“Sassy, brash, acrobatic and colorful . . . I want to read it again and again.” — Time
“Impressive . . . Soffer’s style is natural and assured.” —Meg Wolitzer, All Things Considered , NPR
Lorca spends her life poring over cookbooks to earn the love of her distracted mother, a chef, who is now packing her off to boarding school. Desperate to prove herself, Lorca resolves to track down the recipe for her mother’s ideal meal. She signs up for cooking lessons from Victoria, an Iraqi-Jewish immigrant profoundly shaken by her husband’s death. Soon these two women develop a deeper bond while their concoctions—cardamom pistachio cookies, baklava, and masgouf —bake in Victoria’s kitchen. But their individual endeavors force a reckoning with the past, the future, and the truth—whatever it might be.
In Tomorrow There Will Be Apricots we see how food sustains not just our bodies, but our hopes as well. Bukra fil mish mish , the Arabic saying goes. Tomorrow, apricots may bloom.
“A profound and necessary new voice. Soffer’s prose is as controlled as it is fresh, as incisive as it is musical. Soffer has arrived early, with an orchestra of talent at her disposal.” —Colum McCann, author of Let the Great World Spin
“Moving [and] extraordinary.” — Atlantic
“A work of beauty in words . . . Soffer is a master artist painting the hidden hues of the human soul.” — New York Journal of Books
Jessica Soffer is the author of This Is a Love Story and Tomorrow There Will Be Apricots. She grew up in New York City and earned her MFA at Hunter College where she was a Hertog Fellow. Her work has appeared in Granta, The New York Times, Real Simple, Saveur, The Wall Street Journal, Vogue, and on NPR’s Selected Shorts. She teaches creative writing to small groups and in the corporate space and lives in Sag Harbor, New York, with her family.
There are sentences in this book that will stay with me for a long time. Descriptions of human experience that are so deeply felt and so accurately relayed that you have these ahhh moments reading. For example, I loved when the older character was looking at her face in the mirror and wondering when she started looking so American, wondering if it was her use of English that reshaped her face. Jess's writing is sensual, she's got such a talent for plucking the right word and fastening it to another in a way you'd never thought of before, like a verbal stylist. I'm also impressed with how she crafted an actual story out of all these beautiful sentences.
At the risk of sounding like a very grumpy and picky reader, I have to say that this was another disappointment. I found this to be an untidy mish-mash of unbelievable characters whose motivations never became completely clear. Lorca is clearly very damaged, but the reasons for this don't seem obvious. While her mother may be cold and remote, she isn't really neglectful and Lorca herself has let her relationship with her father lapse. Also - what are the authorities doing for her? I can't believe that any student caught hurting herself so seriously would be unceremoniously thrown out of school without recourse to at least the school counsellor, if not a whole phalanx of shrinks. And Lorca's mother - if she is a great chef, how come she is home in the evenings, why is she living on her sister's sofa and why did she leave her husband in the first place? New Hampshire is hardly the ends of the earth and it doesn't seem as though her life improved much after moving. As for Victoria's plan to adopt out her child - what on earth is that about? Again her motivation is hazy at best and her husbands reaction is extraordinarily meek. Poor, dead Joseph comes off the worst - sainted, loving and two dimensional - I can see no reason at all for him to have held out in this marriage to such a hard, selfish woman for so long. All in all, the whole book could have done with some close attention from a confident editor.
