Customer Reviews

Spiced To Death: A Culinary Mystery (Culinary Mysteries)

5 star:		(4)
4 star:		(0)
3 star:		(2)
2 star:		(4)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

This book is aimed at "foodies", those of us who love good food, good wine, and good dining. Unfortunately for Mr. King, foodies also love authenticity. He calls Hunan Province an island, thinks hot rice cake soup is uncommon and new, (we've eaten in for years in St. Louis as Sizzling Rice soup), and thinks that an American serving a prison sentence could run for President of the U.S.

Mr. King's writing is pleasant, but he needs an editor!!

I enjoyed Peter King's first installment of this series, The Gourmet Detective, and thought little of our hero's seemingly misplaced flirtations during the course of that mystery, but in Spiced to Death it appears that the Gourmet Detective's libido is in overdrive. In the midst of an interesting case, our detective seems to be unable to resist coming on to every female that crosses his path - and he seems terribly confident that each one will be pleased with his overtures and respond in kind. Maybe I'm annoyed that we still don't have a name for this detective, a writing device that's more bothersome than compelling. Truthfully, I enjoy reading culinary mysteries a great deal, and I'm very impressed with King's series so far as it give a lot of detail and he is able to create an atmosphere in each scene. I'm just not as sympathetic to our hero as I feel I should be. Overall, Spiced to Death is a fairly good book. I love the food references and descriptions; I'm amazed, too, that the characters can function after so much wine and liquor with each meal. It's not a page turner, though. And, if you don't like self-involved people, you may have little tolerance for the Gourmet Detective (hey, Peter King! Give this guy a name!).

I had read the first book in this series and found it likeable. This one however, was very slow to read. I got tired of the unnamed detective coming on to every women he met. Some of the food descriptions were quite interesting.

The visit to Dr. Li seemed almost paranormal. By the time I got to the end of this book I couldn't remember reading about the murderer until near the end of the book. I decided to go back & read the book again to see if this was the case. However, it was so slow to read, I decided it wasn't worth it. I just didn't care. I wouldn't read another book in this series.

Lack of originality keeps popping up on this second adventure of the Gourmet Detective. This story is too long and too similar to the previous one which, although not in my list of favourites, was definitely better than this one.

In a mystery story the presence of red herrings is a must, however, Mr. King scatters them all around without much purpose, and also in excess. For instance, what was the point of the food fair so extensively described, (even if this is a culinary mystery? And the woman from the "Phoenicia Restaurant"? I thought this would have been a much more insterested relationship to develop than the one between our protagonist and the female Sergeant assigned to protect his back. This last instance is also the same one of the first novel when the Gourmet Detective developed quite a chauvinistic appreciation to Sergeant Winnie. Mr. King seems to have run out of ideas when writing his second novel of what appears to be quite a boring series.

As for the food comments, again, they are excellent as suggestions and will make anyone's mouth water. Which reminds me to keep suggesting to Peter King that he really should try the non-fiction genre and start that cookbook right away!

The added mysteries tethered to and woven through The Celestial Spice (Ko Feng) foundation for this plot were rich and tasty indeed, and gave this novel a heady complexity well beyond a classic mystery, actually beyond a classic culinary.

Whereas most foodie mysteries are bubbly, light cozies, emulating the brightest, ozone-seeking champaign, this one is a simmering milk-chocolate, alchemizing into a dark, heavy ale, dense with hints of molasses; yeasty with hops; rich with nuance, depth, and complexity.

What I felt reading the denouement scenes in SPICED TO DEATH was that Peter King (feels like a pseudonym, but one which fits the flavor of the book) absolutely relished writing this novel, like a kid in a sandbox overflowing with plots, characters, childhood impressions and schemes. After reading the delightfully dramatic heroic leaps through the culminating chapters and scenes, I began to notice the whiffs of this childlike "I did this" ecstasy underlying the well done mystery which stretches beyond that, toeing into the edge of the mystical.

A reference to one of this plot's Eastern Magic characters being reminiscent of the ancient Fu Manchu stories (which Peter obviously relished with non-stop drools) was my strongest clue of this endearingly youthful trait which most authors possess, but some attempt to subdue, in order to act like grown up professionals (succeeding to various degrees).

Thus, Therefore, and Whereas, another compliment I would slip to Peter King's SPICED, beyond my appreciation of the initial and continuous inducements of mouth watering responses driven by delicious prose, is that he doesn't appear to know (thank all the celestial seasonings of heaven) that he's supposed to tame or tone the wild-eyed, little-kid, absolute love of writing fiction, the mad creative soul clacking away at a keyboard, with hairs flying (or standing on end) and chuckles emerging around red-faced chagrin, exposing all face and body reflections of what each character is feeling as words tumble and toss from muse to mind to keys.

