Customer Reviews

Dough: A Memoir

5 star:		(23)
4 star:		(23)
3 star:		(10)
2 star:		(3)
1 star:		(2)

 

 

This is a beautifully written book. You will read about Mort Zachter's life in a Jewish family in New York with a sense of suspense: are all the secrets out? Are they all revealed? From the perspective of a child growing austere life in Zachter's family things seem pretty normal. For the aduld Zachter,.the post mortem examination of the characters and the details must be emotionally challenging.How does one live with the "what ifs" ?(like money for a private college,or mortgage?) how does one deal with conflicting ambivalent feelings towards his beloved/selfish hoarder uncle ? an uncle whose very sickness made Zacher wealthy! How do you understand all other family members who colluded in keeping the secret and living the lie?
The writing style is very clear and the narrative pleasing and easy to follow.God works in mysterious ways: Would Mort ever become a writer if it wasn't for Uncle Harry? ( I think he probably would still be practicing tax law in New York...)

I highly recommend this book!

First let me say that this book is a quick and enjoyable read. For me it hits very close to home--not for the surprise inheritance of millions (one can only wish) but rather for the culture, attitudes, and locale depicted so colorfully, which almost mirror my family's own immigrant experience.

The author's uncles ran a bakery on Manhattan's Lower East Side, well before gentrification set in and brought "the buzz" to what was once the capital of tenement life in the US.

Other reviewers have commented on the author's tactic of jumping around through time periods, back and forth, with each chapter. I actually found that quite engaging. While laying out the story thread and character development in the early chapters, Zachter tells stories that ring in my memory as clear as a bell. My father, who was born and raised on the Lower East Side into a very poor immigrant family, always told the story of the big snowstorm of 1947 that paralyzed New York City. He recalled carrying my older brother, then age 3, almost four miles on his shoulders from the subway stop to his new G.I. Bill home in the "suburbs" of Queens because the buses weren't running.

The way Zachter tells the story of that snowstorm and that day in the life of his family really brings it to life for me, having heard my father's own experiences in that storm for years. Thanks for that, Mort!

Also, my father used to tell us that his family was so poor, his mother used to give him and my uncle a few nickels and pennies for the roundtrip subway ride to the bread factory, where they'd use the rest of the coins to buy not day-old bread but rather DAYS-old bread for their family of 8. The Zachter bakery, which sold day-old bread delivered from larger, commercial bakeries, was too "upper crusty" for my father's family. Living on Orchard Street, between Stanton and Rivington, my father and uncle could have just walked less than a mile each way to pick up day-old bread--if the family could have afforded it.

Stories like these, which hit so close to home, drew me into this book. I'm not sure that people from other backgrounds would appreciate the characters' quirkiness as much as I did. Then again, maybe they'd like it even more!

Mort Zachter's story starts with bread and ends with money, as per his wife's initial book title suggestion, and indeed, the title word refers to both intertwined objects of his past. His two uncles ran the Ninth Street Bakery, where they sold bread, cakes, and cookies that were made elsewhere. His portrait of their workaholic ways is juxtaposed with the discovery that they were worth millions, literally.

When Zachter learns this, one uncle has passed away and one is suffering from dementia. He has put himself through law school, borrowed money to adopt his children, and is uncertain what to make of this abundance of wealth. In alternating chapters, Zachter explores the rich life of his ancestors, running their bakery through all manner of mayhem and chaos that is life in New York City.

Ultimately, it's rather a sad portrait he paints, of two extremely wealthy men who had little fun or even socializing in their lives. But there is something missing to Dough, despite Zachter's heartfelt explorations. There are too many questions raised and left unanswered. Zachter doesn't seem to truly confront his parents, who are lucid and knew full well about the riches his uncles had acquired. We never truly learn where all that money came from.

Zachter's historical musings and family recollections are the highlights of this book. Yes, there is the money, but while we can only imagine it has left him with free time and no worries in the financial realm, the image of fruitcake boxes full of useless bills crumbling is the one that lingers. His lack of resolution about the money - unable to confront his uncles, and perhaps unwilling to confront his parents - makes the book end on a bit of a flat note. Regardless, it's worth reading, especially if you live in, have lived in, or simply love New York.

This is one of the best books I've read in some time. The author is truly gifted. He writes like a novelist as he eloquently delves into the complicated issues of money, family, inheritance, and acceptance.

I especially like how he skillfully alternated chapters. He deftly mingles the long ago past with the more recent past and creates a compelling mystery. He writes as a clear-eyed adult grappling with the difficult issues of aging parents and relatives, supporting his family, and determining the best career path. He also also writes about the nostalgic memories from his childhood.

