Eleven-year-old Luz Maria Costilla has a gut-wrenching way of storytelling. She’s a lot like Scout, daughter of Atticus Finch. Unfortunately, Luz’s father is nothing like Harper Lee’s heroic character. Nonetheless, in Mario Alberto Zambrano’s debut novel, Loteria, Luz is full of grit and independence.
Loteria is a game of chance, popular in Mexico, designed around cards each of which features an image rather than a number. The images, through riddles, are called out by the game’s dealer. The novel of the same name is built around the cards as Luz recounts the disintegration of her family and how she became a ward of the state of California. It’s rich with humor, sorrow and vivid imagery thanks to the game. The irony is that Luz isn’t talking; she has a journal and the cards to speak for her. Some knowledge of Spanish is helpful.
Luz loves her father. She sees past his many faults: he’s violent, he drinks, and has questionable parenting skills. In his own way, he loves his wife, his elder daughter Estrella and Luz. A few other relatives come in and out of the narrative, but the focus is on this nuclear family. For the El Borracho card, Luz recounts, “When Papi sang in the backyard I’d dance to whatever song he sang. He’d be a little drunk under the light of the porch, and for every four sips he took, I took one.” Not every card is as obvious in its intent, but as Luz puts them together they come to life.
Loteria
Four Bookmarks
HarperCollins, 2013
270 pages
Bouchon Bistro used to only offer fried chicken dinners once a month. Reservations filled within minutes; sometimes it felt like having one wrong lottery number. Now the odds are a little better: the crispy fried chicken in Thomas Keller’s restaurant is served twice monthly.
Although, the regular menu is available, I have to wonder why anyone would consider it. The sides, aren’t always the same, but by all accounts the chicken has a consistently high wow factor. Recently, the meal included fork-crushed potatoes, pole bean salad and Parker House rolls. The chicken is the star of the night. Plump from soaking in a lemon/herb brine for more than 12 hours, it’s deep-fried for a coating that shatters as soon as it meets your lips.
(Keller has numerous dining establishments. He’s authored several cookbooks, including Ad Hoc at Home featuring the fried chicken recipe. The description of the process and lengthy list of ingredients intrigued me, so last winter I tried it. It was good to know that, with fortitude and lots of time, the chicken can be made at home very close to what Bouchon serves. Keller also edits Finesse, a beautifully-designed magazine with articles celebrating the beauty of kitchens: design, cooking, gadgets and techniques.)
Back to that chicken, it’s juicy on the inside and crunchy on the outside for the perfect combination of texture and taste: buttermilk, rosemary and thyme. The bean salad in bacon vinaigrette, although flavorful, wasn’t as stellar as the creamy potatoes and rolls; even with a chicken-only meal I’d feel like a winner.
Bouchon Bistro
Five Plates
235 North Canon Dr.
Beverly Hills, Calif.
I hadn’t heard of Jim Gaffigan before his appearance on “Late Night With Jimmy Fallon” this past spring. Then I saw his name as an author on the library’s list of most requested books. I thought he was funny and decided to get in line for Dad is Fat. It was actually a long line. Although I enjoyed the book, I have to wonder if the library only ordered one copy.
Gaffigan writes about his life as the father of five young children. He, his wife and their brood live in a two-bedroom apartment in New York City. It’s a small space full of chaos, fun and lots of love. No aspect of parenting is off limits. He addresses everything from attending church to going to the park, from getting babysitters to sleeping — at least trying to. He writes, “I love the fact that if my children wake up scared or are feeling lonely, they can come in our bed. I just wish each and every one of them didn’t do it every single night.”
His humor blends sarcasm with self-deprecation. He considers his wife a saint, albeit a fertile one. Gaffigan is in the right career as a comedian, and his voice adjusts well to the page.
The book provides several laugh-out-loud moments, but after a while they start to wear thin. For people of a certain age, his family may sound reminiscent of sit-coms from the 1960s. Perhaps someday it will be the basis of one on a cable channel.
Dad is Fat
Three Bookmarks
Crown Archetype, 2013
274 pages
Food trucks are an interesting phenomenon. They have a very different persona from other dining venues. After all, the cooking takes place in hot, cramped quarters – on wheels, which means they could be gone tomorrow. However, downtown Colorado Springs has a food truck court thanks to Curbside Cuisine in the paved area of a one-time gas station. On any given day, between the hours of 6:30 a.m. and 8 p.m., made-to-order food is being served.
