Broccoli and Other Tales of Food and Love

Lara Vapnyar has a fascination with food, although not of the type usually written about and praised. Vapnyar's selection of food resembles her approach to fiction, which is simple, straightforward, and sustaining. Her first collection of short stories ("There are Jews in My House") showed the promise of a gifted story writer, and this second collection (a novel was published in between) confirm earlier expectations. The Russian born writer, now living in New York, came to the U.S. when she was 23 but writes in English. Perhaps writing in a second language has granted Vapnyar an economy with words other writers may want to imitate. Many of the stories deal with the Russian immigrant experience, especially in New York, where all the Russians are henceforth working as "computer programmers" no matter what their previous work entailed. Nina, the main character in the opening "A Bunch of Broccoli on the Third Shelf," actually was a computer programmer. Now she is obsessed with vegetable shopping, although she never actually gets around to cooking with them. Food, as in many of these stories, shows a hope for the future, of what people like Nina will someday accomplish. In the meantime, the vegetables rot in the refrigerator, another set of hopes turning moldy. However, while Vapnyar may deal in realism, she is not above seeing hope as the story ends with Nina standing on a chair above the broccoli finally steaming on stove as "the warm aroma of broccoli rose up, caressing Nina's face, enveloping the whole of her." The realism also takes hold in "Salad Olivier" where we see the heroine challenged to find a husband which, according to a psychologist, will allow her father to rise from the couch and reenter life. When she discovers such a man she realizes he may be more for his parents than for her, although she likes everything about him. Tempted to move on, she maintains the relationship in way that may be more familiar to most than they are comfortable with. Sex and food, never far apart since the creation of the novel (see Fielding's "Tom Jones") are also part of the landscape here; although in "Borscht" it is the lack of sex and in "Slicing Sauteed Spinach" it is the focus on sex for which food is always the backdrop. "Borscht" is a sentimental favorite in the surprisingly quick creation of two sad, yet forward moving lives. In many ways this story highlights Vapnyar's skill with the short story as it creates a range of emotions in just a few pages,all with little action. But "Luda and Milena" stands out in the collection as a story which is bound to be anthologized in future collegiate readers. Here we find two older single women (one a widow) using food as a way to entice the lone, elderly Russian man in their ESL class. The Friday potlucks become battlegrounds in the war for the heart, made only more hilarious by the complete dislike of cooking each women holds. The ending creates a satisfying resolution, but one completely unexpected.

In a triumphant return to the short story form of her extraordinary debut with There Are Jews in My House, Lara Vapnyar gives us a delightful new collection in which food and love intersect, along with their overlapping pleasures, frustrations, and deep associations in the lives of her unforgettable characters. Each story invites us into the uniquely captivating private worlds of Vapnyar's Eastern European native land. Even though Lara Vapnyar learned English only after immigrating to the USA in 1994, her writing is tasteful and vivid. Sprinkled with humor and the benevolence of humankind, this slim volume is a page-turner. The first story, "A Bunch of Broccoli on the Third Shelf," opens with a vegetable lover named Nina who has recently arrived from Russia. Nina connects with food preferably to those around her. The descriptions of the vegetables make the reader sense them, the smell of them and the feel of them. The colorful abundance of the vegetable markets in New York represents her own fresh hopes and dreams. When Nina's husband leaves her, Nina's sister rummages through the refrigerator and remarks: "You've got the whole vegetable graveyard in here." In "Puffed Rice and Meatballs," Katya yields to the whims of her lover in pillow talk. He tries to engage her in a discussion about the horror of communism but she changes the subject and recounts her first sexual experience to him instead. When she was in preschool, a young boy wanted to play "I'll show you mine and you show me yours," and she vividly recalls children eating from plates piled high with meatballs, countering the notion of food scarcity. Later at home, drinking dark tea and dipping into a jar of walnut jam, Katya finds the jam "too sugary and wrong." She's disgusted with herself and her story. The journey ends with a handful of recipes, and her recipe for lethally fatty meatballs comes with a warning: "If you need to kill yourself or another person and don't mind that the process will be slow and painful, here is the recipe." These stories are remarkable for the twists and turns of emotions they evoke in a reader. "They champed, they crunched, they jingled their forks, they clinked glasses." Armchair Interviews says: The volume may be slim, but the characters are full of depth and vitality. Its like having dessert before dinner, very indulgent, yet satisfying.

