Jane Austen’s Burlesque on Loneliness, Redemption and Love

Once upon a time in a little English town, Jane Austen wrote a story about being lonely, never finding the perfect gentleman and how difficult it can be to swallow one’s pride and admit when one has made mistakes. She wrote about falling in love. If you are an avid lover of Jane Austen’s precise prose then you know that this story is universal. Since her story was first published in 1815 many young ladies have endured in her shadow, crafting their own stories of loss and love. I would hate to admit that Mills and Boon and Dame Barbara Cartland fall into this category, but there you go.

Ms Austen set her story in Regency England. She created Emma Woodhouse, a young, beautiful and privileged woman living on the fictionalised estate of Hartfield somewhere in Surrey in the village of Highbury. Her future paramour, George Knightley, lives on the large estate of Donwell close to her home. Mr Knightley, at the turn of the nineteenth century, exemplifies the modern, male lover, madly in love with Miss Emma, but never afraid to criticise her inept endeavours at matchmaking. Well, at least she had a passion for something and was not afraid to restrict herself as a woman in accordance with the times. Certainly, her father, a reclusive hypochondriac, is in no position to detain her.

Ms Austen follows the lead of the bard by creating a comedy of errors. What drew me closer to her protagonist was the vulnerable state of her heart, something which she stubbornly never admits to. Only Mr Knightley can rescue her from such a state. And thankfully Miss Emma Woodhouse never knows this until the novel’s closing pages. Otherwise we wouldn’t have a story, no? Emma is confidently described as a modern romance some one hundred years after the first book was bound. She certainly has the traits of a modern woman, because she is utterly bored in her role as lady of Hartfield Estate.

Famously, Jane Austen said;

“I am going to take a heroine whom no-one but myself will much like.”

Well, she was being modest, wasn’t she? While Emma irritated the innoble male reader from time to time, he grew to like her after all. He could relate to her fears of intimacy in a confined environment. He understood her desire to keep busy with schemes such as match-making to divert attention from the true state of her heart. Unlike her subjects, his attraction is not entirely related to the heart. Perhaps it was money? He learns from Ms Austen that Emma is;

“Handsome, clever and rich. A single woman, with a very narrow income, must be a ridiculous, disagreeable old maid! The proper sport of boys and girls; but a single woman of good fortune, is always respectable, and may be as sensible and pleasant as anybody else.” 

Well, at least she can do as she wishes, but I am no fan of aristocracies and wasn’t at all impressed with the way she kept herself aloof from the locals. Shame, poor lonely little rich girl. On the grounds of Highbury she only has Mr and Miss Bates and Mrs Goddard for company. At least she could lose herself in the lush grounds, thinking of her past, present and future. Her father, Mr Woodhouse, dare I say, is a right old pain in the arse, always nervous and depressed. The fact that he’s old is no excuse. After all, he’s loaded. Or is he? At least he enjoyed his daily walks.

Now, if you thought Emma was a snob, well, you hadn’t met Mrs Wilson yet. But, at least she had noticed that Mr Woodhouse’s moaning and groaning habits were hindering his poor daughter. And the weather, typical English weather you might say, was always gloomy. Here, Ms Austen has, however, created a marvellous metaphor for Emma’s own melancholia. I suspected at one point that the poor girl may even be lesbian, not that there’s anything the matter with it. But we learn that she merely has a homophillic affection for young Miss Harriet Smith. At one point I thought that Emma was smothering the poor child with her superior intellect and high morals, but it was nothing of the sort. I could also relate to Emma’s lack of self-esteem.

During the early twentieth century, the literary critic, Marvin Mudrick, has the audacity to say this about our beloved Emma Woodhouse; that she was an “unlikeable heroine and latent lesbian, incapable of committing herself in normal relationships.” I understand what he was trying to say, but how cruel, because then the literary pratt goes on to say that Emma is an “imaginist, moved to play God without tenderness or caution, making the worst of every situation, imagining evil where there is good and good where there is nothing but an extension of self. Emma, wanting in altruism and sympathy, must have admirers to confirm her position.” What a pretentious toff!

Perhaps Mudrick heard us. He concludes his analogy of Emma’s character;

“We sympathise with Emma because she must fall in love, and we know that she will.”

But then Richard Simpson had this to say about our heroine; she is a “young lady full of preconceived ideas not borrowed from the traditional romance of poets and novelists which are the product of our own reflections upon our mental powers”.

