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Land of Milk and Honey
ŷ Choice Award
Nominee for Readers' Favorite Science Fiction (2023)The award-winning author of How Much of These Hills Is Gold returns with a rapturous and revelatory novel about a young chef whose discovery of pleasure alters her life and, indirectly, the world
A smog has spread. Food crops are rapidly disappearing. A chef escapes her dying career in a dreary city to take a job at a decadent mountaintop colony seemingly free of the world’s troubles.
There, the sky is clear again. Rare ingredients abound. Her enigmatic employer and his visionary daughter have built a lush new life for the global elite, one that reawakens the chef to the pleasures of taste, touch, and her own body.
In this atmosphere of hidden wonders and cool, seductive violence, the chef’s boundaries undergo a thrilling erosion. Soon she is pushed to the center of a startling attempt to reshape the world far beyond the plate.
Sensuous and surprising, joyous and bitingly sharp, told in language as alluring as it is original, Land of Milk and Honey lays provocatively bare the ethics of seeking pleasure in a dying world. It is a daringly imaginative exploration of desire and deception, privilege and faith, and the roles we play to survive. Most of all, it is a love letter to food, to wild delight, and to the transformative power of a woman embracing her own appetite.
A smog has spread. Food crops are rapidly disappearing. A chef escapes her dying career in a dreary city to take a job at a decadent mountaintop colony seemingly free of the world’s troubles.
There, the sky is clear again. Rare ingredients abound. Her enigmatic employer and his visionary daughter have built a lush new life for the global elite, one that reawakens the chef to the pleasures of taste, touch, and her own body.
In this atmosphere of hidden wonders and cool, seductive violence, the chef’s boundaries undergo a thrilling erosion. Soon she is pushed to the center of a startling attempt to reshape the world far beyond the plate.
Sensuous and surprising, joyous and bitingly sharp, told in language as alluring as it is original, Land of Milk and Honey lays provocatively bare the ethics of seeking pleasure in a dying world. It is a daringly imaginative exploration of desire and deception, privilege and faith, and the roles we play to survive. Most of all, it is a love letter to food, to wild delight, and to the transformative power of a woman embracing her own appetite.
240 pages, Hardcover
First published September 26, 2023
1,664 people are currently reading
74.7k people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 3,197 reviews
May 31, 2024
i'll never be able to see the words milk and honey without thinking of instagram poetry. thanks rupi kaur.
but i liked this about the same as i would if it were in that genre, so. fair enough.
this is just not my type of book (no more pandemicish dystopian, please, i'm too fragile) nor of writing style.
more frankly, this is overwritten, with words used for how they sound rather than what they mean. "hulkings," as a synonym for hills. "humping" instead of rising. "eloquent" for an image of a graffitied d*ck. i didn't like it when cormac mccarthy did it, and he did it a lot better.
beyond that, between piles of adjectives, this landed heavilyon cliches: "it wasn't until i hung up that i realized he'd never asked my name." no way! really?
add to these itsgimmicks: "my employer" unwieldilyused as many as four times a paragraph, as what was a fun style choice in early pages loses its sheen by the halfwaypoint. if only there were a short, one or two syllable thing that we could call a specific person in order to reference them.
there are haystacks of em dashes every time another language is used, in an italy surrounded by expats as our monolingual protagonist.
there's italicized dialogue instead of the proletariat quotation mark.
in other words...a lot of unearned style here.
and ultimately my interest in the idea of an illicit, hyper-gifted chef cooking in secret in a dystopian world without food died when met with an untalented line cook. that, and a nonsense plot hinging on the justification-less idea that she'd be portraying a woman of another nationality at least decades her senior.
not to mention that goofy ending.
anyway. this book doesn't know what it wants: for us to condemn its cast of wealthy, even as they do more than the politicians it can't bring itself to frame as the good guys; to extol the virtues of our protagonist, deliberately ignorant to the selfishness and ego and greed that rival anyone's; to approve of fine cuisine or skewer it, same with capitalism and global travel and age- and power-gap relationships and money and philanthropy and and and.
it's mealy mouthed in every way you can imagine, and it leaves a sour taste.
bottom line: not yummy.
