134 of 142 people found the following review helpful
on February 27, 2009
I have only made it up through the coconut macaroons, and I have already cried.
I preordered this book, being a longtime Orangette reader with unshaken trust in Molly's palate. The combination of ingredients in her Buchons Au Thons alone changed the way I consider food, flavor, and a can of tuna.
More than that, Molly writes about food the way I feel about food -- simple meals are intertwined with memories and people and how we become who and what we are. Even if I someday manage a perfect souffle, I will still crave my mom's egg salad sandwiches, white bread only, on Sundays in July.
I tend to fall into Nigella Lawson books -- she makes cooking look SO sexy and fun -- but the domestic goddess is missing an accessibility Molly manages easily. Her voice and the sometimes heart-rendingly personal stories she tells with each recipe really do bring you to her kitchen table. And then they give you a cookie.
From its simple, delightful design to the stories to the recipes that come with USEFUL instructions (seriously, so many recipes fail at this), this is already one of my favorite cookbooks. This, to me, is what food is about.
If I have one complaint, it's that the simple design doesn't allow for glossy 8x10 photos of each recipe's results. Thank god she's still got Orangette for that!
70 of 75 people found the following review helpful
on March 1, 2009
Format: HardcoverVerified Purchase
I had to save a little for leftovers. Have you ever had a dinner so good you had to save a little bit at the end of the meal just so you could have a little left to savor the next day? Well, this was Molly's book. I stayed up until 1 a.m. reading this book and when I was finally to the last chapter I just couldn't take that it was going to be over. This morning I got up and made coffee and the Scones from the recipe in A Homemade Life, and sat down to savor the last chapter and the scones. It was perfect both the book and the scones. The scones may very well be the best I have ever made and that says a lot considering I have written about a dozen blog posts related to finding the perfect scone. Really, I'm so glad for Orangette as I know the story does not have to end. I was only a mild follower of the blog before this book, now I want to go back and read every post. All the recipes look amazing as well.
50 of 54 people found the following review helpful
on March 2, 2009
Format: HardcoverVerified Purchase
I expected this book to be about food, since the aurhor's blog, Orangette, is my favorite among several I read, and a number of the recipes I have tried, from granola to boiled kale (neither are included in this book, but are available on the Orangette site), now make regular appearances on our table.
As delicious as the recipes are, however, this is not primarily a cookbook. The recipes are a bonus feature in as lovely a book of essays as I remember reading in--well, I think--ever. I don't much like essays, usually, but then I didn't think I'd like boiled kale either, and we're having that once a week now. If you skip the essays and only make the recipes, you'll miss the best of the feast.
Ms. Wizenberg's stories of finding her place have obviously been carefully crafted, with deft imagery, but they are also page-turners. You can't wait to see how each little episode ends, even though you know it ends with a recipe and the subject matter is familiar to us all.
She dusts the ordinary, whether she's writing about dough or death, with a shimmer of something that makes it special.
23 of 23 people found the following review helpful
on June 22, 2009
Format: HardcoverVerified Purchase
This is a lovely memoir with nice recipes. But even after reading her blog, Orangette, for only a few months, I think it is much better written and more entertaining than this book. That was confusing for me: maybe it's an issue of editing? I think this writer's very fine voice is somewhat muted and constrained in her book, whereas on her blog, it is in full bloom and I really like it. That said, I think this is well worth your time and money; I just really like her blog so much more.
36 of 39 people found the following review helpful
A book that begins with a father, surveying the dinner table, remarking, "You know, we eat better at home than most people do in restaurants" --- how can you not be instantly hooked? Especially when you learn he's not praising a wife who's studied at Cordon Bleu and whips out four-star masterpieces night after night. As his daughter tells us:
"There were hot dogs sometimes, and cans of baked beans. Our garlic came in a jar, minced and ready, and our butter was known to go rancid."
So what was so great about meals at the Oklahoma City home of Morris Wizenberg?
"It was the steady rhythm of meeting in the kitchen every night, sitting down at the table, and sharing a meal. Dinner didn't come through a swinging door, balanced on the arm of an anonymous waiter; it was something that we made together. We built our family that way --- in the kitchen, seven nights a week. We built a life for ourselves, together around that table. And although I couldn't admit it then, my father was showing me, in his pleasure and in his pride, how to live wholly, hungrily, loudly."
And so it came to pass, right there on page two of "A Homemade Life: Stories and Recipes from My Kitchen Table", that I fell in love with Molly Wizenberg. Because she had what so many of us want --- a childhood with a steady rhythm and loving parents. And because she had incorporated what she learned during those meals so she can, without embarrassment, write directly and emotionally about her family and its meals.
This book has 50 recipes, and many of them are fine and useful, if a bit tilted in favor of cakes and breads, pancakes and French toast. But they're not the reason that [...]--- the blog that got Molly Wizenberg started, the blog that got her a gig at Bon Appetit magazine and a book contract --- was named "the world's top food blog" by The Times of London. I mean, her father's recipe for potato salad called for ranch dressing and three-quarters of a cup of mayonnaise. That ain't gourmet.
The reason to read this book --- the reason to put down whatever you're currently reading and devour these 300 pages right now --- is that it connects the food to the people who cooked it and ate it. It's a memoir about a family, a real family. About a father who loved crossword puzzles, Dylan Thomas, his kids, his wife in high heels, a cold beer on Saturdays. And his daughter.
