tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17294030351153900332023-11-16T02:57:18.939-08:00Read 'Em and Eat: Books, Food, ReviewsReviews of culinary mysteries, fiction, chef memoirs and the occasional issue of Gastronomica.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger60125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729403035115390033.post-42767443921630691372020-03-31T12:53:00.000-07:002020-03-31T12:53:37.303-07:00The Cornbread Dilemmawhich is not a culinary mystery but totally should be. <br />
<br />
Instead the dilemma is this: Lou Jane Temple's <a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1729403035115390033">The Cornbread Killer</a> has the most perfect recipe for cornbread I've ever come across, even substituting plain old milk for the buttermilk. And yet the book itself? Four attempts and I've never yet gotten past chapter two. I should probably give it another shot, though, if I'm going to make this recipe YET AGAIN. <br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729403035115390033.post-52903593389629054462012-11-30T20:31:00.002-08:002012-11-30T20:32:10.012-08:00Morsel: Macaroni and murder<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Where's Cassie been?" my mother asked after dinner. She had made macaroni and cheese -- she has some idea that this is my favorite dish (which it may well have been, at some point in my life) and she cooks it, as a small timid expression of sympathy, whenever something in the papers indicates that a case of mine isn't going well. Even the smell of it makes me claustrophobic and itchy. </blockquote>
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--Tana French, <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/237209.In_the_Woods">In the Woods</a></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729403035115390033.post-38150975135206237232012-08-20T09:21:00.000-07:002012-08-20T09:21:32.906-07:00Morsel: Death Notes (2005)<blockquote>I skipped my run, showered, brewed a quick pot on the Mr Coffee and found a box of Cheerios I'd forgotten I owned. The milk in the fridge had gone sour, though, so I threw the whole mess out and ate an Italian pastry from Cafe Roma in the car on the way out to her place.
--Gloria White, <A href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/372568.Death_Notes">Death Notes</a></blockquote>
P.I.s eat like crap.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729403035115390033.post-75590184220209815142012-06-07T16:32:00.000-07:002012-06-07T16:32:10.292-07:00Morsel: Leave a Message for Willie (1984)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3DC1ooeQwAiyMThdQjoXe5IBNGQQCTIVwNh2mno6E7_W4l4xKq9llPiXv-j4-OKV2vvUGb7hzTpL-_8t4iRHfc_RG8hBNwfPxwDWgfxul5ETb-uBQ9keIpHddtwTd2VBL-0q_rPPfOAax/s1600/285181-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3DC1ooeQwAiyMThdQjoXe5IBNGQQCTIVwNh2mno6E7_W4l4xKq9llPiXv-j4-OKV2vvUGb7hzTpL-_8t4iRHfc_RG8hBNwfPxwDWgfxul5ETb-uBQ9keIpHddtwTd2VBL-0q_rPPfOAax/s320/285181-L.jpg" /></a>
<blockquote>I retrieved my snow cone from Don and started off in the direction the man had pointed.<br><br>The cone was melting fast, and I tilted the paper cup clumsily, smearing the sticky liquid on my face and hands. Don, used to my minor mishaps by now, merely rolled his eyes as I fished out a Kleenex.<br><br>"Well, it's melting faster than it should," I said, scrubbing at my chin.<br><br>"I know." He squeezed my shoulder and continued eating his own cone, which seemed to be surviving just fine.</blockquote>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729403035115390033.post-88400604965821679532012-06-03T09:50:00.000-07:002012-06-03T09:50:00.611-07:00Edible books: Who Fears Death, by Nnedi OkoraforI don't think I'd ever have the heart to eat it though.
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<a href="http://twitpic.com/9lzw3s" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgl2aekhfIpuViBNrOuOo4p-WhJ_DK_izVx_KJDiK-2zB6188f2aM53vtU127Ldil8VIWEzYkLGcqozV0Sh4eMwB_3wXi_xCEmgKTzOLADyPoem4vHUvX6rPMKIyIeJbAlW5qHX9hnPx6R/s320/whofearsdeath.jpg" /></a></div>
The truffles surrounding it, on the other hand, would be history.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729403035115390033.post-39872063740082349882012-06-02T08:53:00.001-07:002012-06-02T08:56:59.625-07:00Review: Fudge Cupcake Murder (2005)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/136862.Fudge_Cupcake_Murder" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="136" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzymMm7wKPOe1Palxf5DklMk7D6hc3EClf8RvtmSnaDKPgQkHgPNNHEYox2YFW6LaPuD-Ej-jbqqrrOiOt5JizBBsQf1wqZ6NV00YYVgeX7X1paoi246ZvVU0QPpO31-Drw4uA7dir-eZp/s200/fudge_cupcake.jpg" /></a></div>
<blockquote>The last of the customers had left, the front door of The Cookie Jar was locked, and Hannah and Lisa were in the kitchen, mixing up the cookie dough for the following day. Lisa tore off a strip of plastic wrap to cover a batch of Chocolate-Cherry cookies and glanced up at the clock. "Hannah?"<br><br>"Hmm?" Hannah retrieved the chocolate she'd melted for her batch of Black and Whites and added it to her mixing bowl.<br><br>"It's getting late and you've got class tonight. Why don't you go home now?"<br><br>Hannah glanced over at her petite partner and smiled. "You're still a teenager and you're trying to mother <i>me</i>?"</blockquote>
<b>Synopsis:</b> Yes, yes she is. Because almost everyone in Lake Eden tries to mother Hannah Swensen, owner of The Cookie Jar. In this episode, in what's to become a recurring theme in the series, a body is discovered with Cookie Jar products all over, giving Hannah an excuse to investigate and do things she should probably be thrown in jail for.<br><br>
<b>Grade:</b> B-<br><br>
In this fifth installment of the Cookie Jar series, Hannah continues to be torn between responsible Norman and hot n' sexy Mike and--<br><br>
Lady? PICK A DUDE. Or just come right out and tell them you're poly, and let the cards fall where they may.<br><br>
Also, the sheriff gets murdered, covered in Hannah's fudge frosting (not as sexy as it sounds -- this is after all, Lake Eden) and brother-in-law Bill falls under suspicion for the deed.