Although I've decided to supply a spoiler warning, the author herself has plenty of spoilers in the first two chapters alone... I abandoned this book at about page 50, unengaged (even annoyed) by what seemed to be a completely predictable narrative, and less than charmed by a flip and superficial writing style. The premise is that a young girl--who has engaged in self-mutilation (cutting) from earliest childhood and in trouble at school for the umpteenth time--is trying to prevent her volatile chef mother from sending her off to a boarding school. The girl, Lorca, believes she can convince her mother to give her another chance by finding the recipe for and recreating the most delectable food (an Iraqi fish dish) her mother once tasted. The author makes no secret of the fact that the other significant female character--a widowed Iraqi-American woman, whose infant daughter was given up for adoption 40 years before (Lorca's mother's adopted status is announced early in the book) and who once owned an Iraqi restaurant--will be the self-mutilating girl's grandmother. With all of that information supplied early on, one needs to have some pretty good writing and some pretty good characters to carry the story. I didn't see either in the 50 pages I read. Descriptions of gourmet ethnic cooking can't substitute for all that's lacking here. Not recommended.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
When I visited Tel Aviv in 2008, I was treated to Shabbat dinner at the home of my friends' grandparents, Iraqi immigrants, who had fled to Israel in the 40s. It was one of the best meals I had ever eaten, pomegranates and persimmons mixed in with the rice and meat. I had eaten Persian food many times before, but this was even better. Upon my return, I searched the internet for an Iraqi Jewish restaurant in NYC, where I could once again taste these flavors. There was none to be found. Jessica Soffer's novel, Tomorrow there will be Apricots, transported me back to this dinner, allowing me to revel in the cuisine and the warmth of a family meal through a story about the ties that bind us.
This is a dual first person narrative about a teenager and an old woman, who are both desperate to connect. Lorca is a damaged young woman, estranged from her mother even though she sees her every day. She feels completely alone in the world, incapable of pleasing her mother despite her best efforts. Victoria is an old woman, facing the loss of her husband, and the loss of the only child she gave up many years ago. After emigrating from Iraq to follow Joseph, her boyfriend, she gave up a child for adoption, a child that Joseph had wanted to keep. She and Joseph opened a successful Iraqi restaurant, and she was invigorated by her work. Now, without Joseph or the restaurant, Victoria is left with a gaping hole, and is conflicted by her past decisions.
Early on in the novel, Soffer reveals that Lorca's mother is adopted and that Victoria gave up a child. When Lorca finds out that her mother's favorite meal was a fish dish called Masgouf, from an Upper West Side Iraqi restaurant, Lorca goes on a quest to learn how to make it. She quickly learns that coincidentally, Victoria has begun giving cooking lessons in her apartment. Everything comes together easily, limiting the suspense, as we suspect to that Lorca's mother is Victoria's long-lost child. The author seems to suggest that blood is thicker than water, that there is some kind of sixth sense that connects people who are biologically related. The longer this question remains unanswered, and we watch Lorca and Victoria build a relationship and find something to live for, the answer seems less important.
The power of the novel is in its vivid imagery and well-drawn characters who face different obstacles but both benefit from each other's support.
Okay, this review is going to be tough. This book made me angry and it made me cry. I loved some bits and loathed others. So, The things I loved: The writing. Absolutely awe-inspiring. I was going 'wow' and highlighting sections to re-read. The author's imagery, her food metaphors are simply beautiful.
The food. Glorious descriptions of food interspersed throughout the book.
The relationship between Lorca and Victoria was beautiful and emotional.
Dottie - I loved Dottie.
Blot -What a wonderful boy. Loved him.
What I hated: Lorca's mother Nancy. I wanted to shake her. I wanted her to come through for her daghter at least at the end of the book. Hated her. Kept complaining about her out loud and my kids and husband asked me to please move on to a different book if I hated this one so much.
Victoria. I know she's repentant and regrets what she did, but... I did not like her.
Overall, loved the writing. Hated some of the characters. Will read more by this author. She writes beautifully.
Another BINGO challenge pick which I thoroughly enjoyed. Admittedly I found some of the storyline contrived - but I liked the atmosphere, the inclusion of food, and the two main characters so much that I can easily overlook the book's flaws. Lorca self-harms and is about the be sent to boarding school because of it. She is the child of divorces and unstable parents who believes if she can just prepare her mother's favorite meal, she can be saved. Victoria is a new widow, an Iraqi Jew, a former chef who believes if she can find the child she gave up for adoption, she can be saved. So, yes, kind of trite - but it's told so well, with a smattering of other interesting off-beat characters (also lost and looking for salvation) and scrumptious descriptions of classic Iraqi foods, that I was glad to go along for the ride.