---------------------
tbr review
i just like reading about food
but i liked this about the same as i would if it were in that genre, so. fair enough.
this is just not my type of book (no more pandemicish dystopian, please, i'm too fragile) nor of writing style.
more frankly, this is overwritten, with words used for how they sound rather than what they mean. "hulkings," as a synonym for hills. "humping" instead of rising. "eloquent" for an image of a graffitied d*ck. i didn't like it when cormac mccarthy did it, and he did it a lot better.
beyond that, between piles of adjectives, this landed heavilyon cliches: "it wasn't until i hung up that i realized he'd never asked my name." no way! really?
add to these itsgimmicks: "my employer" unwieldilyused as many as four times a paragraph, as what was a fun style choice in early pages loses its sheen by the halfwaypoint. if only there were a short, one or two syllable thing that we could call a specific person in order to reference them.
there are haystacks of em dashes every time another language is used, in an italy surrounded by expats as our monolingual protagonist.
there's italicized dialogue instead of the proletariat quotation mark.
in other words...a lot of unearned style here.
and ultimately my interest in the idea of an illicit, hyper-gifted chef cooking in secret in a dystopian world without food died when met with an untalented line cook. that, and a nonsense plot hinging on the justification-less idea that she'd be portraying a woman of another nationality at least decades her senior.
not to mention that goofy ending.
anyway. this book doesn't know what it wants: for us to condemn its cast of wealthy, even as they do more than the politicians it can't bring itself to frame as the good guys; to extol the virtues of our protagonist, deliberately ignorant to the selfishness and ego and greed that rival anyone's; to approve of fine cuisine or skewer it, same with capitalism and global travel and age- and power-gap relationships and money and philanthropy and and and.
it's mealy mouthed in every way you can imagine, and it leaves a sour taste.
bottom line: not yummy.
---------------------
tbr review
i just like reading about food
July 26, 2023
Creative, frightening, beautiful sentences, and made me very, very hungry
September 28, 2023
Robert Frost gave us so little choice when he wrote, “Some say the world will end in fire, / Some say in ice.�
What about plague, flood, zombies, killer robots, ocean acidification, nuclear accident and alien invasion? Fortunately, in these latter days before climate collapse, our apocalyptic literature comes in a grim smorgasbord of flavors.
And now we have an apocalyptic novel that is all about flavors. “Land of Milk and Honey,� by C Pam Zhang, is the haunting story of an ambitious chef desperate to keep cooking even as 98 percent of the commercial crops fail and the world’s store of food dwindles to gruel.
The narrator, unnamed, is in her 20s when a mysterious smog arises from Iowa and blocks out the sun around the world. “Biodiversity fell. Wildlife and livestock perished for lack of feed,� she remembers. “What it amounted to was skies that were gray and kitchens that were gray. You could taste it: gray. No olives, no quails, no grapes of the tart green kind � no saffron, no buffalo, no polished short-grain rice.� On and on rolls this inventory of culinary devastation, a vast catalogue that invokes delicacies only by noting their absence. For a chef, such bare cupboards portend a tasteless existence sustained only by mung-protein flour.
Zhang is such a cool writer that salmon steaks could stay fresh in her prose for weeks. But there’s something absurd about this narrator’s single-minded obsession with haute cuisine during what sounds like Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road.� As the restaurant where she works in England runs out of supplies, she makes a bold choice: “I quit that job to pursue recklessly, immorally, desperately, the only one that gave me hope of lettuce.�
The endive is near!
To read the rest of this review, go to The Washington Post:
What about plague, flood, zombies, killer robots, ocean acidification, nuclear accident and alien invasion? Fortunately, in these latter days before climate collapse, our apocalyptic literature comes in a grim smorgasbord of flavors.
And now we have an apocalyptic novel that is all about flavors. “Land of Milk and Honey,� by C Pam Zhang, is the haunting story of an ambitious chef desperate to keep cooking even as 98 percent of the commercial crops fail and the world’s store of food dwindles to gruel.
The narrator, unnamed, is in her 20s when a mysterious smog arises from Iowa and blocks out the sun around the world. “Biodiversity fell. Wildlife and livestock perished for lack of feed,� she remembers. “What it amounted to was skies that were gray and kitchens that were gray. You could taste it: gray. No olives, no quails, no grapes of the tart green kind � no saffron, no buffalo, no polished short-grain rice.� On and on rolls this inventory of culinary devastation, a vast catalogue that invokes delicacies only by noting their absence. For a chef, such bare cupboards portend a tasteless existence sustained only by mung-protein flour.