So there's good news and bad news about this book. The good news is that even though you can tell whodunnit on page 150, this is a decent book, and the author's found a couple of great ways to perk up the series: developing Andrea as a likeable character, giving the mom a beau to make her seem more human and less demonic (Laura Childs take note for possibilities for Delaine), and giving Michelle intriguing deviousness. The bad news is that there are 100 pages in the middle I just didn't care about, and I cannot believe the protagonist runs her own successful business, bakeshop or no, because in 300 pages, she spent so little time there that I'm amazed no one's stealing from the registers or smashing the windows. But overall a solid entry with great recipes.<br><br>
Also, I am seriously in love with the cover designs for this series. I'll freely admit I'm a cover junkie, and for awhile I thought the whole "hide skulls in the details" cozy cover fad had died out. Very glad to see it alive and well with these. Seriously. Frameable.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729403035115390033.post-80355277965709859052012-05-30T14:40:00.001-07:002012-06-02T10:24:12.642-07:00A morsel from: The Not-So-Spangled Life of Sunita Sen (1993)<blockquote>
In the kitchen, Mom was stirring something at the stove. Liz was happily eating a samosa -- a pocket of bread stuffed with curried potatoes and onions. Sunita's grandmother squatted on a small stool, singing loudly with the music. A sharp, curved blade attached to a piece of wood and a basket were on the floor between her feet. Holding a chili pepper between the thumb and forefinger of both hands, she pushed it against the blade. Her fingers moved quickly. The blade flashed through the pepper and pieces of the chili fell into the basket.<br />
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Sunita dumped the ashes from the incense holder into the garbage can. "Why can't she use a knife and cutting board instead of that thing?" she asked her mother.</blockquote>
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--<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/198517.The_Not_So_Star_Spangled_Life_of_Sunita_Sen">The Not-So-Spangled Life of Sunita Sen </a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729403035115390033.post-56010429456051801312012-04-21T10:45:00.002-07:002012-04-21T10:47:50.330-07:00Review: An Appetite for Murder (2012)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/An-Appetite-For-Murder-Mystery/dp/0451235517/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1335030235&sr=8-1" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="280" width="174" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSjttbRBj2AXy5UWt6JUk1eiH-SELhrX84GaVKaPHn6ieJk9ATxhzM_hJs1KWvaCaObJ6cMwa2XrIg1cj1q1G_bh_OvN5oyGq5iQCrXqSHZg9-Zp3_JIag3AFOhwsu6c0R3lakVW3hv73i/s320/appetiteformurder.jpg" /></a></div>
<blockquote>Stars were spackled across the sky and I could hear the strains of country music from a houseboat a few slips away. The spooky termite-ridden boat in the next row that was covered with a red tarp labeled "Poison!" receded into the shadows. And darkness hid the cruiser two doors down that was so full of trash that passersby could no longer see in the windows. Along with Miss Gloria, many of the residents had threaded their rooflines with little white lights in anticipation of the holidays. From this perspective, it really did look like paradise.
</blockquote>
<b>Synopsis:</b> Hayley Snow, adrift in Key West after being dumped by her lawyer boyfriend, applies for the food critic job at his new girlfriend's magazine. <i>Awkward</i>. Then the new girlfriend eats a poisoned pie and the police come looking for Hayley.<br><br>
<b>Grade:</b> D<br><Br>
This book was so confusing. It started off so strong: a plucky, down-at-the-heels freelance writer living on a houseboat in Key West, applying for a food critic job, hanging out with her best friend, eating interesting things, kooky family thing going. Then BAM! The murder happens, the writer's suspected of it...and...the whole book...just...slowed...right...down. <br><br>
And then worse than that, it got mean and expected its readers to be stupid. <br><br>
To be clear: Hayley Snow, when framed for murder, recognizes that she's screwing up her friendships by her investigations into the crime <i>then keeps right on investigating</i>. On top of that, the solution didn't track for me, and the missing cat and tarot reading subplots felt jammed in for...some sake that I never quite understood? <br><br>
Then at the end there's the obligatory Investigating Officer Asks Out Suspect After Apologizing Profusely For Doing His Job, which was so stiff and painful that it felt like poor Detective Bransford was being herded toward Hayley with a cattle prod. And it made even less sense given that there'd been zero romantic tension between them the entire investigation and the author had made a point of noting that Hayley's neighbor thought the detective was attractive and she didn't. ...Buh? <br><br>
The Key West setting is richly detailed and exotic, but I had to force myself to finish this one.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729403035115390033.post-44399098878949783862012-04-10T14:48:00.001-07:002012-04-10T14:48:37.231-07:00Foodies Read 2 ChallengeIn an effort to work more culinary mysteries into my reading schedule, I signed up for the <a href="http://foodiesread2.wordpress.com/">2012 Foodies Read 2</a> challenge, hosted by the lovely Joyfully Retired. I'm aiming for the Cordon-Bleu Chef level (more than 19 books -- woo!) and getting to hear about some great food books from the other participants.<br />
<br />
Bon appetit!<br />
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<a href="http://foodiesread2.wordpress.com/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEB62a65evT5dn2FsDlabYhOS0U0edtDBrtflKO4RnFqSN0xbpLy56V4Qle7M8sOGRHZwHzyb4BEbUMWP9lJv7dmqMv2uhlZxlK6jsYoqZ1ftgzYaYg8nR64cq4E07Jw_O8eFw60cF9GdH/s1600/fr2button.png" /></a></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729403035115390033.post-75332298450065276512012-03-24T17:15:00.000-07:002012-03-24T17:18:22.228-07:00Review: Lemon Meringue Pie Murder (2003)<blockquote>
It seemed that people could walk through life without causing a ripple, leading ordinary and uneventful lives. It was only after they'd been murdered that people took notice of them. And that thought was depressing.<br />
<br />
Hannah sighed as she approached the private booth where her mother, Carrie, and Norman waited. There was only one cure for depression and that was chocolate. If her mother's cake wasn't gone by now, it would be shortly.</blockquote>
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Meringue-Murder-Hannah-Swensen-Mysteries/dp/0758215045/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1332633637&sr=8-1" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO0fToQPqamVXeQuLCHD_lUP34SXL5TL5t4HjSBlXZm7NkBoJZ0YQPpfYlPo_Gbjz0I2l2T8sdT3wJNbo3WI5sx332hfcXxVFYGRh3a79exsyIf_C_IfRLKpb5M2hVm_nWETIP0KIO_k_g/s320/lemon_meringue.JPG" width="120" /></a></div>
