In Eating Women, Telling Tales , acclaimed feminist writer and artist Bulbul Sharma explores the many roles—some perennial, some unexpected—that food can play in women’s lives. One of the stories in this rich collection features a young woman who, neglected by her rakish husband, decides to kill him by overfeeding him. Other tales narrate the adventures of a woman who cooks manically; a woman who tries and fails to share her culinary masterpieces with a son newly returned from the United Sates; and a woman who takes money and knickknacks from her husband’s pockets, where she finds the different scents of each woman he has been with.
These protagonists, all gloriously flawed, inspire sympathy, laughter, and sometimes awe. By turns poignant and macabre, their stories make up a delicious spread, showcasing Sharma’s immense talent for depicting the drama and complexity of women’s everyday lives. Devoured by readers the world over after their original publication in 2009, these stories are now available in a handsomely designed reissue celebrating Zubaan’s tenth anniversary.
What are my favorite tales - indian, women and food in no particular order and this book delivers on all accounts. Luscious and mesmerizing the way a dish simmers, each tale tells the secrets and indiscretions of Indian women. Women who rule the home, men and hearts by the sway of their ladles. The cook their hearts out serving to their husbands and sons, the secret recipes and passing the rituals to younger women.
While growing up and even now I have seen lives of mine and most Indian families revolving around food. At breakfast they discuss what’s cooking for lunch and at lunch they start planning for dinner, not to miss the countless tea and snacks. Whether south and North Indian I can bet each of us have our own stories to tell when it comes to food. The favorite dishes made by your Ma, the lost recipes of Nani Ma, the way your father fed you tiny bites with his own hands, the splitting of a favorite dish between siblings, the comfort food on rainy and sick days. The entire social and culture foundation of our country is based on food, and thankfully food is one thing universal and not tainted with religion (except the vegetarian and non vegetarian debate).
This book is everything indian, served hot and steamy straight from the kitchen where women create magic day in and out winning wars and creating peace. Read it and you will taste each word like the numerous magical dishes of your childhood home.
Food.. every aspect of it.. the smell, taste, sound and the emotions it evokes is a large part of all these stories told by eight women who have gathered to cook for a death anniversary. Three lonely women make the offering for the temple deity in a distant land, while reminiscing about the sharpness of mustard oil and sweetness of the special desserts of their homeland that they left far behind years ago. A mother plans to feed her NRI son one of his former favourite dishes per day till she regains the closeness she used to share with him. A wife decides to dispel the scents of the other women in her husband's life by the fragrance of the food she cooks for him while another resolves to feed her difficult husband rich food that he should not eat. Food is in this way the main character in all these tales that are simple, poignant ones often with no definite ending. Also touching upon patriarchal mindsets and the troubles and discrimination women still face in their own and their married homes, the author has very nicely conveyed the essence of each story by associating it with food.
Simmered for simple pleasures : leaves a smile behind.
Deeply rooted in the storytelling culture of the country, the book begins with a promise of tasteful delivery, and does so without any pinch of doubt - but does it in its own flavors, usually unexpected. Family, flavours and fantasy string across the feast of stories. Characters reveal themselves in their experiences - plucked, pickled, patched and plated. It's enjoyable when read from the perspective of a homegrown reader - who understands the nuances that a local backyard brings, the dynamics that an extended family holds, the power play that a household hides - in India. The stories don't end in absolutes hence give an impression of being incomplete but that, is further away from the truth. Endings or the lack of it don't seem to matter once the reader experiences the world that these tales and it women, lead them into. It's simmered for simple pleasures, and a breezy yet amusing read. If not for the stories, one can choose it for the visual world her words create. Left me with a smile and a want for more! Bulbul Sharma never disappoints .
I don’t remember when I picked up this book but like the best of them all, it came to me at just the right time. I needed something relatable where I felt seen but which was also mildly comforting in a realistic way. This book is exactly that.