Zhang is such a cool writer that salmon steaks could stay fresh in her prose for weeks. But there’s something absurd about this narrator’s single-minded obsession with haute cuisine during what sounds like Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road.� As the restaurant where she works in England runs out of supplies, she makes a bold choice: “I quit that job to pursue recklessly, immorally, desperately, the only one that gave me hope of lettuce.�
The endive is near!
To read the rest of this review, go to The Washington Post:
September 28, 2023
I missed out on 'How Much of These Hills Is Gold' at some previous book award cycle, but I was intrigued. I'm shocked how weak this was. Like every theme, every statement about the world we live in, about wealth, about politics, about an extremely rich fraud, who *ahem* sells electric cars and moon tourism, about environment, commodification of animals; all themes mentioned, never interestingly explored. The story (romantic story? maybe? because how this book ended) itself and the writing are full of cliches and are not interesting enough to propel through the novel. The ostensibly sumptuous descriptions of food almost plead for baroque prose that is not delivered. Disappointment, but at least it's short.
June 11, 2024
In the near future, smog has engulfed the earth and killed most crops. Food is now synonymous with sawdust that's barely edible. Fresh strawberries? What a concept!
The main character loves food. By her delicious luck, a mysterious restaurant in rural Italy is hiring a chef. That tiny patch of Italy is one of the few locations on Earth that still gets some scrumptious sunlight and, thus, has the mouthwatering luxury of seductively fresh produce. Here's what's not as lucky: the main character doesn't actually have the right qualifications for the job. But eh, would a little resume fibbing hurt anyone? No one will find out, probably. And if they do, what's the worst that could happen?
Land of Milk and Honey is literary fiction set in the near future with a speculative element. However, science fiction fans will protest against putting this on the genre shelf, since the speculative element takes a backseat to human relationships in this story - and to lush writing in the way the story is told.
It delves into some timeless topics that are as relevant to us today as they can get. The novel explores codependent relationships and what circumstances could make someone give up their moral principles. It looks at the fetishization of ethnic minorities and the power dynamics that money engenders. Oh how I do hope that these themes will feel less timeless, or should I say neverending, in humanity's future.
The book starts slow, with very little happening. About halfway through, there is a twist that improves the novel, in my experience, as the codependent relationship goes to a new level. Still, the writing relies heavily on descriptions of the protagonist's sensory experiences rather than her thoughts, and that heavy-handed sensory approach dulled my enjoyment of the novel.
Example: the protagonist gets a phone call that presumably shakes her. But instead of describing her thoughts or emotional reaction, the narrator says "I still remember the weight of the phone in my hand."
The only time when the sensory descriptions worked for me was when the narrator described fruit as a metaphor for her romantic relationship.
Speaking of relationships, the central one, although not romantic per se, reminded me of the gilded cage marriage paradigm that I would be expected to pursue were I to stay in Eastern Europe past my adolescence. The description of this relationship is alright, but could definitely benefit from a deeper exploration of the protagonist's thoughts, rather than descriptions of actions and transactions with no deeper commentary.
In the end, I think this novel relies too heavily on being poetic and, as a result, fails to deliver on an emotional level. However, there is value in the messages it aims to send.
The main character loves food. By her delicious luck, a mysterious restaurant in rural Italy is hiring a chef. That tiny patch of Italy is one of the few locations on Earth that still gets some scrumptious sunlight and, thus, has the mouthwatering luxury of seductively fresh produce. Here's what's not as lucky: the main character doesn't actually have the right qualifications for the job. But eh, would a little resume fibbing hurt anyone? No one will find out, probably. And if they do, what's the worst that could happen?
Land of Milk and Honey is literary fiction set in the near future with a speculative element. However, science fiction fans will protest against putting this on the genre shelf, since the speculative element takes a backseat to human relationships in this story - and to lush writing in the way the story is told.
It delves into some timeless topics that are as relevant to us today as they can get. The novel explores codependent relationships and what circumstances could make someone give up their moral principles. It looks at the fetishization of ethnic minorities and the power dynamics that money engenders. Oh how I do hope that these themes will feel less timeless, or should I say neverending, in humanity's future.
The book starts slow, with very little happening. About halfway through, there is a twist that improves the novel, in my experience, as the codependent relationship goes to a new level. Still, the writing relies heavily on descriptions of the protagonist's sensory experiences rather than her thoughts, and that heavy-handed sensory approach dulled my enjoyment of the novel.
