Donovan is such a vivid writer — smart, raunchy, vulnerable and funny — that if her vaunted caramel cakes and sugar pies are half as good as her prose, well, I'd be open to even giving that signature buttermilk whipped cream she tops her desserts with a try ... robust and salty language ... about the multiple hungers that Donovan has been driven to satisfy in her life — for wonderful food, certainly, but also for love and community and for gratifying work that can support a family. It's not too much to hope for, is it? But as, Donovan chronicles, it can take women a while to muster up the sense of self to know they can do more than just hope.
[The] pernicious tendency for women to be seen as behind-the-scenes nurturers — both of their own immediate families and of the egos of the men with whom they work — while men get hailed as gods of food, is just one of the many injustices that Lisa Donovan addresses with anger, honesty, wit and passion in her debut memoir ... With an impeccable blend of deadpan humor, candor and righteousness, Donovan critiques not only the rampant sexism in haute cuisine, but also the misogyny prevalent in our culture at large, not shying away from depicting her experiences of domestic partner abuse, rape and gender-based pay disparity ... Assertive and empowering...
...the book is written in a fierce and visceral style ... She articulates universal truths while also encouraging readers to think about their own relationships. In a world that all too often credits male chefs for the culinary contributions of women and people of color, this is a valuable addition to the culinary memoir canon.
