We are always interested in trying new foods when we travel, and so in the interest of learning more about a country I’ve never visited, I checked out this cookbook from the library.

The book is full of recipes as you would expect, but it also gives recommendations for markets, restaurants and street food to try while in Israel. There is quite a bit of culture and contemporary context to go with the recipes, which makes for a book that is somewhere between a cookbook and a travel guide.

And of course, that makes me want to go visit Israel soon.

As for the recipes, they use many of the spices that we already keep around for our Indian and SE Asian dishes. It was nice to try out some recipes without having to go out and buy some unusual spice or ingredients. The dishes we’ve tried so far from this book are not subtle when it comes to flavor, and I think that fits our weekend style. Israel sits at the crossroads of many different cuisines in the Mediterranean and Middle East, so the recipes here really hit the spot for warm weather eating. Last week I made a batch of harissa from the recipe in the book and we’ve been using it (with a dollop of yogurt) as a dressing for our weeknight cabbage salads.

This weekend I’ll try a couple more recipes and see how they turn out, but so far I’m really impressed with this book. I can’t really find any points to criticize here. The politics of the area seem like it would make it difficult to write a book about “Israeli food”, seeing as it is a product of assimilation from other food cultures, but the writers deftly provide a glimpse into a vibrant and delicious place that I’d like to visit someday soon.

This was one of the few cookbooks I went ahead and bought after returning it to the library. I think I’ll be referring back to it often.

Next is a short novel by Stephen King, called “Later”.

After finishing this book I realized that this is the second book I’ve read by the author. The first one, Beartown, was one I had read a long time ago and to be honest it didn’t make a big impression on me. Anxious People was a book that did make an impression – I really liked it.

For this book I think the less I say about it here the better, but I will say that the book is extremely well-written with a plot that was clever enough to keep you guessing. I think a book like this would be a challenge to write: finding the ideal balance of whimsy, reality, heartbreak and love to satisfy both the characters and the reader. I wasn’t surprised to see there were many people the author thanked for their support in his writing at the end.

Excellent book – it seems like it would be hard to replicate the feat that the author pulled off here.

Next is Shuk, by Einat Admony and Janna Gur. Time to learn a little more about how they eat in Israel.

I’ve got a soft spot for books that describe people walking away from everything they know and starting fresh in another place. In this case, the author and her husband move from London to Denmark when he accepts a job at the LEGO headquarters in the countryside.

The book describes getting settled in a new country a little bit, but really is focused on figuring out what makes Danish people so happy. It is writing in style full of dry wit, and I ended up laughing out loud several times while reading, which is always a good sign. That said, I did feel like sometimes the writer took the joking a little too far – enough that occasionally I wasn’t sure if something really happened or if it was a sarcastic side note.

Examining her own happiness, the author compares her experiences in the UK and typical experiences in America with how things happen in Denmark. She uses a lot of statistics (maybe too many) to analyze happiness, However I’m not sure statistics are the best way to measure some as intangible as ‘happiness’. Still, it is interesting to see the differences between cultures illustrated in such a funny way.

I learned a lot about Danish society, and the book brought back a lot of memories of when I first moved to Japan. Like the author, I thought I’d only be around for a year and it ended up lasting much longer than that.

One interesting thing was that my copy of the book was an updated electronic edition from the library, and the author included an epilogue of sorts – explaining how things had changed in the 6-7 years since she wrote the original book. This epilogue included some big contemporary topics like the anti-immigration movements in Denmark and elsewhere, the Black Lives Matter movement and even the onset of COVID-19. I was especially impressed that she spent time talking about the incredible privilege she enjoyed while being white and blending into the homogeneous (white) culture of rural Denmark, and how much easier it was for them to fit in. These kinds of epilogues are rare in paper books, so it showed an advantage to ebooks that I hadn’t really considered before.

So it was a very funny and entertaining book – and I really enjoyed reading it during these days of non-travel. Next I’m reading Anxious People by Fredrick Backman.

This was a sci-fi book written about another world where just about every dispute is settled with fists and brute force – in a circle, mano a mano.

What I look for in a good science fiction book is deep world building, gritty characters, and some kind of subtle message running through it as a deep undercurrent. This book started with promise and described a very compelling world. Most of the beginning occurs on a mysterious island and inside deep caves that house an underclass of people who are struggling to get by. The culture of combat is deeply seated in this society, and this book gets right to it.

Unfortunately, things got worse from there. The narrative really hits you over the head with issues of inequality and honor, classism and work ethic. The characters are mostly black and white – either with a heart of gold or one-dimensionally evil. Unfortunately I managed to sniff out what the climax of the book would be while reading the first few chapters.

