About book On Rue Tatin: Living And Cooking In A French Town (2002)
Okay, I will take credit for PART of the reason I am coming over all "meh" about this book. The part that's my fault is this: After reading the author's gushing comment about seeing her "breathtakingly handsome" husband for the first time, I put the book down and Googled the husband. What I came up with was a photo of the husband, and no, I didn't think he was attractive, but that's beside the point. What I found out was that after this book was written, they got divorced. Which made me loath to dive back into a pile of mushy adjectives as she painted the picture of perfect wedded bliss, capering through French country villages and cooking and eating meals more delicious than any meal the reader will ever have experienced.The next thing that made me say "meh" is nobody's fault. See, I worked at a vineyard one summer. An idyllic, perfect vineyard. Run by a married couple who the author and her husband remind me SO very much of. The guy is a conceited jerk. The wife puts up with it. And they both write cookbooks and have a website specifically dedicated to presenting an image of themselves to the world that is so peaceful, organic, wholesome, and privileged that a) no real person could hope to achieve the lifestyle they SEEM to have, and b) most smart people realize that it's a complete facade. They are creating this unreachable ideal so that people will go and buy their wine (or their cookbooks and cooking classes, in the case of this book's author), hoping to touch a little piece of the lifestyle they have. Hoping against hope that because you buy into their carefully crafted image, you might just get a sniff of their "perfect" life. I wanted to punch the author's husband in the face by the time he'd arrived in France. The feeling never left me throughout the rest of the book. I kind of wanted to punch her in the face, too, for putting up with his nonsense, his eye-rolling, and his ego.Another annoyance was the author's misguided belief that readers picked up her book because they wanted to learn French. I mean, a few elegant French words in italics sprinkled sparingly throughout the book - maybe when an actual French person was speaking, say - would have added a little spice to the story... but seriously - by the time I was halfway through the book EVERY PARAGRAPH had italicized French words, followed by a translation. I felt like clapping sarcastically every time. Very good! You speak French! We get it! We don't care! Move on! Ugh. She even italicized the word "agenda" and then translated it... "calendar". Really? Gee, never would have figured that one out. Gag.She also stated in the beginning of the book that she was a vegetarian. Several chapters later, she was rhapsodizing about the chicken, beef, veal, lamb, and wild boar that she and her family were sucking down for breakfast/lunch/dinner/bedtime snacks. So... she's a non-practising vegetarian?A long passage of the book was dedicated to a description of how her house used to be the living quarters for the nuns of the church across the street, and people kept on coming onto their property and into her house uninvited because they thought the house still belonged to the church. She ranted and raved about how inconvenienced she and her family were... and they never once decided to lock their house door or put a lock on the gate. Because "Michael" the arsewipe husband would be inconvenienced by locking the door. Really? So she and her husband are completely stupid, but pages and pages of complaining are inserted for no reason that I can fathom. If you're too stupid to lock your house when you have a three year old child, in a neighborhood that you're aware has crime and drug issues, then don't expect pity. The author is supposedly from America. Hard to believe, considering it took her over six months to finally figure out the answer was locking the gate.The end of the book was a meandering mess, and seemed to have no direction or point (way too many pages dedicated to her anxiety about her son going to school, and painfully boring descriptions of everything that her son and his teachers did and said... zzzzzzzzzzzzzz). What that has to do with French cuisine or anything remotely relevant is beyond me.So why did I give this book two stars? Because the recipes look really good, and I did enjoy the parts of the book where she described the historic house she bought, the gardens, and the townsfolk she met.
Read this book while sitting outside on a temperate spring or summer day with a tree or umbrella nearby for shade and while enjoying fresh crusty bread, soft, flavorful cheese, and a chilled glass of wine (perhaps sparkling, perhaps a lighter sauvignon blanc, or whatever your palette fancies).The day will fly by as you relax into the stories and recipes. The subtitle really should be "Living, cooking and restoring an historic home in a French Town" as the story of the acquisition and renovation of the house Loomis shares with her husband and children is as much the core of the book as the French food and culture, perhaps more so, but she weaves everything together so deftly -- the way she must fold egg whites into a cake -- it is difficult to tell.It occurs to me that the reason I enjoyed book so much is that there is a strong echo of Julia Child's joie de vive (did I spell that correctly?), deep love of France and the French, and innate passion for preparing, enjoying and sharing food.
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Prior to my trip to France in May 2007, I went to the Boston Public Library and raided the shelves for all of its book on life in France. Even if my vacation was 5 months away, I wanted to be in France immediately. And this book certainly did that for me. It details the life of a woman, who with her husband in tow, decides to make a life in France. Its goes through her house hunting, then house remodeling, to finally just her life amongst the French people. I this book is a great study of how the culture of the US and Europe are very different. And the author, who writes about food 75 percent of the time in this book, included some of her delcious recipes. While I was reading this book I could basically smell the apple tartin baking in the oven! A classic fish out of water book, with a cozy and endearing theme to it. I want to move to France!
—Emily
This started out really good but bogged down toward the end -- it seemed she was trying a bit too hard to find things to write about by the last few chapters. But most of the book is very entertaining. I found her chapters about the discovery of the old convent, the process of purchasing it, and the restoration quite wonderful. And I very much enjoyed her descriptions of village life and learning to get along with the quirky, eccentric neighbors. I had just read I'll Never Be French which is also about an American who moves to France and buys a dilapidated old house in a quaint village so the comparison was interesting. Mark Greenside is by far the better writer but Susan Herrmann Loomis had a more interesting story to tell. I sort of wished they had combined efforts!Definitely worth the read though.
—Kathleen Valentine
This book, sort of a mix between travelogue and cookbook (she includes recipes at the end of each chapter) made me just want to hop on a plane to France, for all of its vivid descriptions of foods and aromas, and for the wonderful depiction of the French countryside and the French people. Like Frances Mayes' love of Tuscany, Loomis falls in love with France during trips in her youth and when, years later, she finally makes enough money as a cookbook writer, she wants more than anything to relocate there. Unlike Mayes, Loomis and her husband are not working with a seemingly unlimited budget. The cost of things figures very highly into everything the couple does and buys. The writing is not overly lyrical but still captures all of the true essences of the country.
—Cecilia
