Book Review: Love Soup by Anna Thomas

Love Soup by Anna Thomas
Anna Thomas hasn’t written a vegan cook book but there are so many bold upper case “V”s against recipes in the index that she almost has. Not surprisingly, perhaps, given the book’s title is Love Soup, this is a cook book primarily of soup recipes. A significant proportion of which are vegan. It’s the non-soup recipes that are primarily non-vegan, that is, they’re vegetarian (see Chapter 17 “A few easy sweets”). Apparently, her two sons are vegan and she “shouts-out” to them in a brief “Vegan-Friendly” foreword.

I like cook books that can be read. Yes, colour photographs in a cook book are always interesting to study. Often, though, they don’t always they make the dishes look appealing. Love Soup doesn’t have colour photographs (there are some cheery two-colour illustrations by Annika Huett) and it’s none the worse for it. This is because it’s cook book to read, browse and savour. Anna Thomas’s writing style is friendly and straightforward. “Cooking was always fun,” she writes. “I never cooked professionally, so I always cooked only what I felt like cooking, for the people I loved.” This sentiment is clearly apparent throughout the book.

The recipes are a mixture of traditional (e.g., “Old-fashioned split pea soup”) and adventurous (e.g., Spicy Indonesian Yam and Peanut Soup). There are also recipes for “Big soups and stews” and “Hummus and company.” I haven’t made any of the recipes. I cannot write about whether they work and what the food tastes like. But I can say that looking through this book I’m inspired. It is one of those rare cook books. I may not ever cook any of the recipes. But I can honestly say that this book will inspire me to make even better soups just by thumbing through the pages and savouring what it has to share.

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More on Gill Shooting Baboon

Here’s the text of a letter I had published this week in the Hastings Observer about “AA Gill shot baboon ‘to see what it would be like to kill someone'”.

Local Conservative Amber Rudd can’t be held responsible for her former husband’s shooting of a baboon in Tanzania but there’s one comparison she can’t ignore. In The Sunday Times (October 25) restaurant critic A A Gill wrote, “I took him [baboon] just below the armpit. He slumped and slid sideways. I’m told they can be tricky to shoot: they run up trees, hang on for grim life. They die hard, baboons. But not this one. A soft-nosed .357 blew his lungs out. I wanted to get a sense of what it might be like to kill someone, a stranger.” Of course Ms Rudd should not be condemned by association but she might take note of what he said in his defence. “I know perfectly well [Gill writes] there is absolutely no excuse for this. There is no mitigation. Baboon isn’t good to eat, unless you’re a leopard. The feeble argument of culling and control is much the same as for foxes: a veil for naughty fun.” As the Prospective Parliamentary Conservative candidate for Hastings and Rye, Ms Rudd supports repealing the Hunting Act 2005 which banned hare coursing, fox, stag and deer hunting. A recent poll (YouGov) showed that 75 per cent of those asked opposed making fox hunting legal. Further, 62 per cent of those asked who identified themselves as Conservatives opposed making fox hunting legal. Shooting baboons may be “naughty fun” to Mr Gill. Ms Rudd needs to understand that hunting in Britain is not considered fun either naughty or otherwise.

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Foer Reviewed in The New Yorker

The review was accompanied by the outstanding art of Sue Coe.

Foer’s novels are pointedly postmodern; they play with voice and genre, language and typography. (“Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close” ends with a flip book of a body either falling out of or flying away from the World Trade Center.) “Eating Animals” is written in a similar po-mode; it is constantly shifting among formats—a glossary of terms, interviews, personal vignettes—and each chapter is introduced with a page or two of graphic art. The chapter titled “Hiding/Seeking,” for example, opens with an outline of a box, sixty-seven squares in area, which is supposed to illustrate the amount of space allotted to a typical laying hen. Some may object that Foer’s style is too playful (or gimmicky) for what he contends is a deadly serious subject. Others will argue that he lacks the courage of his convictions.

For much of “Eating Animals,” it appears that Foer is arguing for vegetarianism as the only moral course. Then, it turns out, he isn’t—or, at least, not quite. In the middle of the book, Foer becomes friendly with a farmer named Frank Reese, who raises what are known as “heritage” turkeys. (It is for Reese that Aaron Gross, the vegan theology professor, is trying to design a model—and also mobile—slaughterhouse.) Evolutionarily speaking, heritage turkeys fall somewhere between the wild variety that the colonists encountered and the obscenely large-breasted breeds that now fill the meat aisle. A heritage turkey is probably what your great-grandparents served if they celebrated Thanksgiving.

Flesh of Your Flesh: Should you eat meat? by Elizabeth Kolbert reviewing Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer.

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Which Bit of No Meat Don’t You Understand?

BBC News Magazine struggles with what vegetarian means.

The Grumpy Vegan used to go to a restaurant in Baltimore and order the vegan version of a salad of roasted vegetables on a bed of greens. It was delicious. Invariably, however, it would be served sprinkled with grated Parmesan.

“Which bit of no cheese don’t you understand?”

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