<b>Synopsis:</b> <i>It's summer in Lake Eden and Hannah's younger sister Michelle is coming home for a visit. But before the family reunion can get under way, Hannah discovers the body of a local resident in the woman's basement. The only clue is one of Hannah's luscious lemon meringue pies on the kitchen counter with only one slice missing...even though from the looks of the victim's kitchen, she was planning an intimate dinner for two.</i><br />
<br />
<b>Grade:</b> C<br />
<br />
This is the first entry in the series that has struck a sour note with me (ba-dum-CHA!). The usually likeable Hannah here turns into a prude, sputtering with righteous indignation at such afronts as green hair, short skirts, alcohol and the possibility of romance for the developmentally disabled. She's becoming very difficult to stomach (rrrrrrrrimshot! Okay, I'll stop.) <br />
<br />
Luckily, Lake Eden is still well-realized and interesting, the tension with her mother is still well done and the addition of a third Swensen sister is outstanding. The recipes are outstanding (the Cinnamon Crisps in particular sound amazing). <br />
<br />
But Hannah needs to just pick a dude already. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729403035115390033.post-40845900949227207962012-02-27T06:09:00.002-08:002012-02-27T06:10:10.698-08:00Review: Death by the Dozen (2011)<blockquote>
<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/10549062-death-by-the-dozen" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVAi8Jnc9WBPU5EUryCpnA4MWFRxzjCVw124pyNjbJMeS4eWey_MxMqibjD70AQCS539a5KUcyNpvvxqhsPm1oDwnT4qoov0BoU4GuG8zkuYTvc3h-mOflR4-HsCg5LWltesZBLtDy48k/s320/Death+by+the+Dozen.jpg" width="198" /></a>"Does Vic know you're on of the judges?" Mel asked. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
"I'm sure he must," Dutch said. "I was surprised he left <i>World Chef</i> to come and be a judge. But then, I'm sure when he realized it was another opportunity to screw me over, he jumped at the chance." </blockquote>
<blockquote>
"Dutch, be serious." Mel shook her head. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
"I am. They were filming in India, so why would he leave the shoot early unless he had a reason?" The bitterness in Dutch's voice was as tart as Mel's lemon curd but lacked its subtle aftertaste.</blockquote>
<b>Synopsis:</b> The Fairy Tale Bakery gang enter a baking contest where Mel has a relationship with every one of the judges, and the DeLaura brothers have airhorns.<br />
<br />
<b>Grade:</b> C<br />
<br />
Dear cozy mystery authors: not every series heroine needs a cat or dog.
Although I confess, I did not totally hate Captain Jack. <br />
<br />
My
favorite parts of this series remain Olivia Puckett, villainess and
professional unhinged Scottsdale businesswoman, and the 7 DeLaura
brothers, who are like Snow White's 7 dwarfs, but with airhorns. <br />
<br />
Didn't
think this particular outing came together as well as previous recipes
(see what I did there? BOO YAH) because of all the dang shenanigans at
the cooking competition, but the romance seems to be bubbling along
nicely, with just the right amount of sugar balancing out the lemon
juice. (Okay I'll stop). <br />
<br />
Also, and I know this is weird but: I love the cover of the book, and how after you read the book, the cover makes <i>much more sense</i>. This is the type of planning that warms the cockles of my devious little heart. <br />
<br />
Next up: a recipe for candied heart-cockles in a crispy ginger crust.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729403035115390033.post-88181052144285825092012-02-14T09:16:00.000-08:002012-06-02T10:24:38.169-07:00Pumpkin creme brulee and the romantic heroine:<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.thewildrosepress.com/sweet-inspiration-p-3789.html" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="231" width="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUvMGHwysZo5ilmN8Pni1wlhz-I6eLs8V-pf5bN_EY8ywCWPZO5v6Zp4lytAoj2kEPIStmOFVpg7oW5PqypeAeSl0ma5bGdxSX_eiH602CQSB2yBQvGUBTZ8uE3Zn5Y1dJl6Ffx7G_yaVX/s320/faf49ee5e7469da1497c4171fb255957.image.150x231.jpg" /></a></div>
via author Penny Watson's blog:
<blockquote>Lucy was somewhat mortified that her hands shook each time she waited on him. When she leaned over the table to serve him her pumpkin crème brulée, his delicious scent hit her like a steam engine...smoky rum and dark spices. Rough callused hands gripped the shaking dish, and saved her the embarrassment of dropping the dessert in his lap. Horrified by her clumsiness, and totally unnerved by her reaction to him, she fled. But not before she noticed him peeking down her blouse. The look of hunger in his eyes had nothing to do with her crème brulée. <br><br>
--Penny Watson, <A href="http://www.thewildrosepress.com/sweet-inspiration-p-3789.html">Sweet Inspiration</a></blockquote>
Very very tempting... (also, blog post contains the <A href="http://pennywatsonbooks.com/recipes.htm">recipe for pumpkin creme brulee</a> and now I am stuck at work thinking yummy thoughts and having to be content with a Clif Bar wah)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729403035115390033.post-39185010819517264442012-01-22T17:02:00.000-08:002012-06-02T10:24:55.931-07:00Your moment of culinary zen:From Elizabeth Bear's "Lucifugous":<br /><br /><blockquote>Mrs. Smith was already seated on the divan, applying a silver fork to the pastry on her canary-yellow Meissen cake plate. She had acknowledged Sebastien earlier. Now, he touched the teacup to his lips before he set it, and its saucer, on the side table. ‘Mrs. Smith,’ he said. ‘You seem very calm.’<br /><br />Her eyebrows rose over the frame of her spectacles. ‘I’m screaming inside,’ she said, and laid the fork down beside her plate. ‘But that’s no reason not to eat.’</blockquote><br /><br />A classic locked-room mystery set aboard a dirigible, with vampires and steampunk, that moment with the canary-yellow Meissen cake plate is still my favorite part of the story. "Lucifugous" appears in the collection <i>New Amsterdam</i>.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729403035115390033.post-88799209521986416852012-01-06T16:50:00.000-08:002012-01-06T17:13:25.524-08:00Review: "Sharpshooter" (2002)<blockquote>It always interested Sunny to see how a person reacted to a glass of wine or a new food. It was a one-second preview of how they would act when faced with the unpredictable, a snapshot of how they approached experience. Some people were hardly aware they had a glass in their hand, and the wine in it would be gone before they realized they were drinking. Charlie wasn't a connoisseur and didn't pretend to be one, but he was clearly interested enough to want to stop and taste what he was drinking. Meanwhile, Monty was explaining why the rocky soil in St.