Ugly, horrifying book that exploits a mentally ill teenage narrator to tell a not very original story. All the guff about sensual food imagery and the bonding of 2 generations talked about in the back cover copy isn't there. It's an ugly-for-the-sake-of-ugly story about a teenage girl who spends most of her time physically mutilating herself. Occasionally, she makes something nice to eat, but, mostly, she mutilates herself.
If not the recommendation in the Time magazine by Colum McCann I would never know about this book. But I very much enjoy McCann poetic prose, so I thought I give it a go. I cannot say unfortunately it's met my expectations. I do not want to criticise too much - it is a debut novel. And the girl who is writing it definitely has got determination and desire to tell the story. But i was not convinced it's achieved the bar which it has targeted at.
Firstly - what i liked - metaphoric language was quite successful. Also the author conveys a great feeling for New York. Initially I thought it would be an urban fairytale where the happy end is expected and predictable, but it makes the book only better… Unfortunately for me it was not the case, as the latish plot twist has made it somewhat much darker, but much less convincing.
Now, what i did not like - characterisation! I thought two main protagonists and their voices in the book were not bad, especially at the beginning (later their monologues seems to be a bit repetitive). But i did not understand at all who was Lorca's mother- what was her underlying motivation, why Lorca loves her with such a puppy's love? Her character in the book is very sketchy, but I think without her it is difficult to believe the whole story. On the other hand, I thought too much space were devoted to Joseph, which did not feed organically to the main story, but was not enough to make a second independent line of the novel. Also all post mortem revelations about him were really not convincing and frankly unnecessary in my view.
Also I was a bit irritated by often use of the phrases such as : "I was tired but not. ", "I was ready for it, but also not ready." etc., etc. I understand that it is supposed to be a literary way how to convey the character's feelings. But the novel is literally peppered with it and it is just getting on your nerves too much.
Overall I would use the author's way and say about this novel: It is too much but not enough.
But I will be looking forward to her second novel. I think there is a potential for it to be better.
Lorca is fourteen years old and about to be sent to boarding school. To sway her mother, who is a professional chef, Lorca will attempt to cook the best dish her mother ever had: a Middle Eastern dish called Masgouf. Starting her search at the bookstore, Lorca looks through cookbooks and Zagat brochures, but finding a place that serves this dish proves difficult. That is until Lorca stumbles upon Victoria, a woman offering cooking lessons on Jewish/Middle Eastern cuisine. As the flavors of the food combine, so will their lives.
Okay, so this novel was not at all what I expected. Food and its preparation played a significant role and I very much enjoyed their descriptions (kinda of want a cardamom pistachio cookie right now). However, characterization was not not up to par. The motiviations surrounding the characters were not made clear. Most frustrating case of all was Nancy, Lorca´s mother. Not once is it explained why Nancy is so distant and cold with her daughter, especially considering how hard Lorca works (and I mean work) to gain her love. To top it off, Lorca is dealing with a tough situation, that her mother brushes off. The prose is good, a redeeming factor for the novel. Still, good writing combined with a lacking story is like cooking with subpar ingredients: the end product is not going to be enough. The title alludes to an Arabic proverb, that tomorrow could be better. Did not get that sense with the way the novel ended. Would consider reading another work by Soffer based on the writing but not sure if I´d recommend this work. All and all, it was disheartening.
I was hoping for more from this book after reading a review in a magazine. However, every character in this book is broken in some way and it is difficult to find a character with which to identify. Lacking that involvement, I always find myself at arm's length with the story. Some of the characters do change and grow and there are some lovely descriptions of ethnic food, but I just wasn't engaged with the the book for almost it's entire length. And, towards the end, the novel seems to be headed for a fanciful happy ending which put me at an even greater distance. The ending ends up being a more realistic one, but not an especially satisfying one. This one wasn't really worth the time for me.
