Ratings6
Average rating3.2
Born above his grandfather's modest restaurant in Mumbai, Hassan first experienced life through intoxicating whiffs of spicy fish curry, trips to the local markets, and gourmet outings with his mother. But when tragedy pushes the family out of India, they console themselves by eating their way around the world, eventually settling in Lumière, a small village in the French Alps. The boisterous Haji family takes Lumière by storm. They open an inexpensive Indian restaurant opposite an esteemed French relais (that of the famous chef Madame Mallory) and infuse the sleepy town with the spices of India, transforming the lives of its eccentric villagers and infuriating their celebrated neighbor. Only after Madame Mallory wages culinary war with the immigrant family does she finally agree to mentor young Hassan, leading him to Paris, the launch of his own restaurant, and a slew of new adventures.
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Not for me.
It has the feel of a memoir. But as a work of fiction it was sort of puzzling. I kept waiting for Hassan to revisit the Indian cuisine of his youth, to revitalize old fashioned French styles with new flavors. The whole book feels like a lead up to this - from Hassan's apprenticeship to Madam Mallory, to his close friendship with Verdun, the master of traditional French styles. But instead Hassan fully assimilates into French cooking and culture, deciding to cook food simply in their natural juices, whatever that means. (It kind of sounded like spa cooking - steamed vegetables and fish with a sprinkling of herbs?) The book ends with winning a coveted third Michelin star. The award feels empty - we've already seen Mallory driven to grief and rage in search of it, and Verdun to suicide at it's loss. What is the point? For the book to close in celebration of Hassan's restaurant award just felt sad.
Also, the book has some really gross and pointless passages that overshadow the rest of the book, like “Papa was cursed, ever since he was a teenager, with an unattractive rash of blackheads, pimples, and boils across the broad expanse of his hairy back, and while Mummy was alive, the duty of popping the worst offenders fell on her. “Squeeze,” he yelled at Mehtab. “Squeeze.” Pap scrunched his face, Mehtab pinching the boil hard between her painted nails, the two of them yelping in surprise when the offending item suddenly exploded.” This is disturbing and gross.
I'm not sure whether I like the book or the movie more. There were quite a few differences including the last name of the main characters family! I think I would have preferred to read the book first but I didn't realise it was a book when I saw the movie.