-Emilion, France, was superior to the rocky soil anywhere else in the world, and why this particular wine displayed its qualities better than most.</blockquote><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisBACavMMWgKksrLkoOBAYPEwPnlJYZC43msjSR-vtg5DREAiifdjoBHRwjFosEKHg1PrnrHU-reOvGGvZJSX2URih_AQVNL5x03lvU90L3h5y4Yevytjg4OUtC9AbcURcjyPrHqo8YKQF/s1600/600730-L.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 227px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisBACavMMWgKksrLkoOBAYPEwPnlJYZC43msjSR-vtg5DREAiifdjoBHRwjFosEKHg1PrnrHU-reOvGGvZJSX2URih_AQVNL5x03lvU90L3h5y4Yevytjg4OUtC9AbcURcjyPrHqo8YKQF/s320/600730-L.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694686346180300722" /></a><br /><b>Synopsis:</b> Wine weenies in the Napa Valley band together to drink wine, get accused of murder, drink wine, fight about insect invasions, drink wine and then accuse each other of the murder in question. Leftover wine winds up in everyone's coffee. <br /><br /><b>Grade:</b> C+<br /><br />You guys, I really, really wanted to give this one an A. <br /><br />I first ran across this series by reading the sequel to <i>Sharpshooter</i>, <a href="http://oddmonster.blogspot.com/2011/11/review-death-by-glass-2003.html">Death by the Glass</a>, and I'm very glad I did, because it's a much better book. Call it debut jitters or working the kinks out, but there are three major things wrong with <i>Sharpshooter</i>:<br /><br />1. I loathe the trope of the amateur sleuth who calls up a hard-working police officer and tells him to meet her for coffee in 10 minutes, and he drops everything and goes. Seriously? That's a realistic picture of law enforcement. Add that to the evidence-tampering our amateur sleuth gets up to and she should have found her ass in jail, not in a booth at Bismarck's.<br /><br />2. This whole idea that said amateur sleuth can run around all la, I just dropped by to see your place and...oh...ACCUSE YOU OF MURDER. OR INFIDELITY. OR CHEATING ON YOUR TAXES. WHATEVER YOU'VE GOT GOING. <br /><br />I mean, I'm sure it's a feasible thing, but I'm also sure that amateur sleuth would get her face slapped right off her head at some point. <br /><br />3. There are plotholes, and then there are the Lincoln Tunnels o' Plot. There is, for example, a subplot about thievery at the restaurant that has hands-down the least believable solution ever. Also, the whole ending to the book. Just... what? What? No. NO! Very nearly OH JOHN RINGO NO. <br /><br />So why didn't this book get an F? Simple. Because Gordon can write. <br /><br />Her descriptions of the Napa Valley and the intricacies of winemaking and the wine business and sustainable agriculture are A-worthy. They're bleeding-off-the-page vivid and fascinating, so by the time you realize you've learned something, you just don't care because the prose is so beautiful. <br /><br />Sunny McCoskey is the owner and chef at Wildside in St. Helena, north of Napa, and when her friend Wade Skord is charged with murdering the unlikeable scion of Beroni Vineyards, McCoskey throws herself into the case. Despite the obvious police interference aspect. Despite the fact that when it becomes clear she's unhinged, Wade asks her to stop. Despite the fact that you know, owning a restaurant takes actual work (Hannah Swensen, line one). <br /><br />Sure things get solved eventually but I have read a ton of mysteries, people, and the underpinnings of who did what? Are as flimsy as well-baked pie crust. The why makes sense, but in no way the who, and the Boss Battle at the end is ludicrous. <br /><br />However, those sentences. <i>Those sentences</i>. So lush and plummy and lickable, and the wealth of detail about the Napa Valley lifestyle and the restaurant life, it is pornworthy, is what, and in this case it lets Gordon basically get away with murder. <br /><br />Recommended for hardcore foodies and oenophiles only.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729403035115390033.post-8667621413923746152012-01-05T09:44:00.000-08:002012-01-05T10:05:38.752-08:00Let's get criminal, criminal / I wanna get criminaaaaaaalYeah I know. Big dork. But check out how that song's gotten stuck in your head now for the rest of the afternoon. Mm-hm. These things happen.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://criminalplots.blogspot.com/2011/12/announcing-criminal-plots-ii-2012.html"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 215px; height: 166px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFAzpEhlrlq-f-B610-yydLtdXz5CgSixVUL7v2u5wOPoYw96zRMZpzZNdRqZTzqiXGQeRGcnOmCmO84rb9mVWI0Uxz465-qInONz-ct-HpnqLGCEFWGFGPnUmyNvuJgnj0h_dnddt8Aao/s320/Handcuff_2012.jpg" /></a></center><br /><br />Super excited to be participating in Criminal Plots II, a reading challenge over at Jen's Book Thoughts. Despite the fact that I read 119 books last year* I rarely sign up for challenges because I read in all kinds of different genres and am easily distracted. But this, this is surely doable even for me. <br /><br />The rules are simple: read six books this year that correspond to:<br /><br />1. Novel with a weapon in the title;<br /><br />2. Book published at least 10 years ago;<br /><br />3. Book written by an author from the state/province/etc. where you live;<br /><br />4. Book written by an author using a pen name;<br /><br />5. Crime novel whose protagonist is the opposite gender of the author;<br /><br />6. A stand-alone novel written by an author who writes at least one series.<br /><br />I can do this! <br /><br />In fact, I've already got the first three picked out:<br /><br />1. Novel with a weapon in the title: <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.amazon.com/Death-Guns-Sticky-Miracle-Mysteries/dp/0440235987/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1325785789&sr=8-1"><img style="float:center; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 143px; height: 237px;" src="http://covers.openlibrary.org/w/id/281436-L.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><br />2. Book published at least 10 years ago:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.amazon.com/Biggie-Fricasseed-Fat-Nancy-Bell/dp/0312300026/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1325785996&sr=1-1"><img style="float:center; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 157px; height: 237px;" src="http://covers.openlibrary.org/b/id/1167772-L.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />(published in 1998, which is apparently more than 10 years ago although HOLY COW, REALLY??)<br /><br />3. A stand-alone novel written by an author who writes at least one series:<br /><br /><a href="http://images.amazon.com/images/P/045123524X.01.LZZZZZZZ.jpg"><img style="float:center; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 155px; height: 250px;" src="http://images.amazon.com/images/P/045123524X.01.LZZZZZZZ.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Although I'm not sure if that last one counts; I love Elaine Viets' Francesca Vierling series, and as far as I can tell, this Josie Marcus entry, while being part of a different series, appears to be her only foodie mystery, so for me, it's a standalone. (Does that make sense? Discuss.)