A kid who is loved by her father and knows it --- life will have a hard time crushing her. Molly Wizenberg left Oklahoma for graduate study in France before deciding she really wanted to do something with food. To support herself, she sold olive oils and taught English in Paris, then moved to Seattle and worked at a Pilates studio and as a publicist for an academic publisher. She didn't have many dates. Her first major kiss came rather late, in my view; her first big love (in Paris, of course) was unconsummated, unless you give him extra points for introducing her to Tarte Tatin. Not exactly a "career path". But the most important people in her life believed in her and told her so. And when her dad got sick.....
Yes, this is that book. We meet "Burg", learn his eccentricities, get his recipes for French toast (he used oil, not butter) and stewed prunes with citrus and cinnamon (which is, as Molly says, excellent when slightly warmed and served atop Greek yogurt). But exactly halfway into the book, when we are attuned to its music and want this quirky family story to go on and on, Molly's father got cancer and died. At 73. Very quickly. He went in for tests and surgery, fully expecting to leave the hospital and start chemo, but when the surgeons opened him up, they found no future inside him.
A book about meals is elemental, and that gives a food writer an edge when it comes time for her to write an account of death. Molly Wizenberg's chapters about her father --- his compressed dying and the long, long aftermath --- are as good as it gets. Believe me, you will weep. And cheer. Because she nails every moment. Like, after he died:
"I won't tell you that it was hard. You already know that. I was so numb sometimes that my hands stopped working, just locked themselves into funny, pinched fists. But then there was the gratitude, a sort of low-grade, queasy gratitude, that he was free."
There is the grieving, and the recipes from new friends, and the memories of her father that remind her of more recipes, and then, because she wants to write, she starts her blog. Soon she gets an e-mail from a young New York composer who, like her, had lived in France. Brandon Pettit writes: "My friend Meredith and I relate to you because your writing is exactly how we feel and talk about food and life." Molly writes back. And....
"It's going to sound silly, I know, but I think that what it all comes down to is winning hearts and minds. Underneath everything else, all the plans and goals and hopes, that's why we get up in the morning, why we believe, why we try, why we bake chocolate cakes. That's the best we can ever hope to do: to win hearts and minds, to love and be loved."
Foodies will come for the recipes, stay for the stories. Others will cherish "A Homemade Life" for the writing. Women's book clubs --- they'll show up by the thousands, making this book huge.
Her father would be so proud.
64 of 75 people found the following review helpful
on May 25, 2009
Format: Kindle Edition
I was so looking forward to this book and couldn't wait to read it. Unfortunately, I just couldn't get into it. I wanted to like it! But I just kept reading and reading - hoping for more and not getting it. There are not many recipes that I want to make, and the stories are too sentimental when I wanted humorous. Sometimes her stories would describe multiple dishes, but recipes for all described dishes were not provided. If you are going to talk about how great the dish is, give me the recipe too! It's not a bad book, but not the best in the genre that I have read.
Advice: check out her blog before you spend $9.99 on the book. Get a feel for her writing, her style, and her food. Then make your decision. I wish I had!
18 of 19 people found the following review helpful
on March 1, 2009
I have been reading the author's blog Orangette for some time now, and was excited to learn she was writing a book. I received mine (early!) from Amazon yesterday and immediately started to read. After an hour I was conflicted..should I continue reading, or start making one of the delcious recipes? That's the thing with Molly. Her stories are captivating. You actually go back with her in her memories of her family and friends and can really be there with her.
I am a true foodie. I love to cook food, shop for food, go out to eat and talk about food. Molly Wizenberg speaks right to me.
I have a cookbook collection of about 150 cookbooks and growing. I also own a Kindle and was debating on which edition to buy. I decided on the hardback book because I felt it deserved a place amongst my collection of cookbooks. I made the right decision.
If someone put a gun to my head and made me come up with one complaint, it would have to be that there were no photographs of her delicious recipes. This complaint is minor. If you read the stories preceding the recipes, you can already see what the food looks like.
I look forward to reading more from this gifted writer and cook! Congratuations Molly!
26 of 30 people found the following review helpful
on May 13, 2009
Molly has written a very charming book, and I have made several recipes and found them satisfying. However, a good number of chapters are lifted straight from her blog, and she writes in a short, 2-pager format that doesn't really dig deep into the stories she tells. It's written as "happily ever after" that makes me wish she fleshed out the details more, dug into some of the feelings that must swim beneath the surface of utter contentment with her lifestyle.
A good first effort, some solid recipes.
11 of 11 people found the following review helpful
on June 1, 2010
Format: PaperbackVerified Purchase
Sorry. I've followed Molly Wizenberg's blog Orangette for some time and also read her columns in Bon Appetit, so I think you could call me a fan of her confessional-foodie thing. I enjoyed reading the essays fronting each recipe. But once you come out from under the haze of descriptive prose, the recipes simply don't live up to the hype. I could barely believe it myself, the reviews have been so generous. I tried several recipes because Molly makes them all sound delicious--banana bread, hoosier pie, Ed Fretwell's soup, chickpea salad, carrot salad--and they ran the gamut from mediocre to passable. The one recipe that was a standout was Brandon's recipe for chana masala. Save your money for Marcella Hazan or Mark Bittman.
13 of 14 people found the following review helpful
on March 1, 2009
Format: HardcoverVerified Purchase
My daughter in law (from Oklahoma City) introduced me to the author's blog. I'm quite taken with it--and I ordered the book. It's very special. Not only is the author's writing style captivating--but the whole design and premise of the book is just about perfect. The recipes look wonderful--and I will be trying them starting this week. I also want to mention the whimsical illustrations--they are not to be missed. Hopefully, this is only the first of this author's books.
Edited to add: I've made the Winning Hearts and Minds Cake now---it was delicious. Six of us ate it with freshly whipped cream and strawberries. There were no leftovers.