First published twenty years ago, The Virgin Suicides by Jeffrey Eugenides remains poignant and rich with dark humor. The account of the Lisbon sisters, whose mere existence – and ultimate demise – captured the attention of their entire community, is told in a plural form of the third person voice representing the neighborhood’s teenage boys. It’s not quite the “royal we” but is an interesting technique nonetheless.
Eugenides’s narrative takes place in a quiet Detroit suburb. Seasons are noted by references to fish-flies, fallen leaves and holiday lights. For the Lisbons, however, there are complications. The narrator(s) rely on observation and references to interviews conducted with other neighbors, teachers and clergy. Mention is also made of several “exhibits” which include medical reports and photographs.
The five sisters range in age from 13 to 17, and the youngest is the first to kill herself. It’s clear not just from this suicide which takes place early in the novel, but also from the title, that the others will follow suit. The narrators share this sense of the girls’ impending self-destruction. Eugenides masterfully creates tension, and toys with the reader suggesting the possibility that, perhaps, the girls will be unsuccessful.
However, this is not a work simply about teen angst with no way out. It is a coming of age chronicle and a love story. The narrator(s) are forever changed by their connection to the Lisbon family, but the impression is that would have been true even without suicide as part of the tale.
The Virgin Suicides
Four Bookmarks
Picador, 1993
243 pages
We aren’t planning any trips to Albuquerque anytime soon, but when we do we’ll make sure to include a stop at a Flying Star Café. There are eight in the Duke City area, plus one in Santa Fe. It’s similar to Panera Bread, but with a far more ambitious menu. Dinner and breakfast are served all day, which means the lunch options are plentiful.
A recent road trip resulted in our introduction to the Flying Star. Orders are placed at the counter, but the fare is delivered to the table. The emphasis is on comfort food that can be prepared quickly without sinking to a fast food template.
I chose the smaller portion of the Buddha Bowl (appropriately called the Baby Buddha). Featuring stir-fried vegetables in a lemongrass-ginger sauce served over brown rice. The ginger adds a nice zing to the medley, and the fried wontons provide texture.
The Macaroni and Cheese has apparently developed a cult-like following among diners trying to discern the types of cheese included in this classic dish. A few years ago, it was the recipient of an area newspaper’s Best Mac and Cheese Award. Curly pasta is coated in a very rich, very creamy cheese sauce. It’s decadent. One of the most elevated, and least expensive, menu items is the $5.99 Grilled Cheese Sandwich: gobs of melted cheddar on toasted sourdough bread.
The café was bustling, but the food provided a nice respite from the basic off-the-highway-for-a-quick-bite meal we’ve settled for in the past.
Flying Star Café
Three-and-a-half Plates
8000 Paseo Del Norte
Albuquerque, N.M.
I took last week off; I read, I hiked, I ate too much, I slept some, I wrote a bit, but mostly I decided to take a break from the Blue Page Special. In the process, I discovered that I missed it.
I just finished reading Tell the Wolves I’m Home by Carol Rifka Brunt and can’t stop thinking about it. Although the writing doesn’t fall into the take-your-breath-away category, the story certainly does. I still want to spend time with the characters: June, a 14-year-old misfit; Greta, her super-achieving sister; Finn, their deceased uncle; and Toby, Finn’s lover.
June is devastated when Finn, her best friend, dies of AIDS. She struggles, then Toby enters her life, and she continues to flounder. Except now she has someone to help her keep Finn’s memory alive. Toby and Finn lived together and, even though she spent a lot of time in their apartment, June never knew about Toby. This aspect has the potential to be implausible; instead, it enhances June’s character as a naïve teenager. Another potentially hard-to-believe feature is the bond that develops between the young girl and the thirty-something Toby. Remarkably, there is never anything creepy or uncomfortable about it. This is largely due to their love for Finn, and the tentative manner in which their friendship evolves. Equally important is the sisters’ relationship.
Brunt masterfully creates relationships that are rich, painful, and grow before our very eyes. The novel is about friendship, first loves, misplaced jealousy and sibling relationships. Set in the mid 1980s, AIDS has just begun to make itself felt in American culture. Yet, that is simply a background element. This is a coming-of-age story that considers the way people change based on age, interests, opportunities, and circumstances.
Tell the Wolves I’m Home
Four-and-a-half Bookmarks
The Dial Press, 2012
355 pages
Where’d You Go, Bernadette by Maria Semple is engaging, funny, poignant, and even a bit silly. Set primarily in Seattle, the story also includes a few situations in Los Angeles and the Antarctic as Bernadette Fox tries to ward off a nervous breakdown in an environment seemingly designed to push her over the edge.
