21
" I reached for turmeric, soft and yellow, rich but not spicy---Paul. Trent, cumin seeds---fresh, ready to be crushed. But I knew. Mashing would not crush them, it would only soften their edges, crack their husks. Cumin was strong. It endured. Next I added coriander, which seemed to balance the mixture, then paprika, ginger, and a touch of cayenne. I picked up the pestle and ground the spices. The cumin seeds rolled over the others as I ground them against the stone. Scent wafted up. It was a very Moroccan mixture, and it fit my mood---spicy and aggressive, underpinned by subtle questions and hesitancy. "
― Katherine Reay , Lizzy and Jane
23
" Great writers and my mom never used food as an object. Instead it was a medium, a catalyst to mend hearts, to break down barriers, to build relationships. Mom's cooking fed body and soul. She used to quip, "If the food is good, there's no need to talk about the weather." That was my mantra for years---food as meal and conversation, a total experience.
I leaned my forehead against the glass and thought again about Emma and the arrowroot. Mom had highlighted it in my sophomore English class. "Jane Fairfax knew it was given with a selfish heart. Emma didn't care about Jane, she just wanted to appear benevolent."
"That girl was stupid. She was poor and should've accepted the gift." The football team had hooted for their spokesman.
"That girl's name was Jane Fairfax, and motivation always matters." Mom's glare seared them.
I tried to remember the rest of the lesson, but couldn't. I think she assigned a paper, and the football team stopped chuckling.
Another memory flashed before my eyes. It was from that same spring; Mom was baking a cake to take to a neighbor who'd had a knee replacement.
"We don't have enough chocolate." I shut the cabinet door.
"We're making an orange cake, not chocolate."
"Chocolate is so much better."
"Then we're lucky it's not for you. Mrs. Conner is sad and she hurts and it's spring. The orange cake will not only show we care, it'll bring sunshine and spring to her dinner tonight. She needs that."
"It's just a cake."
"It's never just a cake, Lizzy."
I remembered the end of that lesson: I rolled my eyes----Mom loathed that----and received dish duty. But it turned out okay; the batter was excellent.
I shoved the movie reel of scenes from my head. They didn't fit in my world. Food was the object. Arrowroot was arrowroot. Cake was cake. And if it was made with artisan dark chocolate and vanilla harvested by unicorns, all the better. People would crave it, order it, and pay for it. Food wasn't a metaphor---it was the commodity---and to couch it in other terms was fatuous. The one who prepared it best won. "
― Katherine Reay , Lizzy and Jane
24
" We ordered way too much food, but Vietnamese is a cuisine I don't try often, and I wanted to absorb every taste and texture. We started with the signature Tamarind Tree Rolls---salad rolls with fresh herbs, fried tofu, peanuts, fresh coconut, and jicama. We then moved on to the Crispy Prawn Baguette---a lightly fried prawn and baguette served with hoisin and fresh chili sauce. I was impressed at how light and crisp the batter was----it was no more than a dusting.
For a main course Nick ordered a curry chicken braised with potato and served with fresh lime and chili sauce. I couldn't help myself---I ordered the beef stew. I do this almost anywhere I go, because the cultural permutations are infinite. This one was fresh and citrusy with a dash of carrot, lime, pepper, and salt. I mentally developed some changes for my next stew. We also ordered green beans stir fried with garlic, and Shrimp Patty Noodles---a frothy bowl of vermicelli noodles, tomatoes, fresh bean sprouts, shredded morning glory, and banana blossoms. "
― Katherine Reay , Lizzy and Jane
26
" Persuasion?"
"I grabbed it this morning. Can we read it next?" Jane's eyes were still closed.
I ran my hand over the cover. "Why not? I could use a happy ending."
"Austen always gives us that."
"True, but she gave us more in this one. This one's the real deal."
And for me it was. Without ever losing sight or diminishing Anne's reality and social limitations, Austen gave her and all of us the soft, steady hope of second chances, happiness, true love, and the promise that life might be better close to thirty than it was at eighteen. It was also an ending that didn't arrive with a ball and bow, but shot straight to the heart with the accuracy and power of a tipped arrow. And, as I visualized my face cream collection, we got to look better too. After all, Anne was a "very pretty girl" at eighteen. I contend she looked even better when her "bloom" returned. "
― Katherine Reay , Lizzy and Jane
27
" I never thought about food like that, but it makes sense. You aren't a different person when you read versus when you eat or do anything else----everything in us does intersect, I guess..." Cecilia's voice drifted away as she thought, and a blush suffused her face. "Put it that way, I see why I eat terribly. I love American teenage food, and it fits with my soft spot for eighties teen movies. You know, Breakfast Club, Sixteen Candles, Pretty in Pink... I even dress like that when I feel sad. Austen's much more intellectual."
"That's Jane. If it makes you feel better, I read only cookbooks, and they really shouldn't count as real books." I thought for a moment. "But I never forget a food reference."
"Never?"
I shrugged. "It's a gift."
"Sixteen Candles?"
"The cake, of course. Oh, but there's that quiche dinner too. See? Sixteen Candles and Dickens---all about breakfast."
"Under the Tuscan Sun?"
"Never read it, but I'm assuming a ton of Italian?"
"That was obvious." Cecilia smiled. "What's your favorite food reference?"
"I've got two. I think the best opening line in literature is Peter Mayle's A Year in Provence. 'The year began with lunch.' All books and all years should begin that way."
"And the other?"
"Coldtonguecoldhamcoldbeefpickledgherkinssaladfrenchrollscressandwichespottedmeatgingerbeerlemonadesodawater-----"
"That's too much!" She laughed.
"That's exactly what Mole said. But Rat said, 'It's only what I always take on these little excursions, and the other animals are always telling me that I'm a mean beast and cut it VERY fine!'" I grinned. "I love that line."
"What's that even from?"
"The Wind in the Willows. It's the best picnic ever. "
― Katherine Reay , Lizzy and Jane