<br /><br />I'll have to give that last one some thought. Culinary mysteries do have a tendency to appear as series, so it's not inconceivable that this is as standalone as I can manage. Either way though, I've been looking forward to this Viets book for quite some time, so I might have to devour it first. Nom nom nom. <br /><br />Anyone else up for joining Jen's challenge?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />*My GoodReads goal was 120. Missed it, by that much ][Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729403035115390033.post-51336485866172292892011-12-03T09:51:00.000-08:002011-12-03T10:48:56.222-08:00Review: "Deathday Party" (1999)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51WXQN09MEL._SL500_AA300_.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51WXQN09MEL._SL500_AA300_.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><blockquote>"Like I said, people who are careless with their gardening can't be trusted. You just never know what they have in their background. That's why we've got to get out of here, Jane, dear. I am not used to this kind of thing, you know."<br /><br />"Well, if it makes you feel any better, neither am I. I mean, it's been years since anyone, excuse me, <i>anything</i> tried to impale me with pruning shears."</blockquote><br /><br /><b>Synopsis:</b> Southern decorating belle Hillary and her fish-out-of-water assistant Jane agree to cater a party for an eccentric Gothic family, but get trapped at the house by a storm. Then bodies start cropping up everywhere except the family cemetery. It's just that kind of party.<br /><br /><b>Grade:</b> A-<br /><br />While this book's technically the second of Carter's Decorating Duo of Deduction series (#1 was <i>Leading an Elegant Death</i> and #3 is <i>Red Wine Goes with Murder</i>) it's all about catering and includes a recipe, so I'm cheerfully including it here.<br /><br />Broke single mother and California transplant Jane Ferguson takes a job with Hillary Scarborough, the Martha Stewart of the South, despite not knowing a glue gun from a frosting bag. Still growing accustomed to Southern eccentricities, Jane still boggles at their latest catering job: a birthday party for America Elizabeth Bean, a dead woman renowned for having killed someone who may or may not already be dead. But when a storm traps Jane and Hillary at the Bean mansion, they find their hostess dead but unable to stay in her coffin. More bodies follow suit, none of them in the family cemetery, however. And why does the local gas station attendant look just like the telephone repairman and an out-of-town preacher called in to do the honors at the party?<br /><br />Cozies by now have a ton of tropes attached to them: the amateur sleuth with the failed love life, usually including a terrible ex-husband and a burgeoning relationship with the local lawman (check, check); a sassy sidekick less skilled at detecting (check); and a small town or family full of secrets (check). Bonus points if one of the sleuthing duo is a terrible driver (yup, check).<br /><br />But there were two things that made this mystery really work for me. One, the banter between Jane and Hillary is phenomenal without straining credulity (a lot like the best of Mary Daheim's Judith McGonigal-Flynn and her cousin Renie) and contains a handful of laugh-out-loud moments. <br /><br />The other was that one of the biggest cozy tropes, that the amateur detective is usually also a harried mother and failed domestic doyenne here is done to perfection. While Hillary's perfection in these areas highlights Jane's flaws Jane never lets it cow her and she stands up to Hillary repeatedly. You get to see how her detection skills more than make up for all the dust bunnies on her rugs. <br /><br />I am deeply suspicious of amateur sleuths who have everything pulled together and still manage to have flawless hair, eyes the color of farting cornflowers and "comfortably rounded" figures. Dude, give me the whip-smart, unbrushed, covered-in-cat-hair detectives any day of the week. <br /><br />I suspect part of the popularity of the Harried Amateur is commentary on the backlash against women who entered the workplace in large numbers during the late 70s and 80s. Hear me out: so many cozies that feature these women were also written by female authors, who en masse, have the effect of saying, look, I may not be the Angel of the Household, but my intelligence more than makes up for that. <br /><br />Which has nothing to do with food. :)<br /><br />One recipe included in the book, Hillary's Brandy Sauce, which sounds awesome. I did wish for the recipe for Hillary's pecan and cranberry quickbread, as well as more of a focus on what she recommends the Beans serve at their deathday party as a type of clue to funeral meats and traditions and whatnot, but I wasn't sorry at all that the omission of those things came at the cost of more plot and a slightly madcap dash around a modern-day House of Usher. Highly recommended.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729403035115390033.post-46564687526527977552011-11-25T10:28:00.000-08:002011-12-03T10:59:57.282-08:00From the table of the Iron Duke, by Meljean Brook:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMd05KS-abtwcr2_uzwEwrfmVWlDsIf2q9gSoW_HJ0WZ3k9ssQWQMJbrX2qHUZtcPpVohOoo4DFo6295viw_w38LU51Lx5zUq4N5H_uwlOUG_3OKtSuQcvHotE6UNVCFYhQzZ5n3BM7Ium/s1600/The%252BIron%252BDuke%252B-%252BMeljean%252BBrook%252B-%252BFINAL%252BCover.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMd05KS-abtwcr2_uzwEwrfmVWlDsIf2q9gSoW_HJ0WZ3k9ssQWQMJbrX2qHUZtcPpVohOoo4DFo6295viw_w38LU51Lx5zUq4N5H_uwlOUG_3OKtSuQcvHotE6UNVCFYhQzZ5n3BM7Ium/s320/The%252BIron%252BDuke%252B-%252BMeljean%252BBrook%252B-%252BFINAL%252BCover.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5679004323444363314" /></a><br /><br />One of the many things I liked about this book was the food, and how it, along with the rest of the world, had been ingeniously thought out. In a book set after privation and war, it makes sense that a fresh orange would be the most indulgent of delicacies. I like to see that type of thinking from an author. It's <i>clever.</i><br /><br />Take, for instance, the first lines of the book: <br /><br /><blockquote>Mina hadn't predicted that sugar would wreck the Marchioness of Hartington's ball; she'd though the dancing would. Their hostess's good humor had weathered them through the discovery that fewer than forty of her guests knew the steps, however, and they'd survived the first quadrilles. But as the room grew warmer, the laughter louder, and the gossiping more vigorous, the refreshment table set the First Annual Victory Ball on a course for disaster.<br /><br />Which meant Mina was enjoying the event far more than she'd expected to.