The Dinner

Just when you thought El Jefe had abandoned her post.  Take yourselves back in time, way back, to early December.  Fake snow on the front porch, the aroma of rich winter cooking in the air, Christmas trees alight, and avid readers drunk on champagne.  It could be none other than the twelfth annual holiday Book Club! Even better because Blondie was all up in the hizzy!  Once in BC, always… 

Thanks to The Highlander and Mr. Matty once again for hosting.  Seems like just yesterday there were a million calories worth of artichoke dip and cured meats set forth before us, to be followed by beef bourguignon (new recipe—a winner!) ladled over truffled mashed potatoes (it’s always early January before El Jefe recovers from potato mashing carpal tunnel syndrome), roasted brussel sprouts, non-under-saladed salad (a bounty in fact!), crusty baguettes and Heath Bar cookies galore.  Deee lishy! All El Jefe wants for Christmas is to never stray from that menu.  And the other thing El Jefe wants is for Carmen not to take ALL the leftovers home. Ever. Again.

Our December book, The Dinner, by Herman Koch, is an international best-seller but did not fly off the shelves among our group.  It came in at a lackluster 6.7. To refresh our collective memories, this was the story of two families living in Amsterdam:  Paul, an ex-schoolteacher (dishonorably discharged as we later discover), his wife Claire, and their son; and Paul’s brother Serge, Dutch presidential hopeful, his wife Babette, and their two sons, one adopted from Africa.  The children of these two families commit a heinous crime when they set a homeless person on fire inside an ATM booth, and the story deals with the parents’ discovery of this incident and the ensuing consequences—all recounted during the course of a dinner at one of Amsterdam’s hottest restaurants. Despite the violence and psychological twists in this book, several people commented that it was a slow read:  long stretches between inflection points, disjointed chapters flipping back and forth in time, and a pace that just generally dragged.  As a counterpoint, it was noted that the pace of the book was deliberately measured in order to match the theme and setting, that is, it took place over multiple courses of an elegant meal rather than being served up in one shot like fast food.  The Dinner also was criticized for not having a single likeable character and for the fact that Paul, the protagonist, did not wrestle with the moral issues in the story at all. On the other hand, the author clearly intended the readers to grapple with the significant moral questions presented, and we went around the room and talked about what we each would have done if our own child had committed the crime but had not been apprehended.  Would we keep silent and hope the authorities never figured it out?  Or would we turn our kids’ asses in? In addition, the book was highly successful in its stunning 180 degree flip of the reader’s expectations as to which family was “normal” and “happy.”  The book is narrated by Paul, and at the outset he depicts himself and Claire as the upstanding couple and casts doubt over Serge and Babette.  Most of us really enjoyed the way Paul’s utter depravity was developed little by little—his uncontrolled episodes of remorseless violence brought on by some unidentified (and, according to The Doctor, fictional) genetic flaw—and then of all things Claire turned out to be a total psychopath, instructing her own son to kill his cousin and slashing Serge’s face to pieces with the stem of a broken wine glass so the truth wouldn’t come out. Dang! Finally, because of the fact that Paul turns out to be so cray-cray, he is an unreliable narrator and the reader is left questioning whether there are parts of the story that never even happened at all.  In sum, better than last year’s book on magic tricks but a far cry from Zeitoun. 

Who needs dinner in Amsterdam?  Just snacks when you get the munchies.

 Deceptively peaceful.

Cate Blanchett will make her directorial debut adapting The Dinner-- easy, Claire.

The January recap is right on the heels, stay tuned. xoej

Fooling Houdini

Thanks to the Highlander for hosting the 10th annual Holiday BC!  Hard to believe, but true.  Love that it's become such a tradish, even down to the menu:  hot artichoke dip (the low calorie one), bruschetta, beef bourguignon over garlic mashed potatoes, LOTS of kale salad, haricots verts, brownies and blondies and those famous Heath Bar cookies from Logan's Run. Lots of champers. Lots.  Thank goodness we had enough food. 

Well, it looks like Alex Stone couldn't pull a high rating out of a hat for our December book, Fooling Houdini.