While perusing the menus of the various trucks (whose offerings on our recent visit included pizzas, wraps, crepes and the two we selected: Creole Kitchen and Maco’s Tacos), a woman walking away from the former, said, “The Shrimp Po’boy is to die for.” It had already caught my eye. There was further affirmation when I ordered: “That’s my best seller,” said the owner. And with good reason. Tender, lightly-breaded shrimp fried so quickly there’s no hint of oil, sit on a roll slathered with tangy remoulade loaded with lettuce and tomatoes. It could be habit forming.
The tacos were less impressive, although they’re a bargain at four for $5. The chicken was subtly seasoned, as was the pork, but both were overpowered by an abundance of diced onion and fresh cilantro – fortunately, I like those flavors. Burritos and tamales are other options at Maco’s.
The beauty of Curbside Cuisine is that the trucks are likely to consistently be in the same spot. Although, I’d follow Creole Kitchen almost anywhere.
Curbside Cuisine
Four Plates
225 N. Nevada Ave.
(Southeast corner of Nevada and Platte avenues)
Colorado Springs, Colo.
Titles, like first lines, can make or break a novel’s appeal. Certainly, if Meg Wolitzer had called her most recent book The Borings, instead of The Interestings, it might not have garnered much attention (which it has). Yet, there’s something pretentious about it, which is just the tone – along with some irony – the author instills in this contemporary epic about friendship, love, human potential and disappointment.
Wolitzer’s account moves back and forth through time, but it all pivots around the beginning which occurs at a camp for the arts in the summer of 1974. “The Interestings” is the name six teenagers give themselves; it’s meant to separate them from everyone else in camp. They’re talented, to varying degrees, mostly privileged and self-absorbed. Even as they move through adulthood, they carry those same qualities. Yes, they mature and Wolitzer is at her best illustrating their personal struggles and triumphs, but they can’t quite shake idea of their old moniker.
The power of friendship, particularly among four of the six, is an underlying theme and it, more than anything else, drives the novel. The characters’ ability to fit in and accept themselves also delivers some impact.
The exhaustive story spans more than five decades in a way that’s reminiscent of Forest Gump. Instead of a sound track to identify the passage of time, Wolitzer relies largely on political events. Although the characters are interesting, it’s not as much as they think – or as much as we want them to be.
The Interestings
Four Bookmarks
Riverhead Books, 2013
468 pages
Denise Kiernan’s The Girls of Atomic City: The Untold Story of the Women Who Helped Win World War II made me wonder if it would appeal to anyone unfamiliar with Oak Ridge, Tenn. I lived in Oak Ridge for five years after college. It was a beautiful, fascinating place thanks to its population of highly educated people from all over the world and its impressive, albeit once-clandestine, past. Kiernan writes about how, and why, the town came into existence by focusing on the role of the thousands of women (and men) who did their part to help end WWII. Most had no idea what they were doing or why.
In 1943, people from major metropolitan areas and rural communities were recruited to relocate to a town which didn’t even exist on a map. Kiernan conducted interviews with many of the women, now in their 80s and 90s, to recreate the conditions they endured knowing only that their work contributed to the war effort. Friendships formed, romances ensued and construction progressed at a rapid rate. All the while no one could talk about their jobs. Yet, this was an integral part of American history.
Uranium, referred to as Tubealloy, was, in fact, being enriched for its ultimate use in the atomic bomb. Oak Ridgers learned about the secret the same time as the rest of the world when Hiroshima was bombed.
The advantage to knowing Oak Ridge is that it’s easy to envision Kiernan’s descriptions, but the book’s fascination is far-reaching.
The Girls of Atomic City: The Untold Story of the Women Who Helped Win World War II
Four Bookmarks
Simon & Schuster, 2013
371 pages with notes and index
Years ago, many restaurants used to close on Mondays nights — perhaps to give staff a break after a busy weekend or to provide the kitchen a chance to restock. There’s also the possibility that the first day of the week was simply not popular for dining out, so restaurateurs decided it wasn’t worth the effort. In any case, I was surprised to discover that Sunday is the new Monday. That is, some fine dining establishments may be open for Sunday brunch, but come mid-afternoon the doors are shuttered. This year my wedding anniversary fell on Sunday. Consequently, The Blue Star was our fortuitous choice.
Apparently a lot of people like The Blue Star on Sunday nights – and with good reason. Not only is the menu inventive, but all bottles of wine are half price. The place was packed, I’m talking about the dining room not just the bar and lounge, which are routinely busy. We started with Swordfish Sugarcane Lollipops. A glistening sauce coated the grilled chunks of skewered fish which were tender with a hint of citrus and spice that found their way into the sauce. Grilled chicken topped with spinach and a roasted red pepper sauce on creamy risotto was delicately rich. Ham, mushrooms, and peas added balance. The flaky Pan Roasted Halibut was served with sweet pea pesto and pasta.