It all comes together and creates a book that is poignant, heartbreaking, and profound. I will be recommending this book to my friends.

The story of a family that is used by two uncles that seem to be able to work their relatives for excellent wages, absolutely nothing. The year's progress and the nephew works his way through college without financial help from any of the family. Many years later he finds the facts of his two uncles and their secret hidden throughout the years. He is shocked. The story continues going back and forth from childhood to an adult. as his life continues the total hatred begins to grow into an understanding of a immigrant families slow crawl into becoming Americans.
The lower East side of New York is emphasized well. The colorful people of the community shine with their work ethic and honesty. Included are those with some criminal intent in their makup and how they all meld together.
The story is warm with closeness of neighbors and family. What can be asked by people may at times seem incredible but more so are the facts that we usually agree to follow these requests. Sometimes for a lifetime. A well written memoir that I recommend.

Despite author Mort Zachter's frustrations at his own family, who are the subject of this book, Dough is a heartwarming tale of discovery and understanding.

Uncles Harry and Joe run a bakery in New York's Lower East Side. They don't actually bake -- they sell day-old bread. Open 7 days a week, including blizzards, Joe and Harry close the shop only for the high holy days. To most, including Zachter, they appear to be extremely poor, hardworking men struggling to make ends meet. Zachter's parents certainly are: they live in a one bedroom apartment where a young Mort is forced to sleep in the kitchen, his head cooled on hot summer days only by the fridge he uses as a headboard.

The truth about Harry and Joe is that their penny-pinching ways have resulted in them being multi-millionaires, a fact Zachter learns only after Uncle Harry (Joe being long dead) moves in with Zachter's parents, who care for him as Alzheimer's takes hold of the beloved joke-telling uncle. A chance phone call and a case of mistaken identity results in Zachter learning about Harry's account of $1 million from a broker. He quickly discovers that there is at least $5 million more.

Zachter takes us on his journey of discovery. We are taken back to the glory days of the bakery, where even his mother, Helen, works for break, cakes and cookies as payment. Zachter struggles with the truth of his uncles' wealth, resenting the fact that while his own family struggled to survive and he, as an adult, struggled financially to support his own family, his uncles never helped to relieve their family of their financial burdens.

Dough is wonderfully written, easy to read and quite absorbing. We never do learn how Harry and Joe really did make their millions, and on occasion the question does tug on the reader's mind. But that's the point: Zachter doesn't know either, and as many questions linger for him as they do for us.

This book grabs you from the beginning. And you will want to read the rest of it to put the pieces together. It is told with humor and sensitivity. You sense that Mort may not have understood or accepted the motives of his family at first but he does his best to show you how he has come to terms with them and remembers them fondly and has compassion for their oddities. Highly recommended.

From the first sentence to the last, I was engrossed in this book. I have a fondness for personal stories, especially stories about Joe and Jane Commonperson, which is what this book is about - some average guys who work hard their whole lives at what seems to be a business that doesn't make a whole lot of money, but over their 60 years or so career, they save millions of dollars.

Their story is told from the perspective of their grand-nephew, Mort Zachter (the author), who is now an adult and inherited most (all?) of their money when they died.

Bouncing back and forth between the real time of today in the last few years of his uncle's life, as he succumbed to Alzheimer's, and into the past, Zachter tells the story of an immigrant family that comes to New York City and sets up a bread selling store in the early 1900s. The historical stories are told with love and affection, but never sentimentally - Zachter is willing to point out foibles, tensions, arguments, and even a possible very active sex life for one of his life-long bachelor uncles. On this odyssey through history, trying to piece his uncles' (and thus his family's) history, he touches on the experience of Jewish immigrants, Judaism and religion (and lack thereof), forgiveness, redemption, family squabbles and dysfunction as well as family banding together and supporting one another, disappointment, joy, and so much more.

Throughout the book, Zachter makes mention that what he always really wanted to be was a writer, but his family pushed him to go into business and accounting, which he dutifully did. I'm glad he finally broke down (or, I suppose, inherited up) and decided to be a writer. He is definitely made to be a writer. His use of words and flow of story is beautiful to behold and very easy to read. In the hands of a lesser writer, the back and forth in time would be confusing and obnoxious, but he makes it work.

This book was, for me, an absolute delight to read - many memories of places in my beloved New York City that are not there any more, a compelling literate and beautiful writing style, and an honest historical look at some interesting real people, warts and greatness all. It's so good, I read it in two days - I hated putting it down.

I can't recommend this one enough. I look forward to more books from him.