The book on average scored a 5.3.  From the critics, two main themes were repeated:  first, that the book was too "thin"--in other words, not enough tricks in the bag to fill 300+ pages (in fact, the 10th Member said the entire book should have been an 8-page article in Vanity Fair:  snap!)-- and second, the story didn't flow well, skipping around from physics to street hustlers to the author trying to pick up girls in bars using card tricks. While these readers found certain individual elements among this melange of topics to be intriguing (in particular, learning about New York's magic "underground" was a favorite), there wasn't enough overall continuity to keep the audience engaged. Others in our group (haters, all of them) said they just didn't care about the author and that the book got overly technical. This last point is ironic considering how much heat the author took for "revealing" magic tricks in his writing.  It would seem that your average reader doesn't really want that level of detail and certainly isn't going home and trying to replicate the Ambitious Card Routine. On the flip side, the non-haters appreciated the insights into the history of magic, the tie-ins to math and science, the play-by-play instructions on how to run The Monte, and the theory that Jesus Christ himself might have been a magician. Abracadabra, so much for miracles. One thing we all could agree on: the dork factor here was super high. Super. High. Magic Olympics, anyone?

Dai Vernon, a.k.a "the Professor"

Richard Turner, card manipulation expert (and blind!)

 Jim McBride.  Oh so Vegas

Not sexy, right?

Sexy

In related news, check out this blast from the past!  Our next meeting is at Chez Jefe on Tuesday.  We are reading Ms. Hempel Chronicles.  See you there and then.  xoej

When You Are Engulfed In Flames

It's amazing how quickly a glass of wine puts one at ease after the drive out to the 'Dena.  Thus, we settled onto Red's newly white sofas and savoured the past month's gossip and une assiette de fromages.  They say a respectable cheese platter should consist of three to five cheeses, assorted as to country of origin, texture, flavor (mild, strong), or milk type.  Complimentary sides such as a bowl of almonds, sliced salami, or mixed olives add variety and color to the presentation.  Naturally, one would expect La Mademoiselle to be well-versed in matters de fromage, and our offering was nothing short of decadent:  D'affinois (Rhone, cow), Montbriac (Pouligny-Saint-Pierre, cow), and Humboldt Fog (Humboldt, California, goat).

Montbriac, soft, creamy texture, with blue veining.

Humboldt Fog, luscious with a subtle tangy flavor.

Most of the opening sequence was devoted to a comparison of our favorite online luxury retailers and their shipping policies.  Yes, ladies, this is important business, particularly since it led to the discovery that the Club of Books is actually magic.  One evening we decry those who aim to profit from their bulk shipping discounts, and the very next morning Gilt Groupe offers free shipping for the day.  A coincidence you say?  Oh ye of little faith.

For dinner we feasted on roast tri-tip, pommes dauphinoise, and haricots verts in a balsamic shallot dressing.  Lish!  But wait, there's more.  Never one to settle for the merely conventional, Red substituted Comte in favor of traditional Gruyere.  It was a tasty trade that rendered the crust of the gratin even more delightfully gooey.  Red recommends the Oxo mandoline over Zyliss.

 Pommes Dauphinoise

Oxo Mandoline, $69.95 at Crate and Barrel.

For dessert was that relaible standby, brownies a' la mode.  Like a trusted friend, always there when needed.

When You Are Engulfed In Flames, by David Sedaris, scored a respectable 7.4.

The good thing about books comprised of short stories is that one can come away with a sense of satisfaction even without reading to the last page.  The drawback is that the book as a whole is at risk for lacking the cohesivenss that comes from having a classic beginning, middle, and end.  In this case, however, the common thread tying the whole work together is Sedaris himself, whose outlandish and neurotic approach to life is the centerpiece of his distinctive brand of humor.  That one individual can land himself in so many offbeat situations is an impressive feat.  But at the same time it leads to questions... How does this guy remember everything?  Has he been taking notes on his life since the fifth grade?  Are these vignettes all drawn from his own experience, or has he placed himself in other people's stories in order to fill up the book?  What if some of the tales are made up entirely?  But, reader, if you can suspend disbelief then you are guaranteed to guffaw in bed when Sedaris gets trapped in the back of a New York taxicab while the driver talks about f*#%y  f#@k, or tests out the Stadium Pal in an attempt to "accessorize."  Sedaris is a master of taking these mundane and yet somehow familiar personal foibles and finding among them unexpected connections that give the story a bigger meaning.  Larry David, Ira Glass, and Jeannette Walls (the Glass Castle), to name a few, probably owe one to Mr. Sedaris, big time.

Memory Lane:  Freakonomics, by Steven D. Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner (Feb. 2006).

Our next meeting is at Ms. K's house on Wednesday, March 3.  The Foxx is bringing apps, and Logan's Run is in charge of dessert.  We are reading Sarah's Key, by Tatiana de Rosnay.  And we must, dear readers, give a What What! to my hometown N'awlins Saints.  Well done players!

Quarterback Drew Brees (9) holds the Vince Lombardi Trophy after the Saints' 31-17 win against the Indianapolis Colts at Super Bowl XLIV.