A Homemade Life by Molly Wizenberg

Pretty cover, eh?

I chose this book because, from the inside cover flap, it seemed that it would fit both my Books on France challenge and my Foodies Read challenge (not to mention my Nerdy Non-Fiction challenge). Well, it didn't quite have enough about France for me to include it in Books on France, but it does meet the other challenges.

This book is a collection of essays, accompanied by recipes, about stories from Molly Wizenberg's life, mainly about how she learned to deal with her father's death.

I mentioned before that this book had all the warm-fuzziness of a foodie read that Julie & Julia just didn't have. And it's true. After my disappointment with Julie Powell, Molly Wizenberg was just the thing.

This book, to use a food analogy, isn't the meaty main course. It's a collection of dainty appetizers, salads, and desserts. It reads a lot like a blog, as though Wizenberg just pulled posts straight from her blog and slapped them into a book (and for all I know, she did). If I were going to read this book the way it ought to be read, I would maybe keep it on my bedside table and read an entry or two in an evening when I'm having trouble sleeping. (But it's a library book, and I'm too book-obsessive to do that sort of thing.) Wizenberg's writing is light and sweet. She doesn't bog you down with long descriptions or affected prose; she just tells it like it is, simply and thoughtfully.

Julie & Julia by Julie Powell

Well. Finally, the book I'd been waiting so anxiously to read.

Julie & Julia, by Julie Powell, documents the outcome of Julie Powell's crazy idea to cook all the recipes in Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking in one calendar year. She laughs, she cries, she kills lobster, she scrapes marrow out of a bone, as well as many other wild cooking endeavors.

I'd been wanting to read this book ever since I saw the movie--when it came out, a year or two ago. (Or three? When did it come out?) I really liked the movie, and my mistake was expecting the book to be similar.

Well, the book was no warm-and-fuzzy foodie read, if you ask me. In fact, I believe it was aimed at the demographic of 20-30-year-old hipster women who enjoy reading about other people's sex lives. (Although I'm the right age, I don't think I fit the demographic.) I read in another review (don't ask me where, I can't remember) that Julie Powell was a little too self-obsessed. Understatement.

Powell seems to be operating on the assumption that her readers care about her secretarial job and her friends' lives. I guess that's a pretty normal assumption to make when you're writing a memoir, except I didn't enjoy it as much as other memoirs because frankly, I didn't really like Powell. She's just, well, not very nice. And again, that's an understatement.

Books on France Challenge 2013

I have found the first challenge I've decided to commit to for 2013!

This challenge is being hosted by Words and Peace. Basically, you read books that are either:

a) set in France,

b) written by a French author, 

c) written in French (not Canadian French), or

d) about a French theme. 

Now, I'll be honest. Since I took my last required French class over the summer, French and I have not been the best of friends. We just needed some time away from each other. 

But when I saw this, I remembered all the good times. I remembered that deep down inside me, there is a francophile waiting to come out. And I realized that although I need a good long break from structured French classes, I still try to read the washing instructions in French on the tags on my towels, sheets, and clothes.