Tuesday, August 02, 2005

just can't stop

I was reading this Image hosted by Photobucket.com and to my surprise, I devoured it in one day. I guess it has partly to do with the fact that it was my day off yesterday.

Food Of Love was something I picked up on a whim in a teeny bookstore in Chiang Mai. It cost me only 350 baht and I thought it would make a good vacay read. But as usual I was overly ambitious in my reading, and didn't start on the book at all during my time in the Thai city.

Instead, yesterday, after finishing the four borrowed items from the library, I was searching for a nice easy read to bring along with me to the swimming pool.

I was very absorbed by the book, despite it's rather simple and quite obvious storyline:
Boy A spots Girl. Likes Girl but being a Boy makes up some story about being a chef. (He's only a waiter)
No worries, cos his friend Boy B, is actually a chef and does the cooking for his dates.
But Boy B falls in love with Girl, but would never admit that because (a) she's Boy A's girl (b) he doesn't think he's good enough....

You can see where it's all going really...

But what captured me was the way Capella weaves food into the story. Food is used in courtship and also very much a part of their everyday lives. They drink espressos at the neighbourhood cafe - never cappucino after 10am. And you drink it standing by the bar, not sitting down.

The way Bruno (Boy B) goes to the market and spots some gorgeous white asparagus, expensive but just perfect for his meal. And his beautiful ice-cream with chilis... mmmm...

Even when he talks about cooking offal and brains and various other body parts, I just can't help but wonder what they all taste like.

This was a book of fiction, not a cookbook with fancy glossy artful photos, yet it made me want to eat, want to cook and feast on something absolutely sinful.

But it was already 2am and no way was I going to do that... so instead I feasted on the book.

The more I read, the more I wanted to eat. Somehow I managed to push the overwhelming temptation to raid the fridge, finished the book with a sigh, turned off the light and went to sleep. This entry would ideally end with blissful dreams but it was a rather weird one that had me all confused.

Reading this book also made me want to travel to Italy. Not to Rome, where the bulk of the story is set, but up to the little towns and villages, where Bruno stays for a few months and of course, does more cooking.

I never thought I'd like it, with its rather flighty name and cover. But Food Of Love is sensual and has its charm.

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