Bernadette is a semi-misanthrope; she dislikes nearly everyone except her husband, Elgie, and their daughter, Bee. Bernadette doesn’t make it easy to like her. She refuses to get involved with the parent groups at Bee’s school, and she avoids interaction – no matter how casual – with others to such an extreme that she relies on a virtual personal assistant who lives in India.
Semple has created an appealing dysfunctional family that has trouble meshing with an often-dysfunctional world. Bernadette, a one-time architect, is, in fact, a genius; she’s a past recipient of a McArthur Foundation Genius Grant. But she responds to stressful situations through radical reactions, including disappearing. Bernadette’s story is told through emails, letters and mostly Bee’s eyes. Bee is no intellectual slouch herself. She’s convinced there’s a logical explanation for her mother’s absence. And here’s where the real adventure begins as Bee sets off to find Bernadette.
Russian spies, potential identity thieves, private school students, and parents blind to their children’s excesses and foibles are just a few of the extras populating Semple’s novel. There are plenty of laugh-out-loud situations as well as a few shoulder-shrugging moments as Bee, who has a very good understanding of her mother, refuses to stop looking.
Where’d You Go, Bernadette
Four-and-a-half Bookmarks
Little, Brown and Co., 2012
326 pages
Josephine’s in Flagstaff, Ariz., describes itself as a “Modern American Bistro,” which is an apt description. The only missing detail is how successful it is at reaching its mark.
The occasion being celebrated, the companionship of the dining party, the holiday ambiance inside – and out, thanks to a mid-December snowstorm – and the homelike comfort of the restaurant contributed to an excellent dining experience. Without a doubt, though, the quality of the food was the exclamation point. The interior and exterior of the craftsman-style bungalow are captivating. Listed on the National Historic Register, it’s easy to be distracted by the stonework, wainscoting and exposed beams. Still, the food is the real attraction.
The menu features fewer than a dozen entrees; several in our group had trouble making choices. I was torn: Diablo Shrimp Macaroni and Cheese, Josephine’s Pot Pie or Smoked Pork Tenderloin with Ranchero Sauce. I thought the Eggplant Enchilada also sounded intriguing.
When placing our orders, the server consistently said “Great choice” or “Very nice.” I pointed this out, to which he responded, “What can I say? Everything is fantastic.”
I was very pleased with my pot pie. Simmering beneath the flakey pastry were tender pieces of beef, mushrooms and other vegetables in a rich wine sauce. The savory beef practically melted in my mouth. I sampled the mac and cheese, with plump, juicy shrimp, which had a spicy kick in a gouda cheese sauce.
Although the events may not conspire to recreate this perfect dining experience, I am confident the food will.
Josephine’s
Five Plates
503 N. Humphreys St.
Flagstaff, Ariz.
Four of the six people having breakfast together at Adams Mountain Café wanted the Planet Burger, a blend of brown rice, roasted nuts, onions and cheese. The only problem was that it’s on the lunch menu. Although we pleaded with our server to ask the kitchen to make this possible, she politely, but unfortunately, recited those all-too-familiar words: “If we make an exception for you, we have to make an exception for everyone.”
Only somewhat reluctantly, we ordered traditional breakfast entrees. Of course, at Adams this is not a problem and our collective disappointment was short-lived. Adams is popular for many reasons. It appeals to runners, hikers, shoppers and friends wanting a comfortable place to eat where the food is reliably fresh and good. It’s not uncommon to wait for a table – especially during breakfast service. It’s worth the time.
I ordered the omelet special which, on this particular day, was filled with sliced fresh tomatoes, mushrooms, fresh basil, mozzarella and sprinkled with truffle oil. The licorice flavor of the basil mingled well with the decadent truffle oil. Omelets at Adams are made with three farm-fresh eggs and are light, without being full of air. In fact, the menu describes them as being “French style.”
Other fare includes plate-size pancakes, French toast, homemade cinnamon rolls, a variety of egg dishes and oatmeal. Most meals come with fresh fruit or slices of sunflower whole grain toast. Until, the Planet Burger is served before 11 a.m., it’s easy to “settle” for something else.
Adams Mountain Café
Four Plates
934 Manitou Ave.
Manitou Springs, Colo.
When our boys were little, and not so little, we read to them. Often, that wasn’t enough for our middle son, Tim, who insisted on a special story as he was tucked into bed each night. These were the Tim Stories, and each one always began the same way: Once upon a time there was a little boy named Tim whose parents loved him very much…
I don’t remember when the Tim Stories stopped, but the reading aloud continued for many, many years. We read at night. We read in the car on road trips. We read on camping trips, in tents when it rained or by the campfire with the help of a flashlight when it was clear. We read series written by C.S. Lewis, Lemony Snicket and J.K. Rowlands. Heck, we had a book we read during dinner for a while. It was a fun one about manners (Do I have to Say Hello by Delia Ephron). We read a lot out loud.
