Her husband died a year ago in a random street accident while on a business trip. Since that time, Maggie McElroy has been dealing with grief. They had no children – her decision. They both had demanding jobs requiring frequent travel. He was a lawyer. She is a food writer. Then, Maggie receives a call from one of her husband's colleagues, based in Beijing. A Chinese woman has filed a paternity suit and she needs to travel to China to obtain a DNA sample from the child. The narrative up to this point follows a familiar template: Widow stunned by husband's secrets. We are rescued by a second narrative. Sam Liang, a Chinese-American, had returned to Beijing to learn traditional Chinese cooking from his uncles, Jiang Wanli, Tan Jingfu, and Xie Er. Timed with the Peking Olympics, there is to be a culinary competition. Sam will be one of ten contestants vying for the two Northern Chinese chef spots on the team. The two stories converge when Maggie agrees to interview Sam for her magazine while she is in China. Sam has an interesting history. His grandfather, Liang Wei, was trained in the waning days of imperial rule and wrote a book about Chinese cuisine and aesthetics that might be comparable to Brillat-Savarin's analysis of western gastronomy. His father Liang Yeh was rigorously trained by Liang Wei, but was forced to flee for his life when the ideology of the cultural revolution sought to eradicate all vestiges of tradition, including food preparation. Restaurants were closed and chefs either imprisoned, executed, or like much of the population, starved. He made it to America where Sam was born.There is a studied delicacy in the friendship that grows between Maggie and Sam. They begin as reluctant professional contacts. Maggie begins to act on her tentative instincts when an opportunity presents itself. “She and Sam seemed to be in the first stages of alliance people pass through while deciding whether or not to become friends. Already they seemed to be looking out for each other, at least a little.” (p.92) However, the true momentum of this book derives from the descriptions of food. A taxonomy of flavors includes xian (shee-in)-sweet; xiang (shee-ahng)-fragrant; nong-complex and concentrated; and you er bu ni (yuu-er-buu-nee)-fat. In addition, there are considerations of texture: cui (tswai)-dry and crispy; nen (nuhn)-fibrous and tender; and ruan (rwahn)-softness. Sam teaches Maggie a little about Chinese cuisine and its goals. The point is not just taste, but a whole network of associations – personal, familial, cultural, and even historical. This network of relationships is summarized by the word guanxi (gwahn-she). In order to plan a banquet, the chef must first select a theme. Sam chooses a literary theme. Intended to allude to the Song poet, Su Dongpo, he selects a dish called dongpo rou (doong-pwaw roe) for one of his dishes. The discerning judges will immediately grasp the connection of the dish with the famous poet, the region of Hangzhou renowned for the dish, and Sam's own familial ties to the region. It will also offer a variety of desirable contrasts: The precisely shaped cut of pork, the cloud-like softness of the crown of fat, and the subtlety of the flavored sauce. For presentation, Sam will surround the square with rice studded with ginkgo nuts, dates, lotus buds, gelatinous silver ear mushroom and pine nuts suffused with the sauce. Cultural continuity is reflected in these traditional dishes. Sam's uncle, Xie Er muses: “People sometimes said the cuisine's long history was the very thing that made it special, but it was not the longevity of the art itself that counted – no. Rather, it was the cuisine's constant position as observer and interpreter. Throughout history chefs created dishes to evoke not only the natural world but also events, people, philosophical thought, and famous works of art such as operas, paintings, poems, and novels. A repertoire was developed that kept civilization alive, for diners to enjoy, to eat, to remember.” (p.98) This memory was what made food a dangerous topic and a political target during the cultural revolution. This is a light-weight romance saved by its rich cultural references. The tension between tradition and innovation that has marked China's long history is left untouched. The permanent foreignness of the outsider is frequently mentioned, and then dropped. Some of the aesthetic descriptions indulge in a mystique lauding over-refinement. Nevertheless, this is an enjoyable story about food, history and cooking. It ties together some very modern ideas about the connection between taste, sight, smell and childhood associations with the theme of traditional Chinese cuisine. Finally, there's a lively sense of pacing as the story shifts backward and forward in time. One of the most charming stories is of xiao wo tou (shee-ow waw toe), a simple corncake which the Dowager Empress favored because it reminded her of her youth and the Court's flight after the Boxer Rebellion. A few of the recipes and much of the author's restaurant journal are summarized on her website, http://www.nicolemones.com.
