssey is triggered while working at an Ann Arbor deli, as he becomes fascinated by the world's greatest piece of cheese, Páramo de Guzmán, a famous hard sheeps milk cheese made in a small Castile village in north central Spain. His fascination eventually leads him to the village to meet the cheese's maker, the fabulous, larger than life storyteller Ambrosio. As Ambrosio spins his tales and shares his philosophy of life in the telling room, we learn he has been the victim of a terrible betrayal, which has filled him with a lust for revenge but hasn't dampened his voracious appetite for life.
His family, like others, makes its own cheese, its own wine. "Ambrosio had a memory of eating his family's cheese as a child, and even now could conjure its sharp tang and the images associated with it: his mother's kitchen, with its gas fires and simmering pots of milk, and the bodega shelves where it was stored - in each case surrounded by people, warmth, the past. As he understood it, the family cheese had been made for so long there'd never been a written recipe." After many failures, he combines all the necessary aspects to recreate that cheese, and it begins to "star at agricultural fairs", then to win awards in Spain, then international awards, and in time became so highly sought after it even turns up across the world in the gourmetAnn Arbor deli Zingerman's. All the while Ambrosio is preaching his gospel of slow eating, avoiding processed, industrialized food, and observing the "old ways." "Perhaps in the United States you don't know what it's like to have old flavors, flavors from the past, from centuries before. But we live with them every day here."
The author becomes understandably infatuated with Ambrosio, and eventually convinces his wife to move with his small children temporarily to Guzmán. Soon they also are captivated by Ambrosio and the village. "{T}here was no TV, no house projects, fickle cellphone coverage, and it took forty-five minutes to reach an Internet cafe. Without all the distractions, we quickly became reacquainted with each other, taking long walks, lingering over meals, sharing observations or delighting in some little thing our kids did . . ." Paterniti, however, struggles to complete the book, as one story after another carries him away into intoxicating digressions. The book is filled with wonderful footnotes, many humorous, about local and Spanish history and the author's travails. One of my favorites involves his tongue in cheek supposed lack of curiosity about a mysterious tattoo on his wife's ankle, the meaning of which she has sworn, along with other members of her girl gang, not to disclose. Another involves the author being reminded, while standing in a huge field of sunflowers, of a ridiculous Peter Gabriel performance. When Gabriel, without telling his band, took the stage as "Flower Man - floppy petals framing his pale, painted face" one of his laconic bandmates, upon seeing Gabriel "creeping on stage with his flute" simply said, "Oh, bloody hell."
Will the world's greatest piece of cheese be saved? Will Ambrosio get his revenge? Will [[Paterniti]] finish the book? Oh yeah, we know the answer to the last one. He did finish it, and it's a treat to read.
The story is about cheese. Not just any cheese, but the best and most perfect cheese. A love story about a place, a way of life, a family and a man. A particular and compelling man. A man who made cheese and who was himself a storyteller. But no, it's a story about two families, two storytellers and two ways of life. Two stories that somehow became one. Or perhaps they were simply entwined with one another. Stories that were meant to mesh, and twist around each other until they became one. And in many ways, they did.
In the beginning, Michael sees a description of cheese in a newsletter for a deli. Years later, he decides to find the maker of this cheese. He travels to a place in the world that seems to be a place out of time, and this place was a Castilian village, called Guzman. He went there to meet a man who also lived out of step with time, a man by the name of Ambrosio Molinos, and of course his family. Ambrosio tells his story to Michael and it is a huge story, one about cheese making and family. Michael will tell the story, the one he listened to in the bodega, the cave, where the cheese was stored. A bodega is a good place to listen, and a good place to tell a story. A story that travels back and forth in time and in place.