Most of the writing centers around martial arts, and the writer is obviously very well versed in this. I think people (especially young people) that are interested in mixed martial arts or similar sports would get more out of this book than I did.

What really threw me off was a sudden switch in the middle of the book to a sort of Harry Potter situation – just change Hogwarts to the Citadel and the sorting hat to the Trials. It didn’t seem original (one of the leaders of the Citadel was cribbed right out of Game of Thrones), and if there is one thing I hope to get out of science fiction is a new way of thinking about things.

So maybe my expectations were too high, but this book didn’t really do it for me. I don’t think I’ll bother moving on to the next book in the series.

Switching back to non-fiction, I’ve started to read The Year of Living Danishly by Helen Russell.

This was a refreshingly simple and well-designed cookbook. Written by a French woman who cooks in America these days, the book takes a seasonal approach to dishes. She introduces common fruits and vegetables available in each season, and then outlines both traditional French and her own recipes.

The recipes themselves are quite simple, and I think that aligns with my own thoughts on cooking – I want a dish based on tomatoes to taste like tomatoes – I’m not much for deconstructions and molecular gastronomy. Save that for the Michelin guide and let me play with the pure, delicious veggies.

I saved quite a few recipes from this book, including a chickpea flour based tart base infused with cumin, how to simply cook French green lentils, making pebronata, a curried leek tart, and the use of rolled barley in savory dishes.

I didn’t have much to criticize in this book – maybe a few more pictures of the dishes (or steps in the recipe)? This was a refreshing, pleasant read and it didn’t take itself too seriously – just what I needed!

Next I’ll read Combat Codes by Alexander Darwin. Nothing like a little science fiction bareknuckle brawling to shake things up!

Here’s my first really bad book in quite a long time! This book was recommended online as a funny look at someone who really hates their job. Going on only that brief snippet of information I checked this book out of the library, and unfortunately I was left disappointed.

I’m not sure if I really got the point of this novel. The main character is an over-educated self-centered whiny guy who seems to take no responsibility in his life. He spends more energy avoiding said responsibility and work than he would use by actually working. If this character is meant to symbolize someone or some generation it is beyond my skill to identify it. Other characters get written in a overly simple way and there is nobody likable (to me) in the whole book. I’m not sure if the story is supposed to be funny – there are lots of slapstick moments and timely coincidences but I felt like I was missing the funny parts. Especially I felt that the portions of the book written from ethnic minority points of view were written in a way that was meant to imitate their accents, and this came off as uncomfortable to read.

The writer is undoubtably clever and some of the references were well placed, but the whole effort felt like a poor reimagination of Don Quixote, or maybe a Jerry Lewis skit that goes on too long.

So this was definitely not my cup of tea, moving on! Next is The French Market Cookbook – a book about cooking vegetables which caught my eye.

I just finished reading this book on noise in human judgement, and I think it’ll take a while to process. This book does an excellent job of introducing the concepts of noise (versus bias) and illustrates how and why it causes problems for organizations and individuals.

As in Kahneman’s previous book Thinking Fast and Slow the writing style is very accessible and avoids being too technical in order to get across the concepts to the widest possible audience. Without much academic jargon we can pick up the concepts quickly, and I really like the wealth of real world examples.

The value in this book for me was in the business examples, the refresher on statistical analysis (it has been a while!), and the section discussing “super forecasters” and the differences in the ways that they think that make for more accurate decisions. It was good to hear that the skills they have can be learned by others.

Other topics that I was intrigued by was the concept of the use of formulas and algorithms to eliminate noise in decisions, and the surprising relatively high amount of accuracy in them compared to making our own “intuitive” decisions. I also liked the idea of getting free of our “default way of thinking” and using “outside cases” to consider deeply the decision to be made.

Hopefully I can use some of these concepts in the future as part of work and judgements elsewhere – the authors did a very good job of explaining how even though the reduction of noise is not as glamorous as reducing bias, it is an equally important goal.

The next book I’ll be reading is A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole.

One of the must-read reference books for cooks and foodies is Harold McGee’s On Food and Cooking. He loves the science of food and how things change during cooking to become more delicious and this love shows in his writing style. Since I enjoyed that book so much I picked up his latest book, Nose Dive.

As you might expect from the title, it is all about the aromas that we smell, but rather than limiting it to just the world of food, he goes all the way back to the beginning of the universe and then takes us through the mineral, plant and animal kingdoms to find out just what is creating all those smells we notice every day.

This book clearly took a lot of effort to write and the author enjoys describing the chemical pathways to each volatile substance. As he says in the book, it is better to treat the material as a reference although you could read straight through. I read through the first half completely, and then started picking and choosing the topics (and foods) that I was interested in during the second half.