This is an amazing book and one of the best books I've read all year. As someone who has limited cooking skills and who is even less adventurous with new food than your average five year old - trust me when I say that this book has made me want to try a world of new things.Maggie is a widow who writes for Table Magazine. Her husband died a year ago in a sudden accident and she's just found out that a claim has been filed against his estate in China, where he frequently traveled for work. A paternity claim.Maggie travels to China to unravel the past and on the way picks up an assignment from her boss to write about a man named Sam who is opening a new restaurant. Sam is half Chinese/half American and came to China from America to learn to cook "the old way" from his Uncles who are all chefs. The things Maggie learns about Chinese food and culture, and about herself, are what make this book come to life. The stories of Sam and his family and their relationships through the history of China are interwoven throughout the book. And of course, you wonder - will Maggie and Sam be more than friends? Every character was interesting, every person's life was read with delight. I love the little details of food - every meal tells a story. Every dish, every flavor, every texture - they all mean something. Food wasn't just something to eat to live by, it was inspiring; poetry, art, theater - they all arise from the wonderful food everyone shares. I love the community and tradition that go into every meal, that every meal should not just be something to eat, but something to share and savour. I loved this book. I almost hated reading it because I loved it from the first page, and I knew every page I read meant I was one page closer to the end.
Do You like book The Last Chinese Chef (2007)?
This was an entertaining little book, but it fell short for me. I do love to cook, to travel and to eat a broad variety of "ethnic" foods, but reading this book often felt like reading a cookbook and carefully studying each ingredient as I plodded along. Mones clearly demonstrated her broad knowledge of Chinese culture and cuisine. She often imparted some new item of information for me about Asian history, intellect and the importance of culinary arts and food sources for these people.The characters in this novel were interesting and often colorful. There also was a slight degree of tension where one would be eager to determine the fate of an individual. However,at times the plot seemed to wear thin as each new item of gastronomic delight was prepared and consumed.Fortunately, there was enough in this book to entertain me , but I could not see giving this anything more than 3 stars.
—Barbara
The story goes down like steamed chow mein: Soft and amiable, with nothing too heavy to chew on. Before I realized it, I had finished over half the book. I just kept shoving the words in my brain without stopping to ponder them. The Last Chinese Chef satisfies the Recommended Daily Allowance of insight into China's culinary traditions. In fact, it contains abundant, nearly toxic levels of Chinese food descriptions, all punctuated by our heroine Maggie gloating about how incredible it tastes. This is all pressed together with superfluous sub-plots and characters, and then deep-fried in love. The ending fortune cookie is a sweet but cringing sex scene. For all its pretenses of being about genuine Chinese cuisine, The Last Chinese Chef sure goes down like American-style Chinese takeout.
—Meredith
Maggie McElroy, a widowed American food writer, is still trying to overcome her grief at her husband’s death in a hit-and-run accident, when she is stunned by a call from his law firm’s satellite office in Beijing. There is a paternity claim against her husband’s estate, and Maggie needs to go to Beijing to convince the child’s mother to agree to a DNA test. Immersing herself in work is what has helped her deal with her grief, so she is distressed when she tells her editor she will need to be gone for several weeks. But her editor has just learned of an interesting story in Beijing that Maggie could cover. Sam Liang, a Chinese-American, has returned to Beijing to open a new restaurant, paying homage to the grand tradition of famous chefs of the imperial era. In fact, he is descended from the Last Chinese Chef who worked for the Dowager Empress. Maggie is a woman consumed by grief, surviving in a bubble of memories that has just been shattered. Did she really know her husband? Did he really love her? How could he have fathered this child, AND kept it a secret from her? Dealing with such a claim would be difficult and trying enough in America. But now she finds herself in a city where she does not understand the language, culture or customs, and must rely on strangers to help her. Her planned article on Sam Liang is the only area where she can feel somewhat normal as a journalist, researching her subject and crafting the written portrait. They are both surprised to find in one another an ally and friend, and they nurture one another with food, with understanding, with encouragement and with hope.Mones deftly combines Sam’s story with Maggie’s, and with the tradition and history of Chinese cuisine, philosophy, culture and dining. The descriptions of the menus and dishes are nothing short of delicious – a sensory feast of tastes, sounds, smells, textures, and visual images. Just as much attention is paid to developing these characters; Mones reveals them a little at a time allowing the reader to get to know them as they deal with various disappointments and unexpected joys. There were a few times when Mones switched narrators that momentarily confused me, but it didn’t take long to understand where she was going with these sections, and then appreciate how they contributed to developing the characters and story. Take your time reading it – savor every page.
—Book Concierge