Cheese, like any other food is best when it is real. When it comes from real earth, warmed by the real sun, offered by real animals and obtained with the proper amount of respect for the food itself. This is a truth. A truth explained by Antonio when he says that it is the Divinity, not the Machines. Life is like that, too. Better when it is real, no artificial ingredients. Whether you are the food or the consumer of the food, it is best when you know your place in the world. Michael, and later his family move to Guzman to live for a while in the magic of the village. To become part of what they have, if only for a little while.
There are heroes in this story, and lovers and friends. You need to begin at the beginning and find out if there is an end. Do stories ever have a true ending?. You will be surprised and enchanted and sad. But you will only be things things for a little while, and in between you will be other things. Things you don't want to miss. So read all of the footnotes, as they are stories within the story itself.
Maybe it's just not my kind of book, or maybe I just don't get it, but here's a book with more sideways than forward momentum in its myriad digressions and lengthy, annoying footnotes. The book starts out to be Paterniti's exploration into the origins of "the world's finest cheese," Paramo de Guzman, but instead of sticking to this, the author falls under the spell of the tiny Spanish village and the cheese's maker, a charismatic character named Ambrosio Molinos, who, to my mind, appears to be something of a bully, a blowhard and maybe even a self-aggrandizing liar. But Paterniti professes to be entranced by "the wonderfully digressive way of Castilian conversation." Wonderfully digressive? Well, the latter word certainly describes this book, but not the former. We get page after footnoted page of Spanish history and its civil war, with its ancient grudges and atrocities, the backstory on El Cid, wines, cheeses, sheep, farming, etc.
The author admits that, to some, he might appear as "Ambrosio's lap dog" in the way he follows the onetime cheese maker around and hangs on his every word (although Paterniti himself does not speak or understand Spanish). Indeed, he is caught up by Ambrosio's story, with his Lear-like raging at his friend Julian's betrayal. "But the story had no ending." No kidding. And it never really does, when you come right down to it.
Amrosio's stories do give off a kind of "Princess Bride" vibe with himself cast as the good giant and Julian as the bad barrister. I also couldn't help but remember that children's circle game, The Farmer in the Dell, with its final round of "the cheese stands alone." Because the tale of the cheese - and the farmer - does indeed go round and round, marching in endless digressive circles. Literally rivers of wine are consumed in the Molinos family Telling Room over the torturous ten-plus years it takes Paterniti to finish the book. Old folks die and children are born and still the author can't figure out how to put this book out of its misery.
Until FINALLY, 280 pages into it, Paterniti has a writerly epiphany when he realizes "this wasn't Ambrosio's book after all. It was mine." And it's only then, when he gets Julian's side of the alleged 'betrayal,' that the book gains some focus and even becomes quite interesting. Because Paterniti's writing is at its very best when he tells his own part in the story, from his college days in Ann Arbor to his marriage and the shaping of his own young family (which is how it got even three stars here). And he is an extremely gifted writer - once he figures out his subject. The trouble here is that it takes him too damn long to do it. Quite frankly, I could have quit reading this book just about anywhere. It was that frustrating. But I finished it. Whew!
I wonder how many people who buy this book will actually finish it. I do think the guy's a good writer, but, like I said earlier, this book is just ... well, a mess. I'm afraid that I could not, in good conscience, recommend it.
Then, however, the author decided to include
I really believe he needed to focus the story on the wonderful character of Ambrosio in the perfect setting of Guzman, Spain and the cheese that dominated so many lives. While I understand that Paterniti meant to show how much of an impact the entire story had on him, I feel that it backfired and bogged the reader down in, sadly boring, unnecessary detail.
Michael Paternity has an experience with an exotic cheese as an early struggling writer. Ten years later he meets the creator of the cheese and becomes enchanted with his story. It is a story of slow food, love of the old ways, Spanish intrigue, and cheese. He becomes so enamored of the story he moves his family to Spain, based on an advance of some £180,000 for this book, to find out the whole story. Instead of telling this story he falls under the spell of Ambrosio who bamboozles him into his myth. It results in the writer wasting his summer, not coming up with a book, and owing the money to the publisher. We understand parts of Amborsio's story, but it is only when the author threatened with losing everything does he go back to Spain and find out the truth.