Set in the dank kitchen of a funeral household in small town India, the tales are told by women and of women as they navigate the complexitities of social rules. Food is their trap. It is also their currency and their weaponry - against each other and against men. Their stories accompany chopping, cleaning, stirring and serving as they traverse myths, superstitions, memories and fantasies. They speak about hard-won prizes of power, of facing down oppressive in-laws, brutish husbands and snarky sisters. They are widows, dutiful wives, long-suffering spouses, cherished cooks, feared senior members of household, ambitious brides and more. There is an eye-tearing miasma of womanhood politics that, just like Indian spices, settles into flavourful, appetising stories.
I just thought it was ehhh.....I don't mind the abrupt endings but for me it was just like "hey look at these indian women being basically abused and all this sexism and also we hate foreigners and when our men date white women but also aren't dark-skinned indian people fuckling ugly? anyway indian food <3 :)" i felt like there were so many times to really confront the awful parts of se asian culture and the book just refuses
like at one point one of the characters calls the husband of another "chingchong chinaman" and then it moves on...
rating it 2.5 (round to 3) stars because at least its accurate and the writing is good and there were some beautiful parts but it still rubbed me the wrong way
"Garam Masala" è un libro composto da una serie di piccoli racconti che hanno come filo conduttore il cibo, ma non intenso come oggetto materico, anche se il tutto si svolge durante la preparazione di un pranzo commemorativo, ma come evocatore di sensazioni e ricordi passati. Infatti, i vari racconti sono più sprazzi di ricordi e suggestioni, che storie vere e proprie, un qualcosa di non definitivo e soggetto a cambiamenti (d'altronde una delle narratrici dice di raccontare sempre la stessa storia ma con particolari sempre diversi) e che riesce a dare un quadro, non molto consolante a dire il vero, soprattutto per quanto riguarda il ruolo della donna nella società indiana. Consigliato.
I had been reading "heavy" books so this felt like a cool and light breeze. But, even though the idea was great, I feel disappointed : the stories are abruptly brought up, they often fizzle out... I know that this book will be forgotten very soon and it is sad that this idea could not be better exploited.
Buku ini merupakan kumpulan cerita pendek yang menggambarkan pengalaman perempuan dalam berbagai situasi hidup, dengan tema sentral tentang makanan dan cerita. Setiap cerita dalam buku ini mengisahkan kehidupan perempuan yang menghadapi tantangan, kesedihan, dan kebahagiaan, sering kali diwarnai oleh kenangan atau momen penting yang berkaitan dengan makanan.
A beautifully written book of short stories set in north India, woven around an all-encompassing narrative, mainly from a feminine perspective. Bulbul Sharma’s writing is evocative, humorous, tragic, and at times, outright bizarre. I enjoyed this!
Heavily rooted in Indian culture, food and storytelling - this book surrounds a group of women sat around a table preparing food - they begin telling stories of their past and of people they knew with all stories linking to food in some way. As the stories are fairly short - there’s not much really getting to know the characters in depth, the main theme here is around food culture and intertwined stories and experiences of these women.
Nourriture indienne et cancans, des histoires variées, à tout de rôle moqueuses et moralisatrices puis tristes et nostalgiques. Un livre pétri d'émotions et de saveurs.
Eating Women, Telling Tales by Bulbul Sharma is a collection of nine stories, narrated by women while they prepare the favourite dishes of the deceased Bhanurai Jog for his funeral feast.
Some tales are deeply poignant, like that of Maya, a young bride filled with hope and cheer, whose happiness is cut short in her husband’s home. Her story explores the dangers of blind faith and the consequences of conforming to societal norms and superstitions.
Another tale follows Jamini, who longs to win back the love of her US-returned son, while his primary intention is to convince his parents to sell their ancestral house.
Bhanurai Jog’s own tale reveals how a husband can fail to truly understand his wife while she is alive. Only after her passing does Bhanurai realise that his gardener knew her dreams, desires, and inner world far better than he ever did.