Reading has always been hard for Tim. Although he struggled with it in school, he developed some great strategies. He is an excellent listener, he discovered books on tape, and he learned to ask questions for clarification, for help. He studied with tutors. He worked more than his brothers, harder than his friends or anyone else around.
This week Tim graduates from college — early. And, he still knows a good story when he hears one: Once upon a time there was a young man named Tim whose parents love him very much…
I know a few local chefs by name; I know a lot about others from different places, thanks to the books they write – and the Food Network or Bravo. The latter is where Marcus Samuelsson’s name surfaced on my radar. His memoir, Yes, Chef, provides a detailed, honest look at how he emerged onto the contemporary food scene.
Samuelsson begins his story with a powerful sentence that has nothing to do with food, but everything to do with who he is: “I have never seen a picture of my mother.” He shares how he and his sister made their way from Ethiopia to Goteborg (Gothenburg), Sweden, where they were adopted by Lennart and Anne Marie Samuelsson. He learned to cook by watching his grandmother. He learned technique by apprenticing in Switzerland, France and the United States.
As much as the memoir is about his progression through various kitchens, Yes, Chef is also about finding passion, experiencing prejudice and learning how these disparate aspects can be powerful motivators. Samuelsson reveals his flaws, his quirks as well as his strengths in a straightforward voice.
Ethiopian by birth, Swedish through adoption, and now a naturalized U.S. citizen, Samuelsson might seem an unlikely poster boy in the food world. Yet, it is his internationality that makes him so appealing. His quest as a chef, as he says, was to “chase flavors.” So far, it appears to be quite a pursuit.
Yes, Chef
Three-and-a-half Bookmarks
Random House, 2012
315 pages
Beef brisket is one of the toughest cuts of meat around. In the right hands, it’s rendered fork-tender and full of flavor. Of course, it takes several hours to get that way, but Front Range Barbeque has both the touch and the time to get the right results.
The restaurant, in a modified bungalow in Old Colorado City, has several small, crowded rooms and a large outdoor dining area. The latter is enclosed and heated for year-round seating. It’s a comfortable setting for live music. Front Range is homey, busy and is a place to make friends with the people at nearby tables – because these are such cramped quarters. Servers maneuver through the small maze of diners, and everyone keeps their elbows close.
Once the food arrives, it’s easy to forget the jam-packed conditions and enjoy the meal. Besides the fall-apart-beef, Front Range knows how to do sides. The baked beans are thick with molasses and bits of shredded pork. Coleslaw is creamy, but not excessively so. The platters also feature mini-cornbread muffins and thinly-sliced onion rings.
The cooked-to-perfection meat takes center stage with its charred coat. It’s served dry, but three sauces, made in-house, provide the opportunity to enhance the taste. There’s Original Tangy, Sweet n’ Spicy, Mustard Wine. The latter is an unusual combination of Dijon mustard and white wine. It complemented the French fries better than it did the meat. The tangy has too much vinegar, while the sweet and spicy is just the right yin-yang combination.
Front Range Barbeque
Almost-Four Plates
2330 W. Colorado Ave.
Colorado Springs, CO
Often, stories within stories are enchanting, muddled, lopsided or boring. Fortunately, Winter Garden by Kristin Hannah is captivating without any confusion. One narrative is not more interesting than the other; both have equal appeal.
Much of what makes Hannah’s novel so successful is the clever way in which her characters evolve. Sisters Meredith and Nina are grown women who have always basked in the light of their father’s love. Meredith is the older sister, pragmatic and harried; Nina lives the adventurous life of a freelance photographer. Theirs is not a close a relationship. If not for Evan, their father, there would be little for anyone in the family to hold dear.
Unlike Evan, their mother is a cold, distant woman incapable of showing or articulating affection. This could be a black and white story, but Hannah has enough sense, and talent, to show the nuances. A secret past, painful memories and the harsh reality of war culminate in a fairy tale the sisters’ mother is ultimately compelled to tell. The story moves from the idyllic, contemporary life on the family’s apple orchard to cold, war-torn Russia. Like any good fairy tale, this one begins with a handsome prince, an evil overseer, and a young girl who falls in love.
As the fairy tale evolves, it’s clear this the only way the mother can explain herself and for her daughters to recognize their own strengths, weaknesses and connections. There’s nothing jumbled in either side of Hannah’s engaging account.
Winter Garden
Four Bookmarks
St. Martin’s Griffin, 2010
391 pages
The Blue Page Special 