In the end, I may be as forthright as Mudrick and Emma’s future lover and hero, Knightley who did not mince his words when remarking on her;

“She is spoilt, the cleverest in her family, quick, assured and the mistress of her house. In her mother she has lost the only person able to cope with her. She inherits her mother’s talents, and must have been under subjection to her.”

Knightley, who knew Emma’s family intimately, understands Emma’s behaviour which may explain her fear of commitment and her father’s self-centred opposition to marriage. But only in anguish does she support the high sacrament of marriage as she earnestly goes about her business of setting one with the other. While she shuns marriage for herself, she subconsciously yearns to be married, no different from genteel young women of her society with similar aspirations. So, she is not entirely a true libertarian, or latent feminist then.

If you must know, Mr Knightly is the oldest and wisest of Jane Austen’s male mentors. He is serious, strong and even good looking. He speaks with authority and is actually extremely kind. Gosh, could I not be like him. He is a credible and likeable character. He has a sense of humour and is also vulnerable. Another English literary critic, Wayne Booth, describes Knightley as the most morally reliable character in the whole (bloody) novel! That’s saying a lot for the rest of the cast. But, Mr Knightley does bring about Emma’s redemption and rescues her from loneliness within a confining and unstimulating environment. He has the most concern for her welfare;

“I should like to see Emma in love, and in some doubt of a return; it would do her good. But there is nobody hereabouts to attach her; and she goes so seldom from home.” 

Intellectually superior to the characters of Highbury, towering above all and sundry, he is not repressed and restricted as Emma is. He is acutely more observant. Knightly encourages forgiveness of Emma’s mistakes. He brings two lovers, Harriet Smith and the farmer, Robert Martin, together.

“In her carriage with the depressed and silent Harriet Smith Emma felt the tears running down her cheeks almost all the way home, without being at any trouble to check them, extraordinary as they were.”

“Emma is confirmed and checked. Her turning point is reached. She is consciously carried some way toward self-knowledge.” She is redeemed. Hooray! Emma is in love. Lionel Trilling advised that sentimental sexuality is not part of her nature. She chooses her husband wisely, seriously and eagerly. A modern woman indeed. It is dancing that romantically brings Emma and Knightley together. Well, somethings don’t always change, although how do men and woman hitch up these days? Perhaps it is a peculiar coincidence, but I met all three of my last mates on the dance floor. And I can’t dance to save my own life!

Emma remains in love as she ponders Knightley’s proposal of marriage. On a first name basis, their union is sealed. R Simpson observes; “The platonic ideal is realised, not merely through heart, but through intelligence.” Complex in personality and nature, heralded above her peers, Emma willingly acknowledges her errors and graciously opens her heart to Knightley. The dreamed of union with a true, genteel country gentleman is formed. Knightley is above everyone throughout the novel, and Emma’s openness towards him brings his love for her to fruition.

Emma rises above her station and Knightley matches her in conversation, rational or playful. Her circumstances justify her unruly behaviour and she is deserving of her hero. She is deserving of her own status as a heroine. Only Jane Austin could have pulled off such a masterful transformation. We, as readers, are encouraged to revel in her complex creation, even though it is yet another caricature of her own self.

In the truest sense Jane Austen masterfully transforms her anti-heroine into a heroine, encouraging the reader to revel in her complex creation, yet another caricature of her own self. A past lecturer of mine, Michael Williams, asked us to take note of Austen’s version of the flexible medium. But, I don’t think I was alone in this, I was always drawn to Miss Woodhouse and Mr Knightley’s feelings, particularly for each other. Some years before I first read through a full anthology of Jane Austen’s novels, beginning that journey with Pride and Prejudice, I had a favourite song in mind. When I completed my first reading of Emma, George Harrison’s song, although entirely unrelated, reminded me of Emma Woodhouse.

As I closed the book, I rejoiced at this true meeting of minds. In heart, body and soul.

 

Meet Johnny Mutton

Jannie Mouton is the founding CEO of the PSG Group of companies.

His story is not unique to the world of investment banking, entrepreneurship and basically helping yourself. Mouton was fired by the stockbroking company, SMK, about twenty years ago. He was their CEO. The South African financial paper, Moneyweb, christened him as the “Boere Buffett” (Afrikaner Buffett) of South African investing, an analogy which, and Mouton will tell you this, is not apt. While he does glean from Buffett’s investment philosophies, the story is more about how Jannie Mouton founded one of South Africa’s most successful investment companies.

