In Her Kitchen by Gabriele Galimberti

Synopsis From Dust Jacket:

On the eve of a photography trip around the world, Gabriele Galimberti sat down to dinner with his grandmother Marisa.  As she had done so many times before, she prepared his favorite ravioli - a gesture of love and an expression of the traditions by which he had come to know her as a child.  The care with which she prepared this meal, and the evident pride she took in her dish, led Gabriele to seek out grandmothers and their signature dishes in the sixty countries he visited.  The kitchens he photographed illustrate both the diversity of world cuisine and the universal nature of a dish served up with generosity and love.  At each woman's table, Gabriele became a curious and hungry grandson, exploring new ingredients and gathering stories.  These vibrant and intimate profiles and photographs pay homage to grandmothers and their cooking everywhere.  From a Swedish housewife and her homemade lox and vegetables to a Zambian villager and her Roasted Spiced Chicken, this collection features a global palate: included are hand-stuffed empanadas from Argentina, twice-fried pork and vegetables from China, slow-roasted ratatouille from France, and a decadent toffee trifle from the United States.  Taken together or bite by bite, In Her Kitchen taps into our collective affection for these cherished family members and the ways they return that affection.

I have an obsessive need to collect cook books, the more varied they are, the better. And when the break the normal mode, go beyond the role of a normal cookbook, I love them even more.  In Her Kitchen mixes food, family history, and gorgeous photography.

When I first cracked open the cover, like I do with every other cookbook I get, I read it cover to cover.  I took in the small little snippets of these grandmother's lives, and I enjoyed reading the love behind the food.   The pictures are stunning, simple in their construction, they are impactful and profound.

Of the food itself, I would love about half of it, be willing to try quite a bit more, and I would run away from one or two of them as fast as my feet would carry me.  I'm intrigued by the Tuscan wild boar stew from Italy.  I know I would love the Khinkali, a pork and beef dumpling from Georgia.  The Spanako-Tiropita, a spinach and cheese pie from Greece looks down right yummy.   Golabki z Ryzem i Miesem, a cabbage with rice and meat roll from Poland is a dish that I'm used to, but this one is a bit different.

I'm not sure I would love the Honduran iguana, but if I didn't know what it was, I may be willing to try it.  The one dish, even I would not be willing to try, is Finkubala.  It's a dish from Malawi, it's a pretty simple one actually, only 5 ingredients.  The problem for me is that the main ingredient is 4 1/2 pounds of dried caterpillars.  Actually they are more like maggots.  They are sauteed with onion and tomatoes, and the picture is enough to have me running for the hills.

I'm really looking forward to try a few of these out, when I do, I promise that pictures will be forthcoming.

I received this book for free from Blogging for Books, for this review.

Believing Is Seeing by Errol Morris

Part Of Synopsis From Dust Jacket:

In Believing Is Seeing, Academy Award-winning director Errol Morris turns his eye to the nature of truth in photography.  In his inimitable style, Morris untangles the mysteries behind an eclectic range of documentary photographs, from the ambrotype of three children found clasped in the hands of an unknown soldier at Gettysburg to the indelible portraits of the WPA photography project.  Each essay in the book presents the reader with a conundrum, and investigates the relationship between photographs and the real world they supposedly record.  

It's rare that I can read a book of essays and not find one of them boring. In an ordinary collection, at least one will be about something Ihave absolutely dull and am forced to either finish reading it, or miss out on something I could learn from.  Thankfully with Believing Is Seeing, documentary film maker, Errol Morris, has managed to write 4 lively and interesting essays into an aspect of photography I've never really thought about before.

In these essays he examines the nature and history of documentary photography and the way it can be used to not only create a memorable image, but to create a flas image and a false reaction in the viewer as well.  Through an exhausting amount of time researching and interviewing, he takes on the enormous taks of not only looking at why a particular picture is taken, but how it was taken.  He delves into the minutae of whether or not a picture was staged and if it was, how it was achieved.  Thankfully, he doesn't stop his examination there.  He also chose to investigate the motivations behind and the fallout after the fact.  Does it really matter if a cow skull is moved around if it get the same point across?  Does a picture have to be staged to create a false impression?  Does the way a photographer frames and edits alter the image itself?

In "Abu Ghraib Essays (Photographs Reveal And Conceal)" he examines two photographs that I think we would all recognize.  The first is of a hooded man standing on a box, hooked up to what appears to be wires.  The man is being tortured and it's hard not to have an initial reaction to it.  What I did not know before reading this book was that the man has been positively identified, but also had a different man claiming to be him.  Morris examines the backround of the story and hwo the fact a man falesly came forward changed the dynamic of hte story and the photograph itself.  Does this false claim make the horrow of any less impactful?  Does he hurt the cause of justice for the other victims of Abu Ghraib?  Does the fact that he may have truly believed he was the man in the picture, matter at all?

The second photograph examined in this essay is the infamous one of MP Sabrina Harman posing with a dead prisoner, giving the thumbs up sign.  When I first saw the photograph, I was appalled by the image.  In my gut, I was horrified and embarrased that a fellow American, a soldier, was appearing to be so callous in the face of a horrific death.  I'm grateful that Morris chose this photograph to delve into.  He not only examined the motivations of Sabrina Harman, but he looked into the backstory of the events that lead up to the photograph.  I still have a visceral reaction when I look at the picture, but I'm no longer judging the young soldier pictured in it.  If this essay taught me anything, I learned that without knowing the context of a picture, there is no way to get the whole story.

I would like to thank Trish of TLC Book Tours for the opportunity to read/review this book.  Please visit the  tour page for additional reviews.