For the most part the author writes in a very accessible and almost whimsical way – talking about the romance of the forest and volatile esters in the same breath. It was great to see him write about the topic with such enthusiasm, and that tended to help the reader through some of the more technical descriptions.

I really enjoyed this book for the most part, but if I had to point to something I didn’t like, I would say it was the question of what we should do now with the information that he has imparted. Now that I know the chemical name for the aromas of green leaf volatiles (hexenyl acetate) what do I do with that information? How do I use this to improve my cooking or get better at detecting it in the environment around me. Other than saying, “I detect notes of hexenyl acetate…” while sniffing my sauvignon blanc I think there are few chances outside a laboratory to use this knowledge. However at least understanding the chemical pathways that result in these aromas may be helpful in the future.

I’d really recommend this book on the shelf in a winemaker’s office or laboratory – it would have been handy while blending and assessing wines back when I worked in the industry. But for the current me this was an interesting reference book but not exactly casual reading material.

Next I’m reading Noise by Daniel Kahneman to look at how terrible my subjective judgements really are.

Now this was an interesting book to read! Krakauer writes in his usual clear journalistic style about a brutal killing of a young woman and her baby in 1984 by a couple of fundamentalist Mormons. The book not only explains the events leading to the killing and the aftermath, but also follows the thread from the killers’ fundamental religious beliefs all the way back to the start of Mormonism by Joseph Smith in the 1820s.

The journalistic tone of Krakauer’s writing is especially appreciated as he describes the beliefs and history of the Mormon church and the various branches and divisions. I was struck by the history of violence and the degradation of women and racial minorities that were at the root of early Mormonism.

The book describes the story of how Joseph Smith started to get messages from God, digging up mysterious gold plates and using glow in the dark rocks to translate Egyptian hieroglyphics. Most of these stories and messages seemed more than a little self-serving for the young prophet. The stories seemed childish to me reading in 2021, and I felt like it would be hard for rational people (even 200 years ago) to accept this stuff as real – but the author points out that looking at just about any religion’s holy books you’d feel the same way. I wholeheartedly agree – that’s why I tend to avoid all religions.

One key element in this book is the Mormon idea of “plural marriages” – or polygamy. Men are seen as the heads of families (and men alone) and women are collected as belongings (sort of like cattle). Some of the key figures in Mormon history were marrying multiple women, sleeping with their own children, and not exactly setting good moral examples. It is clear from the history outlined in this book that this practice of “plural marriage” was stopped only after great resistance, and there are hints of it still happening in splinter groups of the Mormon Church even today.

So this was an eye-opening book that was helpful to learn about part of American history and culture that I didn’t really know much about. Near the end of the book the author interviews a man who left the Mormon church. He had proven himself quite clever as a young man in the church so the church leadership sent him off to a university to be trained as a teacher. And as he started to learn and think for himself in this place of higher learning he realized that what he had been fed his whole life back at the church didn’t align with the reality of the outside world. This story really reinforced for me the importance of education and critical thinking for young people. Any sort of religion that discourages this would seem to me to be suspect.

The next book is Nose Dive by Harold McGee – a deep analysis of how smells (in food and elsewhere) are created and how we perceive them.

Recently the subject of autism came up in one of my classes and upon some short discussion it became clear to me that I had almost no idea what autism really was, other than a few pop culture references (think Dustin Hoffman in Rainman). I thought the best way to learn more about it would be to hear from someone who suffers from it, and this book provides that opportunity.

Using a special indicator with hiragana letters, the author can communicate more clearly his thoughts and feelings with other people, and in this book he answers questions that frequently come up about autism and why people who suffer from it behave differently in various situations.

I think this book would be perfect for parents that have a child diagnosed with autism as it provides them a reference point to judge what behavior is “normal” and gives lots of advice for caretakers about when to step in and help the person with autism, and when to step back and let them do what they are doing.

Mr. Higashida’s descriptions of what he sees, what he focuses on, how he perceives time and what days are like for him are fascinating. The challenges that people with autism face are epic – but through these challenges the author shows that he enjoys living his “not normal” life, he sees the beauty of things (especially in nature) and just wants other people to understand what’s going on inside the head of someone with autism. The book is well written and translated in a way that makes it easy to understand his gentle nature.

This was a short book – just about two hours to finish, but I learned a lot in those two hours and was glad to read it. I understand there is another book written by the author so I may get to that in the future.

The next book I’m reading is also non-fiction, Under the Banner of Heaven by Jon Krakauer, about some of the more violent forms of American religion.

Recently I finished reading Slade House by David Mitchell, and while reading the book it reminded me of the author’s fondness for introducing and connecting characters and themes across all his books. Since Slade House was a relatively short read I jumped right into The Bone Clocks next, which was a much longer reading experience. Since they are closely related, I’ll write about them both here.