The latest PlexCrown Fund Ratings show that PSG has leaped into second place overall, sandwiched between Coronation and Allan Gray.

Being compared to the world’s most successful investor is one thing. Warren Buffett is world-famous for his resilience and discipline, always studying the fundamentals of what it takes to create a successful enterprise, or empire, if you will. More importantly for the investor, Buffet wants to know whether companies have the potential to become a source of financial growth and profitability over the long-term. Mouton tells us though, that he was more of a risk-taker, and, boy, did he burn his fingers over the years. To me, Jannie Mouton is better known for applying the Buffet principles of investing to two of his most cherished creations, Capitec Bank and the lesser  known Curro, now a serious contender to Advtech.

Capitec Bank started life as the proverbial money lender before the 2008 prime lending crash. Today, unsecured lending is still frowned upon, particularly after the collapse of African Bank. But Capitec Bank, as Mouton points out, is more than that. It is a full-fledged bank, relying more on daily transactions than loan repayments for part of its capital outlay. It is the fastest growing bank on the African continent.

The other Mouton success story is Curro Holdings. It began life as a small, private school started by Chris van der Merwe, a visionary school teacher and entrepreneur. Mouton recognised these inherent qualities at an early stage and decided to underwrite this school’s growth. Today, it is still growing, its share price is affordable and its price to earnings ratio is healthy. Apart from taking a leaf out of Buffett’s book on how to make the right purchases, this product is principled. Today, hundreds of South African school children who may not have been able to benefit from private tuition in the past are reaping the benefits of a high standard of education. The Curro group, I believe, has a staff compliment of dedicated (and well-paid) teaching professionals.

I was initially attracted to the title of Jannie Mouton‘s modest-looking and unpretentious biography. Like Mouton, I was fired. Like, Mouton, I did my job rather well. Like Mouton, I believe that creativity, rather than the archaic mission, vision and values statements, is far more important and effective. While PSG continues to grow, SMK and SA Eagle Insurance Co. no longer exist. Around the time that I walked through the exit doors of another declining insurance giant for the last time, I had been searching for inspiration and motivation to help kick-start my new career. Unfortunately, owing to personal distractions and a huge dose of negativity, I only grabbed Mouton’s book a few weeks ago.

In the book’s earlier pages, the groundwork to Mouton’s success is expounded upon rather modestly for a man of Mouton’s brash and straight-talking personality. Some who have worked for, rather than with him, explain that he can be intimidating at the worst of times. But, truth be told, Jannie Mouton is a humble man. Thanks to his ghost-writer, Carie Maas, his prose is engaging. Mouton outlines his lust for the stock market alongside that of his early family life, living in the Little Karoo. Like, Buffett, Mouton’s father was a cautious investor. Not so, Mouton. He was ambitious and bloody-minded when following his father’s philosophy of sheer hard work.

Briefly, Mouton also talks about personal loss. More emphasis is placed on the Mouton family values. Naturally, he is nostalgic in his praise of his children and their own success. If he pats himself on the back, it is to tell us how he managed to entice the Mouton siblings into working full-time for his favourite child, the PSG Group of Companies.

PSG is his family. While Jannie explains in more than enough narrative detail (Jannie Mouton: And then they fired me is merely 250 pages or so, long), he does not omit mentioning his investment failures and errors of judgement.

More importantly, he explains to his readers the importance of staying positive. There are noteworthy tips on how to become your own boss.

Jannie Mouton: And then they fired me was first published by Tafelberg, an imprint of NB Publishers, in 2011.

Like Water for Chocolate

Earlier this year I was asked to do a review of Mexican writer Laura Esquivel’s Like Water for Chocolate. I was also drawn to the British cooking celebrity Nigella Lawson’s statement that “cooking is actually quite aggressive and controlling and sometimes, yes, there is an element of force-feeding going on.” I found this statement somewhat intriguing in light of the sordid and tragic revelations made about Ms Lawson in British tabloids. Was it earlier last year? Anyway, this review was never going to be easy, because, after all, what do I know about cooking. Or magic realism? You see, I’m no admirer of one of the proponents of this now-familiar literary device, and, yes, I have not read beyond Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude, Chronicle of a Death Foretold, Love in the Time of Cholera and Memories of My Melancholy Whores.