This is a generous 3 star. I enjoyed some parts of the book, like the food part, but there were many parts that were really unresolved to me.
(Caution: these are probably spoilers)
Lorca - what’s her deal? What made her want to mutilate herself? Because she wanted her mother’s attention? It seemed to be more than that, but it was never really explained.
Her mother - what’s with the attitude towards her daughter? Was the mother really so busy working? Why does she act that way towards her daughter who’s clearly not right?
Victoria - why did she decide to do what she did when she was pregnant? Was what the real thing that bothered her about having a baby?
Great writing and food; what’s not to like? I loved this slowly unraveling story about an emotionally wounded teenaged girl, her distant self absorbed mother, and an elderly widow who is drawn into a complex relationship with the teenager. It is an exotic feast of words.
The girl, Lorca, tries to find favor with her mother by cooking her favorite foods; wanting to prove that she is worthy of her love. Lorca’s mother is a head chef and creative director at one of New York’s finest restaurants, and when she isn’t working she gives little attention to Lorca. Lorca responds by hurting herself; and that makes her mother so angry and embarrassed that she wants to send her away to a boarding school, but Lorca has a plan to change her mothers mind. The plan is to make a dish called masgouf that her mother once ate, and raved about, at a restaurant that no longer exists. In searching for the recipe she finds Victoria, an Iraqi Jewish immigrant, who teaches cooking lessons, and she hopes that Victoria will be able to teach her how to make masgouf which is a traditional Iraqi grilled fish dish. This novel is beautifully told; even the secondary characters come alive. At the end I had a few questions, but they didn’t take away from the story. I’m definitely giving a 5 star rating for this ARC from Amazon vine. This could also be a YA novel.
This book grabbed me from the first chapter, with the character of Lorca, a desperately lonely teenager who cuts herself. This “heartwarming” book was surprisingly gritty and emotionally raw. I didn’t want to put it down and I didn’t want to leave these characters.
Lorca, named for the poet, is caught between an emotionally manipulative mother and an indifferent father. When she’s found cutting herself and expelled from school, her mother threatens to send her to boarding school, so she decides to learn to prepare her mother’s favorite meal. She takes cooking lessons with Victoria, an elderly Iraqi immigrant who used to run a restaurant with her husband, who just died of cancer. Both women are pretty damaged, so they are immediately drawn to each other. I loved the way this book was written. It would be easy to be sticky sweet and overly melodramatic and this book isn’t. Yes, there are food metaphors, but food is a background, not the story. And it’s realistic that this girl who only shows her love through food would seek to cook a perfect meal for her mother.
The relationships in this book are so well-drawn, all of the characters are complex and all have their own heartbreaks to deal with. The characters tiptoe around each other, afraid to say or reveal too much. No one is quite what they seem, except the irony is that people really do see each other for who they are.
Soffer really excels in the small moments of this book, like Lorca getting to know Blot, or the first time Lorca and Victoria meet, or Victoria’s friend Dottie helping her get dressed for her first cooking lesson. For me, it was all of these “small moments” that kept me reading through the more melodramatic parts.
This book was a surprisingly complex, beautifully written book about family, love, marriage, friendship, loss, and growing old. Oh, and cooking. I loved everything about it.
When I started this book, I thought I could guess the direction it was going - troubled girl, distant mother, absent father, boy love interest that all come together happily in the end. This book surprised me by being far deeper and more poignant than I expected. Soffer's main character, Lorca, is struggling to find her identity as an individual. This is made incredibly difficult by her distant, self-absorbed, emotionally frigid, narcissistic mother (no love lost on this character from me). Lorca is a self-mutilator (a "cutter" doesn't do justice to the ways in which she wounds herself, nor to the depth of her physical and emotional wounds) who hurts herself so that she can feel something, even if it's pain. A result of her life with her mother. I kept expecting Soffer to hold back, after the first few introductory scenes, but she doesn't. Lorca's self mutilation is a huge part of this book, and I appreciated that Soffer does not glaze over it - both in terms of the way she describes it, but also in terms of the difficulty Lorca has with stopping the cycle of self-hurt.
