2022 #3: Taste: My Life Through Food (Tucci)

 Cross-posted at the Lady of Shallots

Taste: My Life Through Food by Stanley Tucci
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I didn't know a thing about Stanley Tucci beyond "he's an actor" when my best friend recommended this book to me. Since I had a few free Audible credits, I decided to make this my first audiobook experience as well. I'm not sure it was the best choice on that front, as having recipes "read" to me is not that fulfilling (and if I'm listening to an audiobook I'm not going to be in a position to write them down). On the other hand, hearing Stanley Tucci recount his own memoir was wonderful and entrenched me in a deep nostalgia for my own Italian-American roots. Having spent considerable time in Italy, Tucci's pronunciation is more European than the particular East Coast American Italian er...dialect...that I learned from my father, but he nods to it on more than one occasion. Given his wry humor, hearing him say "fagioli" correctly (as opposed to "fazool") seemed a bit incongruous. The only truly annoying aspect of the audiobook, however, was the dialogue, which Tucci reads like a script, announcing the speaker ("Mom", "Me", "Felicity") before every single utterance. I did not feel this was necessary and Tucci is a good enough actor to have made a distinction between the "characters" (without resorting to farcical vocal characterizations as we also sometimes hear in audiobooks). But enough about My First Audiobook. I will be buying the print version for the recipes.

Again, knowing nothing about Tucci or his life, I wasn't quite prepared for the last segment of the memoir. As the publisher's blurb says nothing of it, I won't provide a spoiler here, but suffice it to say, the "journey through good times and bad" is legit, particularly on the "bad" front. Let's just say that under normal circumstances hearing a VERY LONG litany of foods he can eat, which he provides near the end of the book, would be taxing, but I found tears welling up in my eyes. It really is a beautiful celebration of food, family, and life. I am also grateful (I think) for the fact that he helped me recall a food that had been sitting in the deep abyss of my most buried memories: timpano. My mother and father, who divorced when I was eleven, did make one Christmas, a timpano. I had forgotten all about it, but the memories came rushing back, and while my mother did not likely curse about it -- even behind closed doors--I firmly believe she probably wanted to do so. I remember thinking it wasn't possible to put so much food at once into a single dish and then into my digestive system. Tucci says it is like cilantro--you either love it or hate it. I love cilantro. I cannot say the same for my memories of timpano.

The book is full of little treasures of food trivia (that martinis were often made with scotch in lieu of more expensive vermouth was a revelation), but it really is a rather moving and humorous account of life and food. I enjoyed listening to it while I cooked, and it helped renew my energy for what I know to be an act of love, but sometimes has felt more like a chore. With Tucci's words and voice, the simple and sweet truth of food's power to both center and be at the center of our lives is beautifully resonant.

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