</blockquote><br /><br />On the other hand, I completely agree with <a href="http://thebooksmugglers.com/2010/11/pnr-double-feature-play-of-passion-by-nalini-singh-the-iron-duke-by-meljean-brook.html">The Book Smugglers</a> about the Iron Duke's cover. Gah headless man-titty.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729403035115390033.post-53210466037200227282011-11-12T21:32:00.000-08:002011-11-12T22:14:45.239-08:00Review: "Death by the Glass" (2003)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.chroniclebooks.com/titles/literature/chronicle-crime/death-by-the-glass-2621.html"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 135px; height: 190px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPMb8j2LqdFGr38egXu1TzzEPuDyuMPVNeiAmMFjCNfSVFamoK3lxMrupHoofc5f0LB21AKk23D5weK1YfeZSpZz4B2eOg9Yb_2gIJ5ybKajkzuRRFz7HxOsUbjrKwQeN4az96rLyVRpBW/s320/Death_by_the_Glass_2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674350700322298546" /></a><blockquote>"Morales is going to fucking ruin me," said Osborne, puffing as he settled his briefcase and groped for the seat belt. "He's trying to destroy my restaurant." He waited for a response but didn't get one. "Who eats Moroccan food, anyway? Who wants to eat Moroccan food?"<br /><br />"Moroccans?" said Nick.</blockquote><br /><br /><b>Synopsis:</b> Luminous foodie murder set entirely in the overheated, incestuous world of high-end restaurants, with an interesting accidental sleuth and a panoply of interesting supporting characters. Minor hiccups with plotholes and strings left dangling at the end. <br /><br /><b>Grade:</b> A-<br /><br /><blockquote>High-stakes wine fraud and murder disguised as a heart attack compel Sunny McCoskey to again toss aside her chef's apron and don the role of sleuth. When the list of suspects includes her new lover, the celebrity chef at a posh Napa Valley eatery, the personal risks of her investigation rise dramatically.</blockquote><br /><br />That's the official blurb and it's both accurate and terrible. Here's what really happened. <br /><br />(For all of you who've ever worked in a restaurant, lots of this will sound familiar. Although if that involves murder, yikes. Talk about your dead-end jobs...)<br /><br />Sunny McCoskey operates a small gourmet restaurant with her friend Rivka when they're not gossiping with their effeminate heterosexual winesnob friend, Monty, who in my head was both looking and sounding like fashion designer Michael Kors. Go with it. I watch a lot of Project Runway. <br /><br />Sunny and Rivka hop across the street to do a charity dinner at Vinifera, mainly because of the hunky chef there, Andre. There's some talk about getting back on a relationship horse because Sunny's kind of a wiener. But she's also well-actualized and complicated and an insomniac, so of course Andre leaps at her like a dog on a bone. <br /><br />However, and this was a little weird, right after her date with Andre (not her dinner with him, thanks) Sunny gets consumed by finding the killer of Vinifera's owner. Who no one thinks got murdered. It's safe to say that Rivka's right on with her assessment of Sunny's honking big intimacy issues. <br /><br />It's a great book. Sunny and Rivka are fantastic and funny friends and there's food everywhere in this book, mostly being prepared rather than eaten, but also wrapped delicately into such descriptions as "Near the front, parked under a tree, was a Mercedes sedan the color of vanilla ice cream. A black 911, too new to have license plates, sat nearby showing a tease of cherry-red disk brakes through the silver wheel covers."<br /><br />There are gorgeous descriptions of the Napa Valley throughout, although you do have to roll with the fact that Napa's the kind of place where you can belly up to the bar and talk to the bartender about what kind of red wine to take on a booty call...while eating deep-fried olives stuffed with anchovies. Which I think we all agree are totally a bar-food. <br /><br />Napa's a very upscale boondocks, or as Rivka and Sunny put it, "Les Boondocks". <br /><br />There are a couple plotholes, like a scene with a villain menacing early on that's oh, you know, never mentioned again, and we never do find out if Sunny gets her act together with Andre, even by the end of the book. And there are references to things in a previous book but hello, it's a series, so I should just calm down and get over it. <br /><br />Or just read the rest of the other books.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729403035115390033.post-17881522026324842202011-10-29T08:46:00.000-07:002011-12-03T11:00:13.116-08:00In the kitchen with five (hardboiled) detectives<b>Southern California surf PI Boone Daniels:</b><br /><br /><blockquote>“Everything,” Boone says, “tastes better on a tortilla.” This is an article of faith with Boone. He’s lived his life with it and believes it to be true. You take anything—fish, chicken, beef, cheese, eggs, even peanut butter and jelly—and fold them in the motherly embrace of a warm flour tortilla and all those foods respond to the love by upping their game. Everything does taste better on a tortilla.<br /><br />--Don Winslow, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Patrol-Vintage-Crime-Black-Lizard/dp/0307278913/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1319408939&sr=1-1">The Dawn Patrol</a><br /><br /></blockquote><br /><br /><b>Inspector John Rebus:</b><br /><br /><blockquote>Nothing in the world tasted as good for breakfast as stolen rolls with some butter and jam and a mug of milky coffee. Nothing tasted better than a venial sin.<br /><br />--Ian Rankin, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Knots-Crosses-Inspector-Rebus-Novels/dp/0312536925/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1319407700&sr=8-1">Knots and Crosses</a></blockquote><br /><br /><b>Detective Inspector Jack Frost</b>:<br /><br /><blockquote>Two dubious-looking rashers of bacon sweated and cowered in the corner of the fridge. He took them out, sniffed them, and decided to chance it.<br /><br />The rashers were laid into the frying pan with a generous chunk of recycled dripping, then two eggs were cracked and dropped in, and everything started sizzling and spitting and filling the kitchen with greasy smoke. He turned his attention to making the tea. No tea bags left. Damn and flaming blast!<br /><br />He ferreted around in the rubbish bin and found a swollen, soggy used bag looking like a drowned mouse. Beggars can't be choosers, he thought as he dumped it in his cup and drowned it again in hot water. Then he buttered some bread, tipped the contents of the frying pan onto a plate, fished a knife and fork out of the washing-up bowl, and settled down to eat.