I remain in love with Chilean-born Isabel Allende, however, having been drawn into the romantic and inspiring universes that she created by drawing resolutely on South American history and landscapes. Feeding the imagination, it was all food for the soul. I covered works such as Daughter of Fortune, City of the Beasts and her autobiographical works; Paula, My Invented Country and, yes, even,  Aphrodite. You see, I had become drawn to Ms Isabel mainly because of her direct relationship with the former Chilean President who was slain by the dictator who followed him, Generalissimo Augusto Pinochet. Yes, I said it. Slain. Anyway, while Allende has written widely about the country of her birth, the Nobel Laureate, Marquez, wrote mostly about his home country, Columbia.

I’ve barely covered the surface of both literary giants, so someday soon, I hope to return to them. Perhaps too, to Laura Esquivel, who writes mostly about her country, Mexico. And she combines the culinary arts of cooking with elements of romance, love, culture and history to create a rich, imaginary world which is not always easy to comprehend. Originally written and published in 1989, Like Water for Chocolate was published in 1993 by Doubleday and tells the story of Tita De la Garza, Nacha, Chencha, Mama Elena, Rosaura and Pedro Musquiz. This story’s narrative on the roles of both cooking and eating is significant when comparing it to the political and cultural events of early twentieth century Mexico.

Beginning with the book’s title, we learn that Like Water for Chocolate refers to Tita’s temperament when she is antagonised by her peers, particularly, Rosaura, her older sister, Pedro, her lover, and Elena, her mother. I compared Nigella Lawson’s recently publicised life with that of Tita. Both celebrity and character are oppressed and abused. Lawson by her estranged husband, Tita by her strange mother.

I have fond memories of Nigella Lawson‘s sexy, full figure in her BBC Food kitchen. I say this in the nicest possible way, because, whew, I think she is hot. Talk about the way to a man’s heart. Elsewhere, Lawson has been described as a “celebrity domestic goddess.” And the beauty of the woman in her kitchen is not lost on Pedro either. He revels in Tita’s mysterious and maternal prowess while she feeds his son. He cannot take his eyes off her physical beauty. He is reminded of the Greek Goddess, Ceres, and the “the goddess of plenty.” After his first mouthful of the sensuous dish, Quail in Rose Petal Sauce, he remarks that “it’s a dish for the gods!” Spirituality and metaphysical powers are alluded to when describing the talents of the chef and the dishes that she lays before her guests.

This visual interpretations were not lost on the director and producers of the film version of Like Water for Chocolate either. You have to see it to believe what I am saying. Of course, Esquivel had a hand in the scripting of this delectable movie. Returning to Lawson’s earlier statement, I see that this statement includes adverbs of aggression and control. Then there is the verb of force-feeding. It highlights the control that the chef and her assistants as artists and manufacturers can have over us as consumers. In Like Water for Chocolate, Tita’s recipes are closely aligned with the story narrative, showing how each traditional recipe introduces a chain of events which have a direct influence on characters’ lives, particularly that of Tita.

Responding to Pedro’s proposal of marriage to Tita, her mother relies on a dubious aspect of rural Mexican culture to reject the proposal and excuse her abuse of Tita by declaring “You know perfectly well that being the youngest daughter means you have to take care of me until the day I die.”

The story’s context, cultural, colonial and historical background is important in understanding this abuse. In the early twentieth century, Mexican culture is dominated by patriarchy which is inherited from indigenous cultures and Spanish colonialism. Tita’s mother is aware of this when she remarks that “Men aren’t that important in this life.” Mama Elena’s fiery character influences the rebels who attempt to invade her ranch. They are instilled with “a childlike fear of maternal authority” which challenges patriarchy and hints at the future  liberation of the female characters. Elena and her daughter, Rosaura are not liberated, because they are not ready for transformation.

Contrastingly, Tita’s sister, Getrudis, is influenced by the Mexican revolution. “Political instability” keeps Mama Elena and her daughters isolated on the De la Garza family ranch. The revolution that Getrudis joins as a result of Tita’s cooking and emotional turmoil acts as a metaphor of their emancipation and empowerment as women. Because of their mother’s resistance towards transformation, she dies a bitter woman. Over and above Tita’s mysterious emotions and culinary powers, her internal exorcism of her mother’s ghost begins Tita’s journey towards freedom and love.

In the context of Esquivel’s novel, women’s rights are not yet fully recognised and institutionalised. In spite of Tita’s mother, men still have the last say when it comes to deciding family or cultural matters. Tita is aware of this when she exclaims to her kitchen friend, Chencha, “you know how men are” after Chencha suffers depression as a result of being raped by bandits.