The wine list is a tome. Thanks to the Sunday night special, this made selecting a vintner even more fun than choosing our entrees.
The Blue Star
Four Plates
1645 S. Tejon St.
Colorado Springs, Colo.
Aimee Bender’s second novel, The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake, is quirky but glum. The premise follows Rose, the young narrator, and her ability to discern people’s emotions through the food they prepare. This is in stark contrast to the concept that cooking and eating meals are meant to be enjoyed and shared. Poor Rose must develop a strategy to avoid knowing more than she cares or wants, but, of course, she also has to eat.
It doesn’t help that Rose’s family is on the eccentric side to begin with. Lane, her mother, is flighty. And, as Rose deduces from her mother’s cooking, Lane is also very unhappy. Rose’s father is distant and professional. Her brother, Joe, is a genius void of social skills, with an enigma of his own. Despite the food affliction, Rose is pretty much the clan’s anchor with Joe’s friend, George.
Bender deftly portrays the efforts young Rose endures to, at first, keep her disorder a secret and, eventually, live with it. Rose is wise and perceptive; she is smart enough not to reveal too much. Although there are a few light moments, it’s more than a slice of cake that’s particularly sad. Rose and most everyone around her are all woefully unhappy.
The story’s saving grace is Bender’s writing which blends melancholy with the bizarre, while throwing sensitivity and a bit of wry humor into the mix. She’s also excellent at describing a Los Angeles neighborhood that doesn’t rely on tired landmarks.
The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake
Three-and-and-half Bookmarks
Doubleday, 2010
292 pages
Writers who pay to have their books published often go through the wringer when it comes to perceptions. Such efforts were once identified as vanity-pressed or self-published. Now the preferred term is indie, or independent, publishing. Some indies are poorly constructed, rife with grammatical errors and simply uninteresting; yet many are well-written including Summoning the Strength by Stephanie Briggs. She manages to avoid those most frequent missteps. In fact, she’s really only guilty of not calling on her own strengths, which are plentiful, when it comes to writing.
At 169 pages, Briggs’s novel is all-too brief to accommodate the numerous characters. The account follows Katherine, a small-town girl who endures a disastrous marriage to a wealthy man. She’s interesting and has an especially strong relationship with her mother, which unfortunately, just withers.
Katherine’s unhappiness is tangible because Briggs tells the story in retrospect. However, the explanation for the discontent is one-dimensional. The husband’s a jerk and Katherine’s an intelligent woman too blind to see the obvious.
One problem is the large number of long-lasting friendships Katherine has from her childhood and college days. It’s clear the author appreciates the importance of women’s friendships. However, here’s an instance when having more isn’t necessarily a good thing.
Briggs’s prose is engaging and descriptive, but she could have easily created fuller (and fewer) characters for a richer story. I’ve come to enjoy Briggs’s writing through her blog, Honie Briggs. It’s smart, humorous and meaningful. I suspect her next book will be, too.
Summoning the Strength
Three bookmarks
Briggs& Briggs, 2011
169 pages
Creekside dining at The Wines of Colorado provides a relaxing location; the fact that it was once a convenience store somehow adds to the experience.
One of my friends joked that The Wines should get an award for the best re-use of a 7-Eleven; she’s right. It takes a strong memory, or good imagination, to envision the space as a one-time Slurpee dispenser. The several additions – including a deck and the creekside patio – hide the past well. The restaurant is part wine shop featuring Colorado wines, what else? Since I didn’t have any, I’ll keep my opinion about that to myself.
The food, though, is inventive and surprising. I ordered a portabella stuffed with spinach, diced tomato, feta, herbs, and served with hummus and pita bread on the side. Feta isn’t one of my favorite cheeses, but its slight tanginess and gooey consistency when melted provided a palette-pleasing contrast to the mushroom’s texture. It’s hard to go wrong with smooth, earthy hummus, although I did run out of pita.
My friends ordered the salmon Cesar and the ravioli salads. The smoky, flakey salmon made the Romaine appear superfluous. The latter salad featured large raviolis on a bed of greens, which was a successful combination.
Since it was such a pleasant setting after a hot morning hike, we shared the Carrot Cake for Four. Chock-full of nuts, raisins and flecks of carrots, the rich, thick frosting was like a blanket no one needed.
Oh thank heaven for, well, Wines of Colorado.
The Wines of Colorado
Three-and-half Plates
8045 W. Highway 24
Cascade, Colo.
The Blue Page Special 