<br /><br />--RD Wingfield, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Touch-Frost-R-D-Wingfield/dp/0553571699/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1319409503&sr=1-1">A Touch of Frost</a></blockquote><br /><br /><b>LAPD Homicide Detective Harry Bosch:</b><br /><br /><blockquote>Bosch gave her Pounds's serial number and then the names Gordon Mittel, Arno Conklin, Claude Eno and Jake McKittrick. He said he needed the home addresses on their licenses. <br /><br />He was put on hold again. During the time he waited he held the phone to his ear with his shoulder and fried an egg over easy in a pan on the stove. He made a sandwich out of it with two slices of white toast and cold salsa from a jar he kept in the refrigerator. He ate the dripping sandwich while leaning over the sink. He had just wiped his mouth and poured himself a second cup of coffee when the clerk finally pciked back up.<br /><br />--Michael Connelly, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Last-Coyote-Harry-Bosch/dp/0446619078/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1319408387&sr=8-1">The Last Coyote</a></blockquote><br /><br /><b>Psychologist and very serious detective Alex Delaware:</b><br /><br /><blockquote>We went into the house. [Milo] fixed himself a bowl of Cheerios and milk, stood at the counter and spooned the cereal down nonstop before pausing to catch his breath. "Hand me a napkin."<br /><br />--Jonathan Kellerman, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Silent-Partner-Delaware-Jonathan-Kellerman/dp/0345460685/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1319409347&sr=8-1">Silent Partner</a></blockquote><br /><br /><b>Conclusion:</b> I would never eat at Inspector Frost's house. I might not even touch anything or sit down.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729403035115390033.post-65770207939443887672011-10-23T07:43:00.000-07:002011-10-23T07:48:50.818-07:00Cooking with Inspector Frost:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img2.imagesbn.com/images/50760000/50768314.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 170px; height: 280px;" src="http://img2.imagesbn.com/images/50760000/50768314.JPG" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><blockquote>Two dubious-looking rashers of bacon sweated and cowered in the corner of the fridge. He took them out, sniffed them, and decided to chance it.<br><br>The rashers were laid into the frying pan with a generous chunk of recycled dripping, then two eggs were cracked and dropped in, and everything started sizzling and spitting and filling the kitchen with greasy smoke. He turned his attention to making the tea. No tea bags left. Damn and flaming blast!<br><br>He ferreted around in the rubbish bin and found a swollen, soggy used bag looking like a drowned mouse. Beggars can't be choosers, he thought as he dumped it in his cup and drowned it again in hot water. Then he buttered some bread, tipped the contents of the frying pan onto a plate, fished a knife and fork out of the washing-up bowl, and settled down to eat.<br><br></blockquote>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729403035115390033.post-43825864790060322432011-10-15T18:37:00.001-07:002011-12-03T10:59:42.679-08:00Imaginary foods made real: Maggie Stiefvater creates November cakesAnd they sound freakishly delish:<br /><br /><blockquote><i>Of course, as with all food descriptions in my novels, I quickly warmed to my mission and proceeded to fill the pages of the book with more things about "the moist crumb, the nectar that seeps from the base of it, the icing that soaks into the cake before you can lick it off." Oh, yes, now we were getting somewhere. My legacy as a fake food writer was beginning to look more promising.</i><br /><br />--via <a href="http://m-stiefvater.livejournal.com/217151.html">her blog</a></blockquote><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMuj5hW65NNp6oEiF8kBmcLcl9j8BzPbGO05tL2Q3h_oHnhc1gk2ZBvvyGiAt4lLmlFOU0mlYJQ4SYmiizBqTM_OhWDVmjPbIc_rsCQhE9HUMCD_3rHbw6DkhbAm4VNL8wiS4YYV1V0Kg1/s1600/novembercakes.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMuj5hW65NNp6oEiF8kBmcLcl9j8BzPbGO05tL2Q3h_oHnhc1gk2ZBvvyGiAt4lLmlFOU0mlYJQ4SYmiizBqTM_OhWDVmjPbIc_rsCQhE9HUMCD_3rHbw6DkhbAm4VNL8wiS4YYV1V0Kg1/s320/novembercakes.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663898626626272802" /></a><br /><br />"Nothing can be fictional if there's a recipe." I kind of want that on a tshirt.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729403035115390033.post-69753535665059532352011-09-28T06:42:00.000-07:002011-09-28T06:43:00.227-07:00Review: "Cookie Dough or Die" (2011)<blockquote>"I'm surprised you're not fat," Olivia teased her brother.<br><br>
"I'm surprised you're not in jail," Jason said, just before forcing another half of a sandwich into his mouth.</blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTUePSgr_F-Pc1BeoW7xVJPbycHOZnayB_RgZDyLXVUjEE_HHM_8JIXobJ_bInWEE-lugCKfF9EIg_U6gLvF6xjFBtTg2ce0xTlma1uZSjH1ID1o07Z23cUt2xzKVtHpnbElD3S0yUqNNl/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="239" width="148" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTUePSgr_F-Pc1BeoW7xVJPbycHOZnayB_RgZDyLXVUjEE_HHM_8JIXobJ_bInWEE-lugCKfF9EIg_U6gLvF6xjFBtTg2ce0xTlma1uZSjH1ID1o07Z23cUt2xzKVtHpnbElD3S0yUqNNl/s320/images.jpg" /></a></div>
<b>Synopsis:</b> Niche cookie-cutter boutique becomes ground zero for an all-family squabble over inheritance, past sins and murder -- yes, <i>murder</i>. Bonus points for the canine sidekick, no matter what the health department would say.<br><br>
<b>Grade:</b> B+<br><br>
I confess, I usually eschew niche cozies that don't involve food. Call me crazy, call me focused, but there are so many culinary mysteries out there to read that I need some sort of focus in order to not be buried under an avalanche of books that need reading. Not that they don't all need reading.<br><br>
I picked this book up, though, based on the title and cover. Admit it: <i>Cookie Dough or Die</i> is a fantastic title. And then once I started reading, I was hooked. And there's a dog in it. <br><br>
Olivia Greyson owns The Gingerbread House, a cookie cutter boutique somewhere in or near Maryland, with her best friend Maddie and her rescue dog, Spunky. When her mentor Clarisse is found dead, Olivia's thrown for a loop, and even more so when it turns out to be murder. When it turns out Clarisse left Olivia a hoard of antique cookie-cutters, she basically does a loop-de-loop. But the murderer really wants the secrets kept, their identity never found and oh yeah, all the cookie cutters back. <br><br>
Very smooth and enjoyable writing. Great quirky characters -- Maddie, the best friend is flighty and sparkly, Olivia's interesting, her love interest, the sheriff, is not obnoxious in the least, and Spunky basically steals the show. <br><br>
Lowell does a ton of things right in this book: even though Olivia decides to solve the mystery, she never forgets that she has a business to run and a dog to walk, and she prioritizes those well. She has a great support network in Maddie and her mom, but the flow of the story remains well-anchored to the idea that the mystery-solving protagonist is first and foremost a small business owner. <br><br>