The other main character is Victoria, a woman who immigrated to America with her husband years ago. She had a daughter that she chose to give up for adoption instead of raising her. Now that her husband is dead, Victoria begins to search for her daughter again.
The two stories intertwine in ways that are unexpected (not "book description" unexpected, I mean, I truly didn't guess how things would turn out).
Most books I read for book club I like, but wouldn't necessarily recommend because I prefer reads that are emotionally or intellectually challenging. This book, while not difficult to get through, will challenge you emotionally. And will make you rethink the meaning of family. Is it the people you're born to and bound by blood to, or do you get to choose?
In the interest of full disclosure, I have known Jessica Soffer since a few days after her birth and her parents even longer. Without prejudice, I can say that this is a wonderful book--beautifully written and heartfelt. And what an imagination Jess has -- to create a character like the mother, who is nothing like her own mother, and the girl, who is nothing like Jess. The prose is marvelous--I could get lost in the images, especially the food metaphors, which keep reminding the reader that this is, at least in part, a book about the preparation of food as an expression of love. The characters are finely drawn--flawed but understandably so, given their histories. Even the mother, whose detachment from her child could have made her a cardboard cut-out villain, has moments of warmth and connection and her own sad history to deal with. I loved the plot twists and turns. At first, I thought, oh no, she is revealing a key point way too early, but then it turns out she wasn't. And on a very personal note, the book kept reminding me of a very precious friend, Jess's Iraqi Jewish dad, Sasson Soffer, not because any of the characters resemble Sass, but because Iraqi Jewish culture is the backdrop to the book, and I would know nothing about it if I hadn't had the privilege of knowing him.
I am happy that at last I finished this book. it was unnecessarily long, full of cheesy iterations of sentiments that you could express with a few words and unable to make you care for its characters. You could only read a sentence out of each paragraph and make it a 100 page book instead of 480. I thought paying attention to people and foods who aren't always star of the books is brilliant but you need to tell a fascinating story to make these settings shine!
I started reading this book because a website somewhere recommended it as one of the best books of 2013, and what caught my eye was the word 'masgouf' in italics somewhere in the review, my eyes lingered there not believing that there's this book here, and it's about an Iraqi dish and my mind was set. I was going to read it no matter how sappy or cliche it would be.
It's nothing like I imagined it would be, it's about food and so much more. It's about a daughter wanting to find her way into her mother's affection, where her hopes take her and how she starts learning how to cook Iraqi food.
The story had so many shortcomings, things didn't exactly fit or make sense, sometimes it felt like the author changed her mind about where she wanted the story to go. But still, maybe I'm feeling very patriotic, and anything even remotely about Iraq made me happy, or proud. But I know it wasn't that, it was that it felt so very honest. Even if the story didn't work, the characters really pulled it off. I felt their emotions and even when I didn't agree with them, I still could see them in front of me. I could see Victoria alone, making peace with her past and unmaking it over and over again. I could see Lorca waiting up for her mother, I could see her at the bookstore and at the kitchen. They just felt so real, the emotions felt very real and even if the story was far-fitched at times, it didn't matter. What mattered more was that I was getting to know them, and they felt real.
The writing was actually good, I found myself reading a few sentences more than once smiling at the wit. Jessica definitely has a lot of potential. I didn't feel lost although there was a lot of talk about cooking, maybe because it has a lot of Iraqi dishes' names, I wonder what another person might have made of this book. The cherry on the top, when I was reading the acknowledgment page, I always have a look at the names and try to imagine what they've done for the author or the book, and in the end Jessica thanked Colum McCann for his faith in her. I love McCann.
I would really like to give Tomorrow There Will Be Apricots three and a half stars.
I think Soffer's mastery of descriptive language is superb. "Black lines were under his nails as if he'd scraped off all the words of a book, page by page by page" (51).
