Remedial cooking lessons

Linda Sappenfield — Tue, 22 Feb 2011 22:40:00 GMT

People who think laughter is the best medicine apparently have never had morphine.

The pile of get-well cards my husband received offers more nuggets of humor, but that's my favorite. Its brevity also typifies the extent of my concentration lately. We've moved furniture to make way for orthopedic gadgets; the nurse, physical therapist, and others visit at different times each day. Normal routines and lengthy intervals for reading have become infrequent. Besides, witnessing the success of medical technology is pretty distracting.

When my reading dwindled down to hastily scanned emails and the newspaper, I combed the premises for volumes to peruse in small doses. Discovering two ideal choices, I found my joy tempered by the sheepish admission that I'd set aside Christmas gift books in exactly the same way my grandmother (and probably yours, too) quarantined her new treasures. The sweater or robe or whatever would be admired, then relegated to a top shelf or bottom drawer because it was "too nice to use right away". By the time the gift was rescued from its solitary confinement, it would have gone out of style.

Perhaps back in December I foresaw that David Sedaris' Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk would solve my "what to read when I have fifteen minutes" quandary in February. The second volume--Clara's Kitchen--was a present from my mother-in-law and is even more perfect because it's authored by a grandmother: Clara Cannucciari of online Great Depression Cooking fame.

Clara's gift to the world (besides her wonderful family, including filmmaking grandson Chris Cannucciari) is her generous perspective on life and luck. Recounting her clan's efforts to eke out a subsistence during the Depression, Clara draws the reader in with the depth of her appreciation for all the clever strategies her parents devised. The 90+-year-old matriarch also manages to avoid implying that anyone too young to have experienced that era is thus lacking in moral fiber.

If I hadn't already warmed to Clara's fondly detailed memories, I'd certainly have been won over by her account of working in a Hostess Twinkie factory. Though not divulging any secrets of industrial dessert production, Clara does share mouth-watering recipes that are nutritious, inexpensive, and appealing. Even without glossy color photos, these dishes (Eggplant Burgers, Fried Burdock, Quick Pickles, Bay Leaf Tea) sound so simple and natural that readers will be compelled to try at least a few.

Thanks to Clara, I now understand why one's kitchen should never be without lemons, that Pecorino Romano is better than Parmesan, and that resourcefulness and good humor are the ultimate survival tactics. Laughter is powerful stuff, after all.

When nothing but second best will do

Linda Sappenfield — Tue, 11 Aug 2009 19:44:00 GMT

We're frequently asked for reading advice--which author to try if you've finished everything by your favorite writer, which book comes first in a series (and whether that matters)--but almost never queried for listening suggestions. Most readers have assessed their needs in this case, whether it's suspenseful fiction to prevent drowsiness or an assigned classic to facilitate multi-tasking. My requirement is even more practical.

Audiobooks usually correlate with navigation--road trips, commuting, fitness walking. If you are as directionally challenged as I, you are obliged to devote extra attention to the goal of reaching your destination on the first try. When walking a familiar route, I may safely choose any sort of audio literature, secure in the knowledge that muscle memory will deliver me back home after I become completely absorbed in the story. Driving is another matter.

While I prefer KUT or music for local driving, nothing but audiobooks will suffice for longer trips--excursions that demand awareness of imminent turns, distances between points, and the voice of the GPS (where have those been all my life?). So, for highway consumption I seek out thrillers that are only moderately suspenseful, nonfiction that is reasonably interesting but not enthralling, and--above all--humor that isn't too funny.

David Sedaris' Me Talk Pretty One Day (read by the author, no less) has been deleted from my "approved for driving" list for all time. Enjoying this fine production during a Kansas-to-Texas run, my husband and I were caught off guard by an especially riotous passage. We found ourselves literally doubled over and snorting with laughter in the midst of city traffic. Thank goodness I married a natural navigator; if I'd been alone I would surely have ended up in Arkansas.

Reader's Exchange : David Sedaris

Remedial cooking lessons

When nothing but second best will do