The book is filled with so many missed opportunities and pretension. It is like he wanted to be the child of David Foster Wallace and Dave Eggers who became a slow movement foodie. The worst part are the footnotes, cute at first, but then so tiring. He never really picks a direction to go in resulting in bits and pieces of a story he has cobbled into a book about himself. I think the thing the upsets me the most about this book is that I am intrigued with Spanish history post-Civil War, as well as cheese, but the writer doesn't know very much about either. There isn't a passion there, only a passion about himself and telling a story. The book gives off a false impression which I didn't appreciate.
Favorite parts:
He was webbed to the here and now, sunk into it, while I seemed to spend a great deal of time racing through airports, a processed cream-cheese bagel in hand, trying to reach the future. Now I sat noticing everything infused with mindfulness...p 46
It cut to the heart of how he felt a human being should eat. "I'd much rather drink wine by somebody who's serving it to me, because I'm drinking that person...I'm becoming impregnated by that persons being, their love." P.79
At the same time, I recognized the Spanish character, which consists mostly of being bigger and more idiosyncratic than the American character. The story swayed me, but probably because some of it was already embedded in me.
The pull of this cheese story was so strong that the author even broke his own rules about being sparing with footnotes. There are some of the longest footnotes in this book that I have ever seen. They were almost always interesting but they provided some distraction. It is difficult to edit when you love your subject so much, you feel that everything is important. It seemed and the author was so captivated by story that it almost like he was afraid to edit.
At the beginning of The Telling Room, Mr. Paterniti tells us how he first became lured into this cheese story. He wrote for magazines and lost his job during bad economic times. He was job hunting and offered his services at an expensive sandwich shop. That is where he met the cheese. It was the most expensive cheese that this shop had ever sold. This cheese had a fabled history and was made in the Castile Region of Spain in the small town of Guzman. Michael Paterniti fell in love with this storied cheese. It was $22 a pound and was named Paramo de Guzman.
The cheese entranced him so much that he had to go to meet the creator. He tried to break free from the cheese’s lures but it wasn’t possible. He had to go to Spain and meet the originator of the cheese factory of this special cheese, Ambrosio. The author didn't know at the time that he would return many times. Ambrisio is an amazing character. I wanted to sit in the same room with him and listen to his families stories that he guarded. He demonstrates the old way of how to feel and think. I learned so much about the region, El Cid and cheese making.
Despite the struggle to stay on the subject, I would recommend reading this book. I am hoping that Michael Paterniti never gets ensnared into another cheese story.
Originally I thought of this book as a curiosity, an amuse bouche,
I enjoyed it tremendously and plan to share it widely. Some stories are told so well, you can't keep quiet about them. This is one of those.
Michael Paterniti weaves a tale of obsession (his) with a cheese (Ambrosio’s) that lasts decades, sending them both into debt and discovery. This is more than a book about an award-winning cheese. It is just as much a coming of age story of the author and a redemptive narrative of the troubled cheesemaker.
Passions run high and hot in Castile, both for good and ill and this is a tale of a life-long friendship gone wrong. Ambrosio was a cheesemaker, not a businessman, and when he involves his lifelong friend Julian, a more buttoned-down lawyer, the tale spins between glory, revenge, feuds dating back to Franco and the revolution.
I’m not sure if Paterniti can be characterized as a humorist, but The Telling Room is packed with asides, footnotes, tangentially relevant fables, morals and history that is a joy to read.
That said, I'm rather surprised I made it all the way through. It's not a particularly long book
It's an interesting story, and if you have an interest in Castille or Spain, you'll find yourself completely enamored.
I could tell from page one the writer had a high opinion of himself, and in the end it did eclipse what I thought should be the central theme of the book, but all in all I still enjoyed it.
A fun read.