Jennifer 8. Lee (yes, 8.), a reporter for the New York Times, has written The Fortune Cookie Chronicles: Adventures in the World of Chinese Food (2008). To give a quick review that would fit in a fortune cookie: Good read, worth the time, flawed in writing.
Lee is the daughter of Chinese immigrants, and her book represents an attempt to describe her relationship to Chinese food, mostly in its American form (for those who don't know, American and Chinese Chinese food are quite different, and Lee deftly delineates the aspects of Chinese food that Americans don't like - nothing with eyes, for example). She tells a number of different stories, some light and comical, others quite serious. Threading among the vignettes is her search for the origin of the fortune cookie.
The book reads for the most part like a series of newspaper articles, assuredly new-wave journalism, as Lee and her friends make appearances throughout. Two of the dramatic centerpieces are an account of illegal Chinese who try to sneak into the country to work in restaurants, and the disintegration of a family that is out of its element when it buys a restaurant in rural Georgia. These stories are well-told and poignant, if not quite the fully-realized character sketches that Lee probably intended.
The other two major serious pieces fare less well. The Kosher Duck Scandal of 1989 never really takes off, and the saga of the missing deliveryman contains some interesting facts, but never becomes personal enough to engage the reader.
The light pieces are better, as they seem to fit Lee's style. Her search for the origin of General Tso's chicken is enchanting, particularly her encounter with its inventor. The chronicle of the development of the American Chinese staple, at least in the years I grew up, chop suey, is a fascinating piece of detective work.
There are problems with this book, and they come mostly from pace and selection. The beginning reads like a blog, not a book, as Lee jumps from topic to topic (lottery numbers, fortune cookies, food, menus) without any creation of context. The longest chapter is her search for the best Chinese restaurant in the world (with qualifications, such as it can't be in a Chinese country). The part that might have been interesting, the logistics and the choices, is lost in quick hits without any consistency across cities, and her final choice is oddly justified - I didn't come away understanding why this restaurant was the best or why I would go there.
Perhaps the most irritating part was the fortune cookie thread. The search for the beginnings of the near-tasteless dessert grows tiresome, and it feels stretched, as if Lee chose her title, then had to write around it. By the end, I didn't care where it originated, I didn't care who wrote the fortunes. Had it been one or two chapters, I could have read it and moved on - but it kept coming back.
What is really odd is that Chapter 15 is the final chapter of the book; you read it and feel that Lee has brought you to a conclusion. She has summarized the book, discussed assimilation and authenticity, and made some general points that, while not remarkably deep, are insightful. The final paragraph puts a nice close to this charming, uneven book.
But wait, we still have three more chapters to go, two of them on those darn fortune cookies, and one nearly-incomprehensible section comparing the spread of Chinese food to open source software development. And now the final paragraph of the book is an attempt to divine the purpose of fortune cookies, and it's banal; you won't believe the last line in terms of what has come before.
I have emphasized the negative, as is my wont in these reviews, but this book is delightful...well, most of it. There are enough anecdotes and facts to provide a reader with a good time, so, go ahead, pull up a container of mapo dofu or gong bao ji ding, and have at it.
Lee is the daughter of Chinese immigrants, and her book represents an attempt to describe her relationship to Chinese food, mostly in its American form (for those who don't know, American and Chinese Chinese food are quite different, and Lee deftly delineates the aspects of Chinese food that Americans don't like - nothing with eyes, for example). She tells a number of different stories, some light and comical, others quite serious. Threading among the vignettes is her search for the origin of the fortune cookie.
The book reads for the most part like a series of newspaper articles, assuredly new-wave journalism, as Lee and her friends make appearances throughout. Two of the dramatic centerpieces are an account of illegal Chinese who try to sneak into the country to work in restaurants, and the disintegration of a family that is out of its element when it buys a restaurant in rural Georgia. These stories are well-told and poignant, if not quite the fully-realized character sketches that Lee probably intended.
The other two major serious pieces fare less well. The Kosher Duck Scandal of 1989 never really takes off, and the saga of the missing deliveryman contains some interesting facts, but never becomes personal enough to engage the reader.
The light pieces are better, as they seem to fit Lee's style. Her search for the origin of General Tso's chicken is enchanting, particularly her encounter with its inventor. The chronicle of the development of the American Chinese staple, at least in the years I grew up, chop suey, is a fascinating piece of detective work.
There are problems with this book, and they come mostly from pace and selection. The beginning reads like a blog, not a book, as Lee jumps from topic to topic (lottery numbers, fortune cookies, food, menus) without any creation of context. The longest chapter is her search for the best Chinese restaurant in the world (with qualifications, such as it can't be in a Chinese country). The part that might have been interesting, the logistics and the choices, is lost in quick hits without any consistency across cities, and her final choice is oddly justified - I didn't come away understanding why this restaurant was the best or why I would go there.
Perhaps the most irritating part was the fortune cookie thread. The search for the beginnings of the near-tasteless dessert grows tiresome, and it feels stretched, as if Lee chose her title, then had to write around it. By the end, I didn't care where it originated, I didn't care who wrote the fortunes. Had it been one or two chapters, I could have read it and moved on - but it kept coming back.
What is really odd is that Chapter 15 is the final chapter of the book; you read it and feel that Lee has brought you to a conclusion. She has summarized the book, discussed assimilation and authenticity, and made some general points that, while not remarkably deep, are insightful. The final paragraph puts a nice close to this charming, uneven book.
But wait, we still have three more chapters to go, two of them on those darn fortune cookies, and one nearly-incomprehensible section comparing the spread of Chinese food to open source software development. And now the final paragraph of the book is an attempt to divine the purpose of fortune cookies, and it's banal; you won't believe the last line in terms of what has come before.
I have emphasized the negative, as is my wont in these reviews, but this book is delightful...well, most of it. There are enough anecdotes and facts to provide a reader with a good time, so, go ahead, pull up a container of mapo dofu or gong bao ji ding, and have at it.
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