Loved the rest of the townspeople, especially the very terrible newspaper editor, loved the crazy family. It was a little hard to believe the sheriff went along with Olivia's plans for confronting the murderer, but I guess love makes people do strange things. <br><br>
Will definitely be continuing on with the series. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729403035115390033.post-83424882764566289232011-09-05T10:19:00.000-07:002011-09-28T06:21:21.358-07:00oh honey honey I'm telling you -- a woman's work is never done<blockquote>Andrew’s eyes followed a single drop of water rolling toward her cleavage.<br><br>
She said, “You know how I got like this?”<br><br>
“What do you mean?”<br><br>
She caressed his forearm with electric blue fingernails. He trembled. “Don’t be so polite. You know what I mean. How I lost weight. How I got hot. You remember those nicknames they called me, right? Lard Ass and Rosie O and The Beached Whale –”<br><br>
“They shouldn’t have –”<br><br>
“Done that. I know, but I don’t care. It’s all in the past cause of Mom.</blockquote>
Fucked up, feminine and awesome: <a href="http://www.shotgunhoney.net/2011/09/skinny-latte-by-chris-rhatigan.html">Skinny Latte</a>, a short story by Chris Rhatigan, over at <i>Shotgun Honey</i>.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729403035115390033.post-62915010813660783162011-08-09T21:22:00.000-07:002011-08-09T21:23:54.238-07:00There's always some small scrap left in the least likely place<blockquote>Nothing in the world tasted as good for breakfast as stolen rolls with some butter and jam and a mug of milky coffee. Nothing tasted better than a venial sin.<br><br>--Ian Rankin, <i>Knots and Crosses</i></blockquote>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1729403035115390033.post-38943945120852395522011-07-20T12:13:00.000-07:002011-07-20T12:39:03.652-07:00Review: "The Teaberry Strangler" (2010)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3bYJ7s-u2TloTg7BdkPpD-hKHJJhnb1KZVL5yqyOPtUEj6GeVJGtnkqHPJHhtF6Q3yKZ85lEjdbIhPNt0YQTCtYt3nXopRwEle3YGfmZ22NhPbvbboceCkWpSQ4jCANAo0kb0QSrA-srE/s1600/TeaberryStrangler.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 201px; height: 314px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3bYJ7s-u2TloTg7BdkPpD-hKHJJhnb1KZVL5yqyOPtUEj6GeVJGtnkqHPJHhtF6Q3yKZ85lEjdbIhPNt0YQTCtYt3nXopRwEle3YGfmZ22NhPbvbboceCkWpSQ4jCANAo0kb0QSrA-srE/s320/TeaberryStrangler.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631520087980135602" /></a><br /><blockquote>"Do you know anything about the language of roses?"<br><br>"What do you mean?" asked Theodosia.<br><br>"During the Victorian era," said Drayton, "the use of rose symbolism was extremely popular. It became a subtle form of communication."<br><br>"Like text messaging today," said Theodosia.<br><br>"Not exactly," said Drayton.</blockquote><br /><br /><b>Synopsis:</b> The indefatigable Theodosia Browning continues to run her merry crew of teashop irregulars and solve murders all over Charleston's historic shopping district. This time it's Daria, owner of an antique map store, who turns up dead and Theodosia's unlucky enough to witness the crime. So, between running her teashop, hanging out with her dog and trying to close on her new cottage, Theodosia solves the crime. <br /><br /><b>Grade:</b> C+<br /><br />Okay people, listen up: I am willing to put up good money for one of the next books in this series to feature Delaine Dash (owner of the Cotton Duck!) as the corpse. Good money. I just can't remember a character who got under my skin like she does. It's amazing. I just...she... flames...on the side of my face...burning--heaving--<br /><br />Oh this is such a good series, people. It just is. I would have tea at that teashop in an instant, no matter if they were brewing Darjeeling in a dead man's open skull when I got there. The books are just that fun. <br /><br />It is all about the sense of place, I think, that Childs gives to this series that makes me love it so much. I was trying, the other day, to think of mystery series where I can't think of the series without immediately thinking of the city. Like for me, Sharon McCone will always be San Francisco. And V.I. Warshawski will always be Chicago; Tess Monaghan is Baltimore, the Liquor boys are New Orleans, Archy McNally is Palm Beach and NYC is sort of in a three-way toss-up between the 87th precinct, Claire Cosi and Edward X. Delaney. In exactly the same way, Theodosia Browning is Charleston. <br /><br />It's a great, iconic series. <br /><br />But this is not a great, iconic book. It's a good book. It's a solid entry in the series and with a lot of the plot strands, I felt like Childs has a beautiful long sheet of butcher paper tacked up along one wall of her house with all these interwoven strands and Teaberry Strangler is one section, and the next book is another, and there are certain dots that have to advance in certain ways. <br /><br />For instance, the reintroduction of Jorie Davis, who, while an unfortunate romantic choice (I keep wanting Drayton to pour hot tea in his lap) also keeps things interesting much more than the milquetoast restauranteur Theodosia took up with on the rebound. And the way Theodosia kept wistfully saying "Oh Haley, I do so hope I won't LOSE YOU SOMEDAY WHEN A BIG CATERING OPPORTUNITY COMES ALONG." <br /><br />Seriously, she said it like four times. Hi. Thanks. I think we now safely know what you've got planned for Haley. Gotcha. Right there with ya. Keep going with the story. <br /><br />And I liked the story. I liked the cast of weirdos surrounding the victim, and I liked how they were more than they seemed, some of them. I loved how Theodosia gets her big girl heels on whenever someone intends to hurt her dog, because if anyone ever comes after my dogs, you will be able to buy jars of that person as a paste in supermarkets everywhere, I'll tell you that right now. <br /><br />But two things went wrong here: <br /><br />1. Okay. No less than five different people were all OH THEODOSIA PLEASE SOLVE THIS MYSTERY YOU ARE SO AWESOME. And then Theodosia blushed and simpered. That is Mary Sue territory. I do not like that. I am not saying Theodosia was a Mary Sue this time out, I'm just saying we can all see that land from here and it's not a good place.<br /><br />2. The ending. OY the ending. Was not supported by the plot in the least. Noooooo. I went back and looked for clues I'd missed, people, because I spell anal-retentive with a hyphen. It did not make the least sense at all, and took like eight pages from boss fight to glass-clinking resolution and then fin. Like, if you stand up from a fistfight, wipe your hands on a linen napkin then serve punch for guests, I'm sorry, but you're the Cylon. It's you.<br /><br />Bah. <br /><br />And humbug. <br /><br />Which in no way means I'm not going to read the next entry in the series, it just means that if you have a really strong, iconic series -- and I do think it's fair to say this series is iconic at this point -- you can get away with a fair amount of missteps. Just not often.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0