Peter can say, "I did this," with thumbs in vest and a voice filled with the gleeful pride of the very young.

I can say, "I felt that," with the appreciation of an author/reader who revels in untamed, untarnished, untethered, pure spirit, be it flowing from me or from the radiance of another.

The Gourmet Detective, as I continued to reach for and long to know his name, is an unusual blend of character components.

First, he's a native of London, visiting and observing New York from a British connoisseur's viewpoint, seamlessly blending sensitive satire on TV offerings, with barely reserved rapture at the extensive cultural availability of taste bud uptake inhibitors in the Big Apple, or The Big Bagel, as the case in time may be.

Second, he's not hard boiled, nor is he a true detective, nor is he macho or forcefully, tanging-ly male. He almost comes across (in a delightful pose, to me) like a gorgeous, gregarious gay guy attempting, though not trying too hard, more like playing with it, to portray a macho, bravo, heroic collection of juicy testosterone. I loved the way his bravado flickered from fade to flash to fade, and especially the way he seemed comfortable with his variety of subtle mood shifts.

Of course, The Gourmet Detective has as developed of a connoisseur's taste for the varieties of female allures as he does for all things culinary (prepared for working with teeth and tongue). He's sensual, but not overly so; male, but oh so subtly so. He's a good sleuth, yet he doesn't have that "try too hard" feel that some have, with their variety of methods (explained in great detail and with smug self-satisfaction) of collecting and analyzing clues. The Gourmet's detecting flows so smoothly, it doesn't seem to follow any put-together technique or M.O. His "method" of discovery is so natural it appears to be more a Right Brain dance-through-the-luxurious-dark, than a Left Brain show-of-Sherlock.

I've been reading culinaries for years, seeking the ones with the strongest, most frequent taste bud stimulations. Yes, absolutely, I've enjoy immensely all the series I've read and reviewed, imbibing with heady satisfaction what each develops as its own unique flavor, sometimes through ingenious and satisfying means other than food preparation or imbibing, and that is a good thing. Still, the only other culinary series I've found so far with as many yummy yet sophisticated, mouth watering passages as SPICED TO DEATH, is Phyllis Richman's Chas Wheately series, the latest of which is WHO'S AFRAID OF VIRGINIA HAM (see my spotlighted review). Also, I should note that RED HOT MURDER by Joanne Pence (see my raving epistle review of this 13th offering in Pence's Angie Amalfi series) has come up to a level of tasty gourmet shenanigans which stand right up to Phyllis Richman and Peter King.

From the beginning to the end of this novel, Peter offers a variety of intense gourmet delights, genuinely of the tongue tanging type. I learned more about spices here, in a more natural, memory retention way, than I have through immersions in many nonfiction tomes on the subject. I read more names (and luscious descriptions) of exotic dishes here than I'll ever be able to remember, and certainly more than I'll be able to spell correctly without this novel at hand.

I have only one complaint about this book.

In the concluding statement (which is exquisite in its own right), three dots follow the words, "I tasted" and precede te words, "our eyes met."

The problem there for me is that within the space of those three dots, Peter King cheated me of the most prime location to break through, "I took a bite of bread." He stopped short of entering the sacred realm of:

"Teeth sliced through the warm, moist bounce of a steaming, spongy slice of homemade heaven. Tongue maneuvered, saliva surged, and the flavor of yeasty tang began ..."

The above sentence shows where three dots have earned their space. Please, PUHLEESE, please, Peter, TELL me HOW it tastes!!! We're speaking about an entre laced with Ko Feng, for heaven's sake!

Okay, okay, editors exist to make certain authors don't go too far into the realms of personal obsessions which might not be shared by the majority of readers. But, but, but ... Aren't culinary cozies DA PLACE for telling what food TASTES like when rolled on the tongue????

Sigh. I shouldn't have brought up this point here, in a review of the novel which comes closest of all to answering this craving perfectly. Those final three dots, though, ...

Surely, Peter King KNOWS that great and gutsy food is more sensual than sex?

That's not to downplay the major acrobatic activity of the animal kingdom. Not at all. Not. At. All. But. We HAVE (and have long had) a plethora of steamy novels, toying with foreplay all through the plot, don't we?

Enough may not be enough in some cases, but in my rambling in this review, this is it.

Let me draw the line:

Rather than a culinary using wine as the thematic draw, SPICED TO DEATH can legally be touted as BEING a fine Pinot Noir just beginning to peak in its best season, year, and batch. Catch it now, and pray that Peter is allowed to continue writing many more Gourmet Detective episodes into the marketplace of books.