I’ve read a couple other David Mitchell books: Cloud Atlas, Utopia Avenue, and The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet. Even reading only two of those books will start to bring what seem to be coincidences into focus, and after finishing Utopia Avenue last year and meeting some of the same characters in different ways I became more curious about the interconnected world that the author has been building.

Slade House and The Bone Clocks focus on a more science fiction kind of story, with The Bone Clocks answering a lot of the questions that come up after reading the other books. The way all of these books are written means that if you pick up the connections and want to read more you are welcome to it, but it isn’t necessary to enjoy the book you have in your hands.

Slade House is almost like a ghost story you’d tell around a campfire. I liked the characters and the back story that comes with each one. Even when you are suspecting a trick – and the author all but tells you that one is coming – you are still surprised thanks to some creative revelations. I was almost disappointed it ended as soon as it did.

So while Slade House served as a sort of appetizer course, reading The Bone Clocks became a very satisfying main dish. The book has many of the themes I like in fiction: epic timelines, science fiction elements, clever writing, villains that you can’t help liking and international travel and culture woven thoroughly into the story. This book tells a detailed interconnected story and it was rewarding to reach the end and the very satisfying conclusion.

The author is extremely talented in writing from various character viewpoints. If I didn’t like one character it wouldn’t be long before another comes up. Mitchell’s diversity and depth of knowledge is truly impressive. The writing process and research for books like this must be incredibly time-consuming.

Because it is such a long book there is plenty of space for social commentary, and some of it seemed a little unnecessary for the story, but certainly the breadth of material more than made up for some slower parts. In the end the story to me was about what mortality means – and how even this basic term is open to some interpretation given the right circumstances.

As I said before, this was a very satisfying read, and I’m a little concerned that the next book I read will suffer from being cast in the shadow of The Bone Clocks. Perhaps I’ve found a way around that by choosing a book translated by David Mitchell and his wife K.A. Yoshida – it is The Reason I Jump by Naoki Higashida.

One of the problems of reading translations of foreign books is that there is a risk of not completely getting the message that the author gave to the people that share the author’s native language.

Even more so when you have a little background with the language and culture in question. I sometimes found myself second guessing the translations and wondering if it was truly expressing what the author wanted to say. I can only imagine how difficult a task it would be to translate a book like this that deals with such deep psychological and cultural issues.

In the end this book was an interesting read for me, and an exercise into just how introspective some people can be.

The introspective person in this case is the lawyer Kido-san, who constantly considers topics as deep as “what is identity, and how much control do we have over it?” and also things as simple as whether or not the bartender should use the cocktail shaker with gusto. Kido goes deep on just about every topic, and the book hits many current topics in contemporary Japanese culture almost like the author was crossing these off a list he was given.

I’m not sure whether it is the translation or the original author, but I felt that the dialogue sounded forced and unnatural. The dialogue involving children sounded especially strange. The author’s writing style was like reading an information download – just lots of facts lined up for you to process. Many books that I read tend to show situations to the reader and let you make the deductions and inferences, but this book just provides the information without any sort of finesse.

There are some good points to the book – the mystery at the heart of the book is engaging, and the resolution satisfactory. The character of Kido is likable and slightly mysterious enough to wonder about his background. And the real issue in the book – the meaning of identity and how it may or may not be manipulated is intriguing as well.

So despite some rough areas overall I enjoyed the book. There are a few other books by this author, so I may try to read one in Japanese and see how much of what I disliked was due to the translation and how much was simply the writing style.

Coming up next, Slade House by David Mitchell.

I came to this book for the science behind the cooking – and there is plenty – but what I really liked about this book is the bold and unusual combinations of traditional Indian spices with fresh ingredients from all over the world. The author keeps his background story to a minimum and instead concentrates on breaking down his equation for flavor – and how it influences the dishes he describes.

I’ve tried just a couple of recipes from this book so far (masala shrimp, and also chickpea salad with date and tamarind dressing) but there are a lot more I hope to cook in the future. I’ve got a pantry full of spices and this cookbook really lets you try out some of the spice jars at the back of your shelf.

If there is any weak point for this book it would be the integration of the science and recipes. The beginning of each section explains in general about the concept (brightness, bitterness, etc.) but then just a few short lines connect these concepts with the recipes. I’d like to hear more detail – line by line with explanations of what is happening chemically in each step. It might be a little too technical for people who are reading casually, so I can understand why it was written that way. Still, what is written is enough to understand in the context of the recipes given but not enough to extrapolate into your own creations.

This was a good book to push me to use more spices in different situations, so I’m hoping to cook more of these dishes over the next few months.

Next I’m reading a book recommended by a student – an English translation of A Man by Keiichiro Hirano.