Mort Zachter does an admirable job of conveying what seems to have been an insular, claustrophobic experience as the only child of a family whose day-to-day lives revolve around the bakery owned by his mother's two brothers, a product of bygone times known as "the day-old bread store," due to the fact that nothing is actually baked on the premises and indeed arrives the next day or later (read Betty Smith's A Tree Grows in Brooklyn for more on this). Mr. Zachter's life until he leaves home ping-pongs from his parents' dismal Brooklyn apartment to his uncles' almost-as-dismal shared East Village digs: a two-bedroom (presumably) Michelama apartment and "the Store" (which I think is still there, BTW).
Following the death of one uncle and shortly before the death of the other (who by this time is suffering from full-blown dementia and is being cared for by his sister and brother-in-law in their home), Mr. Zachter learns that his surviving uncle possess an estate in excess of several million dollars, due no doubt to his almost pathological stinginess and that of his late sibling. Mr. Zachter handles this remarkable turn of events, both in actuality and in narrative, with considerable skill, especially given that he's a rookie in both areas.
Dough is a real page turner, especially if, like myself, you're Jewish. Despite being pretty much the same age as the author, we clearly inhabited radically different worlds, mine being suburban and comfortable and his coming across like...well, like something out of literature. It doesn't seem to have been a particularly happy life; one has the impression that he doesn't even have friends or other children with whom he played. It's because of this that I nicked a star--sometimes the story is just downright depressing in its sadness. (It's also sad for those of us who live in Manhattan to have the elimination of honest-to-God neighborhoods like the East Village through yuppification brought home.)
However, it's often very funny and is always vividly told through its skillful use of oscillating between past and present. This reader was very much drawn into Mr. Zachter's universe and while I personally am happy never to have made the acquaintance of his family in the flesh (they sound pretty awful), they certainly have proved to be grist for future pungent and fruity anecdotes. Mr. Zachter is a competent, engaging author and the fact that his family's windfall has enabled him to pursue his dream of writing may just have been the most valuable gift they could have given him. The best of luck to him and "zai gesundt."

What a thoroughly enjoyable and leisurely stroll through the life and recollections of CPA turned lawyer turned writer Mort Zachter. Mazltov he gave it up with the law thing, like we need more lawyers already? We need more people with soul and skill and a voice like this to keep alive the stories, the traditions, and yeah, the faith. I am not particularly devout, but this book touched maybe an ancestral part of me that is not usually so easily accessed. Except by, maybe, Mickey Katz?

Here are the recollections of Mr. Z as he describes growing up in New York, but it's all about the Store- the small bakery in the Lower East Side. But the life of the store is the men whose lives it was- his uncles Joe & Harry.

This is a look at a way of life that is all but disappeared. It's about the legacy of Joe and Harry- both financial and emotional, as Morton takes on the responsibility of settling the affairs of the uncles, discovering the vast wealth they had managed to accumulate, and the nearly impenetrable mysteries of two men it seems no one really knew. The book swings between those two windows of his life as he flows from a memory to a moment and then back again.

It is difficult to talk about a book such as this without feeling a personal involvement, and trying to do justice to the material. Some memoirs have left me totally untouched, a very few drew me in as if I was an old friend or a relative. I felt this way with "Dough", I am the same age as Mort and I might be hearing the story of a far-flung second cousin from when before Zeyde and Bubbe came to America. You never know!

Growing up in a suburb I never had the "colorful" experiences of Mort's childhood, if you want to look at it like that- but now I was able to vicariously enjoy a childhood I couldn't have even imagined. It was easy to feel and taste and smell those times, he has a way of writing that goes right from the eyes to the heart. He does not put anything there but what it was, in a way that allows the reader move into those moments and decide for himself.

I had to take a few pages to catch the rhythm of "Dough", both in the style of alternating chapters by alternating the present and the past. Once I did, I was enmeshed. It also took me a few more pages to turn on a little dialect in my head, and suddenly I enjoyed it more tenfold. There is something about hearing that New York/Yiddishe accent that, like salt in chicken soup, changes everything. As the secret clues of the hidden lives of the Uncles are uncovered, the mystery almost deepens. We are left not with many answers, but the feeling that sometimes knowing everything- like having everything- is nothing.

There is so much more I would like to tell you about the book, the insights, the way he captures poignant moments like an artist- but then, it would turn into another book. Just go buy this "Dough". (I have to add, it fits comfortably in the hand and is nice to look at.)

And by the way, the Store is still alive and well on Ninth Street, run by a pleasant Ukrainian couple, and we are invited in as friends. I feel like one. But as a friend I have one small comment, about the cover:

Mortchele, you couldn't have used a nice challah, maybe?