I loved that she had Lorca "think" in food. I was rooting for Lorca from the beginning.
I had a few problems. First of all, if a school official knows a student is harming self, there are definite steps to take (some mandated by law). Suspending said student without any followup or referral to appropriate agencies is not one of these steps.
Secondly, could Lorca have any more disinterested, cold, and selfish parents? I had a most difficult time with Lorca's mother, that self-absorbed cold bitch. (Sorry.) Then there was her love sick alcoholic father---does Lorca stand a chance?
Thirdly, although Lorca is an old soul and seems very mature for her age (despite her psychological issues), I took issue with Blot being depicted as nineteen (to Lorca's age of fourteen).
I did like Blot and I also rooted for Joseph and hoped he would find some peace from his early relationship with Victoria and her betrayal of their love. (I enjoyed the older Victoria but did not understand at all the younger version.)
I had a difficult time trying to figure out Dottie's role and the ending really didn't help me any.
Lorca's self-mutilation was a tragic distraction and I'm not sure it was needed. Her issue is never really addressed and resolved, even in the conclusion of the novel.
To sum up, I loved Soffer's style, just not some of her characters and some of the structure of the novel.
I really wanted to like this book. It has gotten rave reviews, and friends have loved it. There are many elements that make it an excellent book: the entwined stories of Lorca and Victoria, the descriptions and phrasing are wonderful, and the feeling of sadness and lost dreams that pervades the whole book.
It was a little too sad for me, and while I enjoy character driven books, these characters were so fragile and guarded, that it wasn't until the end of the book that you got a tiny glance into their full personalities. I can see there being a lot to discuss for a book club, and it would be a great choice because your refreshments could be some of the foods mentioned in the book.
While the characters are Jewish, and there was a bit of Iraqi Jewish culture, only superstition informed Victoria; the Judaism was not integral to the story, especially since her husband was cremated and she did not observe the traditional customs of mourning.
I was going to given this two stars, but the use of language was exceptional. For example: "When one reaches a certain aage, seeing oneslef becomes an exercise in disbelief. It's like waking up from oral surgery, distorted and full, and then looking in the mirror. It takes a moment to computer that you are who you are." Don't I know it!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Jessica Soffer writes about Iraqi food, family, mentoring and underneath it all is a dark cloud of longing for motherly affection and love, while the main character, Lorca, cuts herself to feel that she is alive. She also touches briefly on an area of history which isn't talked about very much, the Farhud in Iraq when Jews were forced to leave or die, a scenario seen in many places but not often publicized about Iraq. Jessica writes too about aging with incredible insights about the diminishing world of an aging person. She mixes it all in with wonderful descriptions of food. The book is written from the viewpoints of three of the characters which is at first jarring but then the connections become clear and as a reader I was willing to continue on the journey. There are a few unexpected turns which come as a shock but I won't spoil it for you.
Jessica came to our book club and discussed the book over dinner, which seemed only natural, since so much of the book was about the power of breaking bread and creating meals together. It was a wonderful get together with conversation about her history and how she came to write this book. She is a delightful and fascinating women who will certainly go far in her writing career.
Taken directly from the book's description: "This is a story about accepting the people we love, the people we have to love and the people we choose to love, the families we're given and the families we make. It's the story of two women adrift in New York, a widow and an almost-orphan, each searching for someone she's lost. It's the story of how, even in moments of grief and darkness, there are joys waiting nearby." Well written.
This was a book that I chose randomly from my local library without knowing the author or having heard of the book before. And what a surprise it was! It’s a lovely, heartbreaking story and well worth a read. A hidden gem!