Like Water for Chocolate is structured as a series of recipes over a period of twelve months during which time the influence of cooking and serving dishes to family members and guests on Tita’s life is shown. We see how cooking helps Tita manage her depression. The narrative stretches from Tita’s kitchen birth to her mysterious death. The narrative of each chapter begins as a recipe with instructions. From these instructions, the narrative evolves into a chronological account of Tita’s life, showing how food influences and affects her.

The first chapter introduces the story’s main characters during the first month of the year, January. The narrative begins with a traditional Mexican recipe and its preparation. Familiar ingredients include sardines, chorizo sausage and chilli. A crucial ingredient of Christmas rolls is the onion. The process of chopping onions finely induces tears.  Tita’s sensitivity towards onions and her affinity to shed tears easily is repeated later in the story during the preparation of “Champandongo” which also highlights the “peacefulness” in the kitchen that is crucial in helping the protagonist manage her depression.

Onions, an essential ingredient in most dishes, serve as a metaphor to foreground Tita’s sorrow as a result of her mother’s repressive behaviour towards her. The chapter ends when Tita weeps throughout the night while working on a bedspread, contemplating her dilemma in dealing with Pedro’s amorous advances. The ferocity of Tita’s tears enforces the seriousness of her emotional turmoil. The preparation and making of Christmas rolls is in honour of Tita’s sixteenth birthday.

Magic realism is used to show how Tita’s mysterious powers and her talent for cooking impacts the lives of her extended family. Tita’s sorrowful shedding of tears into the icing mixture of Rosaura’s wedding cake causes the wedding guests to experience similar symptoms of longing and sorrow.

The impact on Rosaura is telling. Her physical condition worsens throughout the narrative. Before her marriage to Pedro, Rosaura, who does not enjoy the same voracious appetite for eating as Tita experiences acute feelings of nausea. Such feelings alongside her husband’s secret longing for Tita, affects her physically and emotionally. This emotional event is preceded by the practical process of energetic manual egg-beating which has “a bad effect on Tita’s mood” and leads her to start trembling. Such sorrowful influences are contrasted with the story’s joyful ending when Tita’s niece, Esperanza, marries Doctor John Brown’s son, Alex, and Tita’s loving bond with Pedro. The consumption of strong chillies, a familiar sexual aphrodisiac, in walnut sauce leads the guests to experience feelings of love and lust.

The month of May (chapter five) is introduced with another traditional recipe, Northern-style Chorizo (sausage) which includes the staple ingredient of pork and a crucial and dramatic alteration to Tita’s life. After revolutionary soldiers leave Mama Elena’s ranch, Tita becomes deranged as a result of her mother’s ongoing cruelty towards her. The intricate process of preparing the pork sausage cannot disengage Tita from her repressive feelings.

The following month of June begins Tita’s transformation. Tita is taken away by the American doctor, John, to be lovingly nursed back to health. Instead of a cooking recipe, the chapter is introduced with a recipe for making matches. During the course of Tita’s rehabilitation by John I had thought of the preparation of a soup dish, particularly chicken soup, known to be good for the soul. But, the month of July begins with a recipe for Oxtail soup which is no less edifying. The narrative states; “Soups can cure any illness.”  The passage that follows this statement reinforces the important influence that food and cooking has for the story’s main character. The successful preparation and enjoyment of dishes helps Tita to remember events from her past. In this case, the healing properties of oxtail soup lead Tita to remember Nacha’s soothing guidance and care. But not all memories are joyful. Chencha raises her own internal concerns for her young mistress while she recuperates under the care of Doctor Brown. It is Chencha, however, who prepares and brings Tita the oxtail soup.

The essence and benefits of healing that soup brings to the human body and soul does not extend to Mama Elena after she is also served oxtail soup, this time prepared by Tita, after her ordeal at the hands of bandits who raid her ranch. Elena is physically crippled as a result. Mistrustful of her daughter, consumed with bitterness from her past and consuming a dangerous emetic, Elena slowly deteriorates towards her inevitable death.