Each story is beautifully woven around food, which serves as a connecting thread between the women and the lives they recount.
Poignant, evocative, and deeply moving, this collection is highly recommended.
I'm SO disappointed with this book. The premise, so beautiful, is ruined in execution. Stories, food and women - the combination should have been lethal. The writing style is also so promising, with mesmerising images and emotions woven around food. But alas...
Not even one story has a proper ending. We don't know what happens to the characters, and that is infuriating. And this is not the kind of book where you can get away with abrupt endings, because it's a group of women telling each other these stories while they are cooking a shraaddh feast. You wouldn't leave a story incomplete in such a narration! Everyone would demand to know the ending!
The editing is choppy. The flow from one story to another is abrupt, where it should have been seamless and natural. Some family dialogues are so archaic that it's not even funny.
Why a writer who can churn out such brilliant food-emotion imagery would fail in these basics, I can't understand. Tch tch tch...
Già attraverso il titolo, "Garam masala" in italiano, la scrittrice indiana Bulbul Sharma conduce i nostri sensi assopiti dalla grigia quotidianità, direttamente in cucina - dove è il profumo delle spezie fresche a farla da padrone: garam masala è infatti in termini culinari una miscela di cannella, cumino, cardamomo, curcuma, coriandolo, pepe e chiodi di garofano, capace di conferire ai cibi indiani quel loro speciale sapore.
In questo caso Garam masala, è un collage di racconti, scritti in tono brillante e divertente. Le storie hanno un punto di partenza comune. Un gruppo di donne, tra di loro imparentate, si ritrova per una cerimonia funebre memoriale. Un insieme di storie che queste donne si raccontano in cucina, mentre affettano le verdure in vista dell'inizio del cerimoniale.
Il fascino per la penna dell' emisfero orientale spesso ne risente quando in questo genere di romanzi si riscontrano amori e passioni conditi in un insopportabile salsa telenovelas. Non è il caso della Sharma che racconta con arguto savoir-faire e sensuale ironia di intrecci e tradimenti, amori e fedeltà con una punta di rosso peperoncino. Sono racconti aromatici, intrisi di spezie e passioni antiche, i cui odori e immagini appaiono quasi percepibili sulla carta.
Il cibo è il punto di partenza ma è spesso anche al centro dei singoli episodi. La cucina è per tradizione il mondo delle donne indiane e di quelle arabe. Può essere una condanna ma anche uno strumento attraverso il quale veicolare sentimenti d'amore e di odio, istinti folli e seduttivi. Interessante.
Absolutely delicious. Such a delicious anthology. Held by food. Simple writing but such beautiful tales. You add family ka tadka too and you get a spicy book. Helped me through my reading slump. Shame I was mentally in a bad state otherwise could have enjoyed it more. Maybe someday I will reread it again.
I had several problems with this book. First is the uneven editing - missing punctuation, odd sentence constructions distract at many places.
Second is that while the stories being fantastic is one thing, the details in stories often seem to have been put in without much thought. A Tripathi clan's home food consists primarily of meat and seafood? Seems highly unlikely. A lady who own 5 TVs and 3 cars washes her husbands clothes and her husband who has a secretary, will "eat something in the canteen"? All possible but not plausible. And it is more jarring since none of these aberrations contribute to the main storyline. So instead of enriching the narrative, they distract and make it all less believable.
The book also uses flashbacks liberally and the transitions are abrupt. Often I didn't even realize when it switched, only making sense of the text after having read 4-5 sentences ahead.
Having said that, the writing and stories work in parts. I liked the one about Mr. Jog the most.
This was a lovely little book evocative and warm reminding one of old relatives, cooks and smells of home cooked meals. There was a problem with editing in the kindle version barring that I loved the book. It's about women friendship food and also of relationships between men and women and children and even the dear departed. A real gem of a book, I loved it just like I loved water for chocolate! It took me back to weddings and celebrations of life and death of a time gone by,