Amazon.com Review
Her memories, even more than her recipes, will charm readers in food writer Sharon Boorstin's delicious memoir,
Let Us Eat Cake. The book is the result of Boorstin's discovery of a 30-year-old notebook containing long-forgotten recipes. As she explains, "Each recipe brought back memories of the woman who gave it to me, of the occasion when we made and enjoyed the dish, and of the friendship we shared." By linking her memories of food, family, and friendship, Boorstin creates a charming hybrid of autobiography and sociology. Readers join her to feast at her parents' dinner table (Dad's fresh salmon loaf, Grandma's cheese blintzes), order the signature "Canlis" salad at Seattle's special birthday-dinner restaurant, cook a college friend's Tandoori chicken, and decorate cakes with her daughter, Julia.
Boorstin's work and friendships as a food writer have given her some names to drop and recipes to boot: Wolfgang Puck's matzo, Julia Child boiling lobsters in a laundry tub, Nell Newman offering papa Paul's angel food cake recipe. Engaging descriptions and vintage photos of family and friends flag several decades of social change--from the "patent leather shoes let boys look up your dress" warning of the '50s to the PalmPilots and tooth whitening of the turn of the 21st century. But Boorstin is at her best in relating funny and touching descriptions of meals with beloved friends. Her vivid portraits will remind readers of their own fond memories of food and friendship. --Barbara Mackoff
From Publishers Weekly
Noted food writer Boorstin was cleaning out her desk one day when she came across a notebook of recipes she'd collected as a newlywed in the late 1960s. Each recipe brought back memories of the women who'd shared it with her and the friendships that resulted. Boorstin threads these recipes for dishes such as Mireille's Halibut in Champagne and Ina's Brownies through her memoir, tracing the evolution of her friendships with women through the years, from her 1950s suburban Seattle childhood (the "Age of Innocence and Frozen Marshmallows") to the days of "women's lib" and the psychotherapy-saturated '70s, when Boorstin marries, has a daughter and begins documenting the California restaurant revolution for magazines such as Bon Appetit. Boorstin shares painful memories as well her sister's mental breakdown, her own broken engagement. As her daughter grows up and parental pressures ease, Boorstin begins to develop cherished relationships with women independent of her family. "When it comes right down to it," Boorstin writes, "a woman really is the sum of all the friends she has had in her life." The result is a charming homage to women's camaraderie. Although perhaps not as penetrating as M.F.K. Fisher's writings nor as sparkling as Laurie Colwin's, there are still treasures to be found in this likeable baby boomer memoir.