Calvin Trillin
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By: Farrar, Straus and Giroux
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Customer Reviews:
Total reviews: 13
Average rating: 4.5 of 5
Fats Goldberg lives! 5 out of 5 stars.
4 of 5 people found this review helpful.
I seriously doubt when Calvin Trillin was knocking out this purple prose back in the early `70s that he ever considered himself a "food writer." I expect no one at the time save the M.F.K. Fishers and Elizabeth Davids of the world even considered that label for themselves. Besides, Mr. Trillin was--indeed, still is--funnier than hell about his gastronomical habits and so was likely slotted under "Humor" in disco-era bookshops--a fate, I'm sure, worse than literary death. I mention all this as a eulogy to how far we've come, category-wise; Mr. Trillin is indeed a food writer and a great one to boot. And even though he's been at this over thirty years his essential approach--*bon vivant* foodie, not frustrated chef or that hideous modern invention, "food critic"-- remains unique.
So how is it that someone scribbling about *eating* (not, mind you, *cooking*) can have me laughing out loud? And wouldn't a self-confessed "big eater" feel at least some desire to whip up what he puts away? Part of the answer lies in that essential dichotomy: Trillin seems vaguely aware that writing about consumption is ridiculous, but he lets us in on the game and, like any good comedian, takes his craft *very* seriously. Most of the stories in these three hilarious volumes have long been published elsewhere but taken together (they can easily be consumed in any order) they betray a level of culinary detail that I doubt any European 3-star Michelin grader could approach.
From the first pages a wonderful informality reigns; Trillin seems to write like I'd imagine he speaks, which in this context is near-perfect. Being invited to the kind of BBQ joints, Chinese restaurants, and fried chicken houses that he describes *demands* this kind of chatter and rather than rambling, the author's language almost seems made for his venues. (Starting with "the best restaurants in the world are, of course, in Kansas City. Not all of them; only the top four or five.") The folksiness not only serves the purpose; when it comes to food, Trillin makes it clear: it *is* the purpose.
Another delightful device is familiarized repetition: bringing back an issue (the paralyzing fear that unreadable Chinese on menus hides unimaginable gastronomic delights, for example) from a previous story helps us identify with Trillin's angst--but also betrays his quiet confidence that we *read* the previous part and know its importance. Bringing whole characters (e.g., Fats Goldberg, the pizza baron) back into the mix regularly is even more fun.
To be sure, after nearly four hundred pages the author has a few overlaps (at least a few titles start with "Confessions of ..."), but they're minor compared to his comic genius. Reading `The Tummy Trilogy' was delicious from start to finish and the only dated portions--best exemplified by continual slams against "continental cuisine" (exemplified by `La Maison de la Casa House')--still rang somewhat true, even playing to a thinly-disguised inverse snobbery.
My only regret after this satisfying meal was not getting a better picture of the author himself, despite his occasional family references. Perhaps that's not all bad; I doubt Mr. Trillin and I would get along. From his recent writing, he appears to be indulging in political fever-swamping (especially against Mr. Bush) which is a tragic waste of talent. While he admits his days as a "sausage-eating crank" may be behind him, I can only fervently wish otherwise.
Editorial Review:
In the 1970s, Calvin Trillin informed America that its most glorious food was not to be found at the pretentious restaurants he referred to generically as La Maison de la Casa House, Continental Cuisine. With three hilarious books over the next two decades—American Fried; Alice, Let’s Eat; and Third Helpings—he established himself as, in Craig Claiborne’s phrase, “the Walt Whitman of American eats.” Trillin’s three comic masterpieces are now available in what Trillin calls The Tummy Trilogy.
