Have you ever been so overwhelmed by a new dish that you are unable to say anything? Words like “delicious”, “scrumptious” and “delectable” struggle to come out but your sensory abilities are too busy relishing the amazing texture, savouring the rich flavour and cherishing the aroma that has suddenly overtaken your mind? That is how one feels after reading Kitchens of the Great Midwest. You know that what you have just consumed was akin to a skilfully prepared meal consisting of multiple courses, but your mind is preoccupied with identifying the new and unknown flavours that came together to form the delicious whole.

Don’t let the Great Midwest in the title deter you. Minnesota-born and raised author J. Ryan Stradal is not attempting to put the Twin Cities (Minneapolis-Saint Paul) or Des Moines on par with cultural hotspots such as New York, Boston, and San Francisco (he now lives in Los Angeles after all), but he does introduce readers to some of the unique charms of his native region, specifically Iowa, Minnesota and South Dakota.

Lutefisk is one such example, that powerful-smelling, jelly-like fish delicacy which is apparently beloved of descendants of Scandinavian immigrants who had settled in large numbers in the Midwest. Growing up in Duluth, Minnesota, Lars Thorvald was the worst smelling kid in school due to his father Gustaf, the owner of Gustaf & Sons Bakery, who insisted that Lars participate in the preparation of the traditional Christmas dish demanded by Lutheran churchgoers across the region. After graduating from high school Lars moves away from home to the Twin Cities where he eventually lands a job as chef at a lakeside restaurant. Here he handles heirloom tomatoes, wild rice, and hummus, among other ingredients, and since he no longer stinks of fish he manages to marry Cynthia, who is the smartest waitress in the restaurant.

The marriage does not last long but it does produce Eva, who grows up to be six feet tall and the owner of a once-in-a-generation palate. Even at age 11, Eva eats vegan blueberry sorbet and grows chocolate habanero chillies in her room. Of the latter she makes precious chilli oil which she sells to an executive chef at the best Mexican restaurant in Des Moines. During an otherwise disastrous teenage dinner date at a trendy restaurant, she manages to impress the chef who offers her an internship in his kitchen. Some years later she is invited to join an exclusive Sunday cooking group where she wows everyone with her Caesar salad. Not long after that she becomes a cooking sensation who charges $5,000 per person at her pop-up dinner clubs where guests must pay to be on the waiting list and still the earliest available date is in four years.

J. Ryan Stradal’s Kitchens of the Great Midwest is a delicious novel, to be enjoyed by those who like good food, as well as those who like good books

It’s all about Eva, but she proves to be an elusive and enigmatic protagonist. She pops in and out of the narrative, often years apart, and usually at a new location. In the meantime the story focuses on one of the many other characters who are all somehow connected to Eva, like a literary version of Six Degrees of Separation. Readers must slow down and remember names and connections even though curiosity will make them want to keep turning the pages.

Structurally speaking the novel is ingenious: each chapter is distinct and unpredictable yet each one is an integral part of the whole and must be read in sequence. Much like a multiple-course meal where the soup, salad, pasta, meat entree, dessert, and cheese all come together in the end to make one fully satisfying whole. Readers may not notice the chapter titles at first, but after a while they become impossible to ignore. ‘Sweet Pepper Jelly’ finds Eva’s cousin chugging down bottles of green pepper jelly in the women’s bathroom, while ‘Venison’ includes a dreaded scene — similar to the one in Bambi — which takes place on the first day of hunting season.

The author celebrates food and foodies while mocking some trends in food culture, like the ones Pat Prager is confronted with in Minneapolis. The proud winner of several bake-offs at county fairs, Pat takes a friend’s advice and enters her famous peanut butter bars at the Petite Noisette contest in the big city where everything is gluten-free, vegan, soy-free, and dairy-free. Pat shares her treats with a friendly young couple who, upon learning that they were made with real butter, accuse her of poisoning them and harming their unborn child.

Only Eva seems nonchalant about the food business: “Braque looked right at him again. ‘Listen to what your brother’s girlfriend is making,’ she said. ‘A Savoy and Mammoth Red Rock cabbage slaw with homemade Spanish peanut oil dressing, and a vegan aloo gobi with Purple of Sicily cauliflower and heirloom Mercer potatoes.’ ‘He doesn’t need to know all that,’ Eva said. ‘It’s basically just coleslaw and a spicy potato cauliflower stew.’”

While most of the narrative and the various characters are handled with impressive subtlety, the ending seems a little heavy-handed and somewhat clichéd. It is nonetheless a satisfying end to a fast-paced, quirky and beautifully-crafted tale which will be savoured by lovers of good food and good books alike.

Kitchens of the Great Midwest
(CUISINE)
By J. Ryan Stradal
Pamela Dorman Books, USA
ISBN 978-1451694147
320pp.