Feeding a Yen

April 7, 2003
These 14 essays—which first appeared in the New Yorker
and other magazines but have been reworked to form a cohesive whole—nearly all grow out of Trillin's concept of a "register of frustration and deprivation." Recorded are the delicacies that have not taken root in his otherwise fertile home turf of Greenwich Village. For those better acquainted with Trillin's droll humor than his culinary predilections, it should be noted that Trillin is no snooty foodie. His abiding enthusiasm for various dishes is matched by a disdain for "review trotters," and the objects of his affection are more homey than rarefied: Louisiana boudin, Santa Fe posole, pimientos de Padrón and Kansas City barbecue, for instance. About these products, he crafts writing that meanders but always finds its center. The deadpan wit, deprecating himself as much as others, remains at a slow simmer throughout. Just as the theme of longing is in danger of becoming repetitive, Trillin throws in a couple of pieces that break the mold but not the rhythm of the book. For Trillin's many fans, it has been too long since a new collection of his food writing has made its way to market—1984's Third Helpings
was the last volume strictly devoted to his gastronomic exploits. However briefly, this should sate their longings.

April 15, 2003
This collection of food essays by humorist, novelist, and satirical poet Trillin (Tepper Isn't Going Out) centers on culinary oddities around the world. Trillin makes semireligious pilgrimages to remote places in search of the best examples of local cuisine, be it pumpernickel bagels or Ecuadorian ceviche, usually prepared by ordinary folks in neighborhood restaurants. He's an adventurous chowhound with a taste for the unusual and makes wry observations on culture and food with his trademark wit and gentle sarcasm. He avoids the "Zagat-clutching foodies" but meets quite a few like-minded individuals in his travels. Several of these essays have previously appeared in The New Yorker and Gourmet magazine, but they benefit from being collected together, as his gustatory to-do list of favorite dishes ultimately comprises a "Register of Frustration and Deprivation." When he finally does get to satisfy one of his longings, he writes, "My intention was simple. I was going to eat enough of such food to hold me for a while." Recommended for all public libraries. [Previewed in Prepub Alert, LJ 1/03.]-Julie James, Thomasville P.L., NC

Copyright 2003 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

March 15, 2003
Trillin's latest title anthologizes his essays on food that appeared chiefly in the " New Yorker. "A dedicated Manhattanite, Trillin good-humoredly measures all life experiences by the standards of his own tiny neighborhood. Bagels not meeting ideals inaugurated by Gotham delis become objects of derision. Nevertheless, Trillin appreciates certain other inventions from the world's culinary traditions. He waxes poetic over Galician peppers, then searches Ecuador tirelessly for the perfect ceviche, only to discover a fondness for a rare high Lenten fish and vegetable soup. He combs New York's Chinatown, seeking his favorite dim sum and other gustatory delights. This leads Trillin to a reverie on a Prague Chinese restaurant serving up "Roast Pork Knee," available in two sizes. New York's outer boroughs disport themselves as sources of even more exotic ethnic foods. A Kansas City upbringing tempers Trillin's New York focus, compelling him to acknowledge that at least some American locale beyond New York, Louisiana, and California counts, even dimly, as "civilization." When he's back home, Trillin's prose turns rhapsodic as he describes the hundreds of dishes served in a hole-in-the-wall eatery whose owner is phobic about publicity. Fans of Trillin and his peripatetic appetite will gobble up their master's offerings.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2003, American Library Association.)