Another book from the author who grips with witty and creative writing. My favorite thing about Lara Vapnyar's stories is how masterfully she blends true life with fiction. While a lot of her ideas are drawn from the memories of growing up in the Soviet Union and later immigrating to the US, in the end they always make you wonder where exactly the transition was, and at which point a story took that sharp turn into the world of creativity, almost fantasy or farse. FYI: one definitely true statement - the snow really does not crunch here the same way it did back in Russia... If this is your first Vapnyar book, you also owe to yourself to read the other two: "There are Jews in My House", and "Memoirs of Muse". One thing I found evident reading her books is how her English skills have progressed. While the early stories had the same witty and warm feeling, sometimes the diction felt a little too much like a word for word translation from Russian. I have a good fortune being fluent in both English and Russian, and was able to pick up on subtle details like that. Overall, a great book, with a lot of powerful ideas packed in a small package.

Ms.Vapnyar has created here six elegant gems which cover the hopes, dreams and disappointments in the Russian emigree community. However, despite this focus on the Russian community in America these stories are universal, which is what makes them most memorable. The stories amazingly all revolve around humble foods. A head of broccoli becomes a symbol of possibility for a deserted woman. A bowl of borscht represents comfort to an emigree dealing with the demands of a new country. A bag of puffed rice is a reminder of a traumatic event in a young girl's life. All of the stories are tinged with the sadness of a place, a person, a dream left behind. Ms. Vapnyar deserves a wide audience for her beautiful prose.

These wonderful, carefully structured short stories are remarkable for the bewildering range of emotions they evoke in a reader. Each story is charming, gripping, entertaining, humorous, and highly readable. As one would sprinkle garlic salt and pepper flakes on a slice of pizza to enhance its taste, the author has generously sprinkled humor in all these stories; but there is a tinge of sadness, a sense of melancholy, rippling through all these stories also. All the stories are well written, of course, but the stories: "Luda and Milena", "Broccoli", "Borscht" and "Puffed Rice and Meatballs" are extraordinary, with vivid descriptions, witty observations, and hilarious comments, and the characters perfectly drawn. In the very funny but sad story, "Luda and Milena", the two elderly women are in search of a companion, and they hope to catch Aron Skolnik, the only eligible man in their English class, and vie for his attention. When the teacher declares Friday "The International Feast day", each Friday the students bring dishes popular in their countries. Neither of the women is fond of cooking, but Luda bakes spinach pie, any way, and Melina bakes cheese puffs. The competition builds, and one fine Friday they both bring meatballs. Poor Aron Skolnik chokes to death while gulping down the meatballs. The women feel relieved in a way because they wouldn't have to cook for him any more! Here is an example of the author's sense of humor, from the story "Salad Olivier": "Not only would the boyfriend "relieve" my father, he would also explain to us all the mysterious letters we got from banks, doctors, and gas and electric companies. He would help us move to a bigger, nicer place." Lara Vapnyar's prose is elegant and smooth-flowing: "Later, on the date, the man casually looked at his toes, but at the same time he discreetly scrutinized me, estimating the size of my breasts, the shape of the legs concealed by my slacks, trying to guess what I would and wouldn't do, trying to guess what was wrong with me (I'd agreed to a blind date, there must be something wrong), searching for flaws, finding them, finding the ones I'd been afraid that he'd find, finding ones I hadn't even known about." At the end of the book there is a "Roundup of Recipes," which, people who love to cook, or experiment in their kitchen, might enjoy. Even though Lara Vapnyar learnt English only after immigrating to the USA in 1994, she writes elegantly, and with an impressive style, too, just like Joseph Conrad, the great Polish writer who learnt English only in his adulthood, and earned the recognition as the greatest master of English prose.