Hands Folded, Eyes Bright with Spirit Glow (tongue in a cheek, anticipating more flavors to come),
Linda G. Shelnutt

P.S. If ya wanna keep reading ya gotta look at the good sides of books, or ya'll be singing, "Where have all the authors gone ... lo-o-o-ng time pa-as-sing ..."

I very much enjoyed this (2nd in the series) for the whirlwind tour of cuisines, the information about the historical and current value of spices, and the "you-are-there" description of the locale. However, the lead character views every woman he meets in terms of her figure. His constant lustfulness brings the story down, which is why it only rates 3 stars.

Loved this book. Felt as if I were in Casablanca looking for the letters of transit, while in the book we're running around New York looking for an extinct spice supposedly recently found, but also recently stolen. Loved all the characters and the food descriptions are wonderful. This book is really enjoyable for everyone who likes to eat. As a tee-totaling vegetarian, I would never eat or drink muchh of anything described, but it all sounds so fascinating. I plan to read this book and the Gourmet Detective a 2nd time, just for the ambience. Normally I don't care for British detectives (except for Morse and Dagliegh< sorry about the spelling) but this book takes place in America and even if it didn't (as the Gourmet Detective) it is wonderful. The only unbelievable part of the book is the authentication of the extinct spice. How could it possibly be certified as Ko Feng which no one has seen in 500 years? It seems to me that all the experts could say is that this spice is something completely new or unknown and may be Ko Feng. Anyway, this is an excellent book and makes for great reading.

Written in the first person, Spiced to Death is the second in the Gourmet Detective series. The principle character is the Gourmet Detective, a food agent and researcher whose job is to track down various foods and spices for various clients. In Spiced to Death he is hired by an old colleague to help identify and confirm the receipt of a mystical and just rediscovered, Asian spice known as Ko Feng when it arrives at the airport in New York. The spice is especially valuable in that no-one has seen it in almost six hundred year.

After helping confirm the spice to the best of his ability, the spice mysteriously disappears from the truck that was carrying it, despite the truck having been secured. When the Gourmet Detective's colleague is found dead, the suspicion falls on himself and he is forced to help the police in tracking down the thief and the murderer.

Review
First off, I will say that I have no idea what the main character's name is. It might be in the book somewhere, but it wasn't obvious as I looked for it.

The novel is a decent read. As far as detective novels go, it could be worse and a lot better. It presents a little bit of a locked room puzzle that it solves in a rather unexciting way. That said, the mystery was enough to keep me reading and I actually looked up Ko Feng out of curiosity when I was done with it (it doesn't exist).

Spiced to Death is a themed mystery novel, this one focusing on food. Like many of the themed mystery novels of this nature, it sometimes feels like the writer tried to shoehorn in as much of the theme as he could. I don't have a problem with themed mysteries, I just find it obnoxious when the author tries so hard to bombard the reader with it. The main character of Spiced to Death spends a lot of his time talking to suspects (who are obviously not the perp) and exploring food. A good bit of this seems to have little to do with the story. I suppose if you were foodie, you'd get more out of it than I did.

Then there's the fact that all the female characters are described as women with sexpot looks who all seem to be attracted to the main character. Mary Sue much? Maybe it is because the main character is English. Who knows.

The locked room mystery had me going until the rather mundane and somewhat obvious explanation that had me slapping my head for not seeing it myself. And the murderer was entirely not obvious. I think I figured out who did it when the detective did, mainly because there really weren't any clues that I could see pointing to him. I don't think the author broke the detective code, but it came as a bit of a surprise. Maybe I missed something.

All in all, I enjoyed the novel, but if you decide to dive in, don't expect anything too deep. This isn't all that complex a mystery and it meanders around a lot. 2 stars

Peter King's culinary mysteries are fun reading and very enjoyable. People who look for factual errors in a book and worry about the characters libido, or any other minor flaw, are just not into enjoying the book for fun itself. Peter King shines in my opinion and I have thoroughly enjoyed all his books.

Thought you might like some thoughts from an English reader as the "detective" is supposed to be English. All I can say is that I'm glad that the majority of English people don't seem to have so many hang ups about race. Perhaps in England we just don't refer to people by their colour and nationality ALL of the time. What I found particularly irritating was the description of the large black man who the detective assumed to be Sri Lankan. Has Peter King ever been to Sri Lanka? The people are Asian and of "typical" (excuse that phrase) Asian colouring. They are not as black as he would have us believe. Also King's detective is just so not English. We aren't all wandering around over here saying "PO'd" despite the fact that King thinks this phrase has crossed the Atlantic. Anyway, despite the above the idea was good - food and crime is an irristable combination, but I wish King would do a bit more research into what the English are really like.