Tomorrow There Will Be Apricots is an interesting book--on one hand I loved it for the food descriptions and imagery that filled it, but I also found myself very slow at working my way through it, as the story made me sad--there is so much loneliness, pain and loss captured in its pages. Lorca is a 14-year-old girl who is desperate to gain the love and attention of her very distant (to the point of being cruel) mother. Her mother is a chef and Lorca tries to show and earn love through food and cooking and caring for this cold woman. (Can you tell I desperately did not like this woman!?) Lorca deals with her pain and abandonment (her father, who her mother left back in New Hampshire is a piece of work as well) by cutting and other ways of self-harm and when she is discovered injuring herself in a school bathroom stall by a classmate and suspended, her mother decides to send her to boarding school. Lorca is desperate and hopes that by recreating, Masgouf, a special Iraqi fish dish from a restaurant that her mother declared was the most delicious food she had tasted, her mother will allow her to stay. Searching out the restaurant and recipe leads Lorca to Victoria, who along with her husband, owned the restaurant where Lorca's mother ate the Masgouf. Victoria is dealing with the very recent death of her husband and some big secrets from her past and she and Lorca are drawn together as Victoria teaches her how to make the dish and other Iraqi specialties.
The book is full of food and food references, lovingly described by the author and I liked how these two women, generations apart, bonded over cooking and ingredients. I found the descriptions of the cutting and Lorca's emotional pain very difficult to read--at one moment I would be tempted by the descriptions of a dish and the next I would find my stomach turning with a description of the self-mutilation, which threw of the rhythm of the book for me. There were also some plot points and twists that didn't quite hold up for me and I wanted more from the ending. Still, I hold out hope that the title of the book (taken from an Arabic saying "Bukra fil mish mish") comes true and tomorrow, apricots may bloom for Lorca and Victoria.
Lorca, Victoria and Blot, three damaged people, populate this novel that touches on Iraq, cutting and drug addiction leavened by lies, secrets and poor parenting. Ultimately hopeful, the book drags a bit after many chapters of discouraged, depressed people. I was happy to see the end. The three main characters, Lorca’s mother and Victoria’s “best friend” Dottie are all clearly drawn. Each is likeable except for Lorca’s mother who is clearly the villain. Joseph, the only other character, is not so well developed and plays an important, though minor, role. Cutting and food are also main characters. I learned much about the whys of cutting, coming away with a very sympathetic and empathetic view of those who suffer from this scary disease. Food offers the much needed lightness. Iraqi dishes are presented and prepared by Lorca and Victoria. One recipe is given. I would have liked to have others – the descriptions had my mouth watering! Because I feel the book is too long, only 3 of 5 stars.
DNF. I only made it through p. 10 so I have no idea if there are redeeming pieces to this book. What I read was twisted and depressing. (And not easy to follow for the few pages I read. I actually couldn't understand some of the innuendos. For example, the character was accused of using drugs but she had a knife to her thigh. Having no exposure to either drugs or cutters, I was confused and thought maybe she really was a drug addict until I comprehended from the thrill she got from burning her hands that she was a cutter and not a drug addict.) That parenthetical says it all. Not for me.
Talk about not judging a book by it's cover!
Still, in what I read, I do recognize good writing style. It should be 2 stars b/c the author has talent, but, since this is my own booklist, I give it one.
Give me the warm and insightful writing (also on hard topics) of Barbara O'Neal ANY day. The Lost Recipe for Happiness, for example, as it's name accurately portrays, is a joy to read.
I did not enjoy any aspect of this book, and that is a rare thing for me to say. The characters are extremely unrelatable and self centered. It is a very downer book. There are parts that seem upbeat, but they only appear this way because they're juxtaposed between very depressing and nearly pathetic thoughts and feelings of the characters. I wish I hadn't wasted my time reading this.
My main complaint about this book concerns the the plot. The young woman in this story has a serious psychological problem. Her mother's cavalier attitude toward this problem is unacceptable to me. I sympathized with the older woman in the book and found her to be a welcome counterpoint to the mother.
I almost always enjoy a novel that is written by an author that obviously loves cooking and food. This book eloquently spans and connects women of different generations through the art of cooking and their individual neuroses.
I loved the characters and the poignancy of their lives and how they interconnected. I also really liked the recipes and stories about how certain recipes were important to them.