Humorist Rohan Candappa is the son of a Sri Lankan father and Burmese mother. He grew up small and round in South London, riding his chopper bike and supporting Leeds United. But every day his mother would conjur delicious meals out of thin air. His father cooked too, with fiery flavorings, black curries, and green coriander chutneys. Their home became the focus for family gatherings and feasts of such delicacy and exoticism that you'd never have known Norwood lay outside the window. Yet somewhere in his twenties Rohan forgot his culinary heritage, and it wasn't until he was bringing up his own young family that he began to think more about his identity as a second generation immigrant, and the binding, identifying power of the family meal caught his imagination. And so he began this beautifully written, funny, poignant, memoir of his heritage and his home. Of curry leaves and curried fries. Hot chilis and hot dogs. Pataks and Heinz. About the past and the present—and the place where time should cease to matter . . . the family kitchen.
This is my favourite book. I'm a Sri Lankan-Australian. First Gen. So this book is very dear to me. Rohan Candappa is a great storyteller, entertaining through the heart warming sections as well as as the comedic ones. I really loved the thr recipes at the end of each chapter and how it relates to that part of the book I loved it so much, I bout 8 copies (that were very hard to find as it's out of print - thank you, WOB) to give members of my family. MUST read
Read Harder challenge pick; two-birds-one-stone choice to knock out both the food memoir and author from southeast Asia. Boo yah!
OK, so Mr. Candappa was born in London. I still think it counts because he is the son of parents from India and Burma, and this memoir discusses rediscovering his identity through the foods and stories of his family, as well as how curry became the 'national dish' of Britain. I very much enjoyed the portions of the book about his family history, childhood, and relationship to food. Unfortunately, I didn't enjoy the sections on history of curry in Britain nearly as much--largely due to my own unfamiliarity with the London slang and references to local neighborhoods and notables that peppered these chapters. (Pun intended.) Here I initally thought that my regular viewing of BBC programming would have made me a local, but nope, turns I'm just a regular Yank after all. Still, I'm glad I read this one--very interesting glimpse into lives otherwise mostly hidden to me. Also, now I need to try an authentic Vindaloo.
Part family history and memoir, part food memories with recipes, and part historical information of curry.
The book wasn’t bad but I can’t say I loved it either. The family history was well researched and interesting. I don’t know that I would try many of the recipes unless I was feeding a huge group of people. Perhaps cutting the recipes in half would be more realistic. Curry lovers might enjoy reading about its proliferation in the U.K.