The loving bond between Doctor John Brown starts earlier in the narrative and is indicative of important similarities between the protagonist and doctor. John falls in love with Tita after being summoned to attend to her sister’s difficult labour. When Tita is nursed back to health she learns about John’s Indian grandmother, Morning Light, who is also alienated from the rest of the family because of her unique gifts of traditional healing which can be compared to the benefits that cooking brings. John shares one of Morning Light’s philosophical beliefs. The allusion to matches, and not food, is a precursor to the story’s fiery ending. John tells Tita that “everyone is born with a box of matches inside them”. It reflects the human capacity for love. The nourishing properties of fire are good for the human soul and ultimately consumes it. Fire is compared with food. Comparing his grandmother with Tita, John describes her as a quiet woman who is always near her stove.

Tita’s vow of silence during her rehabilitation is misunderstood by Brown, but is important because it represents her “first step towards freedom.” Before Tita’s dementia, rehabilitation and empowering transformation, her sister, Gertrudis, is kidnapped by a lustful revolutionary soldier who sees her naked while showering and vainly trying to get rid of an amorous sensation of sweating which causes her body to heat up. The recipe for preparing “quail in rose petal sauce”, linking the food metaphor with sensuousness and sexuality, and Tita’s inventiveness, rather than perceived mystical powers, while preparing the quail and improvising the dish with the bloodied rose petals (as a result of her depression), has a profound effect on Getrudis who is unable to stem an unknown tide of sexual feelings. The virginal Gertrudis is not able to understand or interpret these sensations.

While the recipe does not mention this, red rose petals are required for the dish. The roses given to Tita by Pedro are pink, but turn blood red after she mistakenly clasps them tightly to her body and allows the roses’ thorns to pierce her. Alongside Tita’s inventiveness in preparing Quail in Rose Petal Sauce, she unknowingly infuses the sauce with her own blood;

“Tita’s blood and the roses from Pedro proved quite an explosive combination.”

While Getrudis deals with these strange sensations of sexuality, the narrator suggests that she is afflicted by a “strange alchemical process.”  This suggestion is taken further. “A new system of communication” has been created with Tita acting as the sender, Pedro the receiver, and Getrudis the victim, rather than the medium. Getrudis’ encounter is also a starter to Tita’s emancipation from her mother. The previously innocent Gertrudis is incarcerated in a town brothel, becoming sexually promiscuous and experienced before experiencing liberation as a woman and leaving the town to become a leading revolutionary.

The events beginning with the cooking of quails and ending with Getrudis’ dramatic departure from the De la Garza ranch to join (and lead) the Mexican revolution lead to another significant event. The narrator’s common bond with her great-aunt is not only emotional and culinary, but literary. Getrudis’ emancipation inspires Tita to begin writing her own recipe book and begin a process of preserving the De la Garza family traditions and history. This passage highlights the importance of the positive influence that food can have over its artistic creators and conflicting consumers.  Relying on imagery, Tita begins her journal;

“Today while we were eating this dish, Getrudis ran away”

The literary journey does not begin with Tita. Later in the narrative, Getrudis writes a letter to her sister, describing the “fire” that she feels inside her and the journey towards her own emancipation. After her mother’s death, Tita discovers the secret to her bitterness and abuse of her daughter which is revealed in a hidden diary and series of letters detailing her mother’s own abuse as a result of an interracial love affair.

While the preparation and serving of Quail in Rose Petal Sauce culminates in an extraordinary sensual culinary experience, the preparation of Turkey Mole with Almonds and Sesame Seeds is inspired by the maternal love that Tita experiences after feeding her nephew and the joy of his impending baptism. Such feelings of tenderness are extended to the animals sacrificed to be merged into the ingredients of dishes. By way of example, the meticulous process of feeding turkeys prior to their slaughter is aptly described. In the event, everyone enjoys Tita’s Turkey Mole. It leads to euphoric feelings. The narrative exposes the secret of Tita’s excellence as a cook. “Her secret was to prepare the mole with a lot of love.” But we have also seen how dishes, infused with the literary device of magic realism, impact on characters negatively when Tita’s emotions are conflicted by the unhappy events in her life.

Clearly, cooking does have an influence on our lives, whether we are doing the cooking, or eating from the dishes. If you don’t believe me, open up any good recipe book for inspiration. I particularly like Mexican food, but would like to try out the recipes laid out in Esquival’s delicious Like Water for Chocolate. Time and finance permitting, let’s also try Nigella Lawson’s recipes, particularly the one’s related to her Italian heritage. Those who know me, know that I’m a glutton for traditional pasta dishes.

Now, I’m hungry. For food. For love. For you.

Bon apetit.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Gloves are well and truly Off

Watch this space…