A Love Letter to Indonesian Food!
I started this novel believing it was going to mostly be about food and a bit about avian flu and possibly the conflict between being a “foodist” (nod to Nadezhda) and the dangers the food industry presents. I was wrong. There’s only a sprinkle of avian flu in this novel- it’s at least 80% food and travel, so that assumption was correct. That said, I was blindsided by a book that is a lot about food (the food porn!!!) but also a lot about an imperfect protagonist and all her insecurities and imperfections and doubts and pretentions that make her not entirely likable but eminently real!
Aruna, the main character, is a storyteller, a dreamer, a food lover, a duty shirker, a procrastinator, a people hater, a deep thinker, a pessimist, a realist, and like all of us desirous of being loved whilst not feeling very deserving of it. Aruna is an everywoman, not in the sense that we can all relate with cute habits and humor, but in the way that we are all whiners and complainers and have moments where we’re just not very likable.
The author is obsessed with food- the taste, the the texture, the discourse, the comparison, the smell... oh the smell of it particularly intrigued her. You know how in romance novels or even non-romance novels, heroes smell of “salt and sand and clean air and mountain breezes and warm musk”, whilst heroines smell of “lavender and summer and wildflowers, fruit or exotic dusks...,” ambiguous smells that sound attractive but we can’t always quite imagine what those smells are on a person? Well Aruna has got you- the hero smells like coffee and wood and cheese (... 👀👀👀) and the heroine (Arun) herself smells like cream, oyster and fish .... make of that what you will. The smells and tastes are earthy and real and there’s no pussyfooting around the reality and pungent nature of the smells of food and love. Like imperfect Aruna, the depictions of her attraction and love are realistic and earthy and a little uncomfortable, but all the more real because of that.
This novel is more or less a love letter to Indonesian food, so it does tend to go on describing the most obscure differences between regional cuisine. The actual love story itself is unexpected. If you’re someone who loves food, you’ll probably be able to relate to Aruna who struggles to understand love and human connection, but is intimately comfortable and understanding of every aspect of food.