Example: the protagonist gets a phone call that presumably shakes her. But instead of describing her thoughts or emotional reaction, the narrator says "I still remember the weight of the phone in my hand."
The only time when the sensory descriptions worked for me was when the narrator described fruit as a metaphor for her romantic relationship.
Speaking of relationships, the central one, although not romantic per se, reminded me of the gilded cage marriage paradigm that I would be expected to pursue were I to stay in Eastern Europe past my adolescence. The description of this relationship is alright, but could definitely benefit from a deeper exploration of the protagonist's thoughts, rather than descriptions of actions and transactions with no deeper commentary.
In the end, I think this novel relies too heavily on being poetic and, as a result, fails to deliver on an emotional level. However, there is value in the messages it aims to send.
September 8, 2023
I actually hated this book and I’m sad to be so blunt about it.
September 28, 2023
A lot of interesting topics were only mentioned in this book, but never really explored - climate change, social class, ambition, greed, famine, etc. I didn't particularly like the wiring style and the use of italics instead of a proper dialogue, it felt cold and emotionless. The endless descriptions and musings about food quickly became quite dull.
June 8, 2023
Great premise but the execution lost me a bit. The various overlapping themes seemed to fight rather than complement each other - climate change, identity, ambition, the performatively grotesque greed of the ultra-rich...And the middle of the novel, in particular, felt weighed down by repetition and the endless descriptions of food. I guess the intention was to tread the line between desire and disgust in the lavish and painstaking creation of elaborate meals from endangered plants and animals, but as a vegetarian of 35+ years, I just felt a weary nausea.
I got to the end and felt some things resolved themselves too easily, others not at all. Or maybe I just didn't get it.
Nicely written, though.
*
I received a copy from the publisher via NetGalley.
I got to the end and felt some things resolved themselves too easily, others not at all. Or maybe I just didn't get it.
Nicely written, though.
*
I received a copy from the publisher via NetGalley.
October 9, 2023
Not sure how I feel about this. Some beautiful prose, a fascinating concept, but something just didn't click in how it came together.
Read
June 27, 2024This book was chosen by my book club. So this was my June, 2024 book club read. Would I have chosen this book on my own? No. Was I happy to give it a chance? Yes I was, as I am open to “expanding my horizons�. However� this book did not work out for me or any of the other members of my book club unfortunately.
All I have to say is this book is bizarre. An unnamed narrator tells the story of how a smog has taken over. The smog destroyed America and Southeast Asia first, and then a year and a half later it reached Europe. The smog has destroyed all the crops, sheep, and cattle. Food is made with a processed flour/meal that is highly addictive. Our unnamed narrator is a chef who gets a job in Italy - she was able to land this job by lying on her resume.
In Italy, our unnamed chef/narrator meets her rich boss and his daughter Aida. Here she also gets acquainted with foods, such as strawberries, that she hasn’t seen in years. She becomes friends with Aida and is taken to a lab where animals are reproduced. She is also taken to a place where grass is planted, called “the land of milk and honey�.
None of us were really sure what the point of this boring, depressing book was. We have several thoughts and theories (way too many to get into in this review). I mean, our food sources could certainly be destroyed one day. We already have Bill Gates manufacturing genetically engineered foods, and they’re already selling Impossible Meat at the stores- so maybe this book was a glimpse into our future. And it seemed that only the rich will be able to eat the real foods that are left, and live in proper housing to protect them from the smog�
Regardless, this was a weird book. This wasn’t my cup of tea, and I honestly couldn’t even bring myself to finish this book. Since I only read about half of this book, I have decided not to rate this book as it wouldn’t be a fair rating.
All I have to say is this book is bizarre. An unnamed narrator tells the story of how a smog has taken over. The smog destroyed America and Southeast Asia first, and then a year and a half later it reached Europe. The smog has destroyed all the crops, sheep, and cattle. Food is made with a processed flour/meal that is highly addictive. Our unnamed narrator is a chef who gets a job in Italy - she was able to land this job by lying on her resume.
In Italy, our unnamed chef/narrator meets her rich boss and his daughter Aida. Here she also gets acquainted with foods, such as strawberries, that she hasn’t seen in years. She becomes friends with Aida and is taken to a lab where animals are reproduced. She is also taken to a place where grass is planted, called “the land of milk and honey�.
None of us were really sure what the point of this boring, depressing book was. We have several thoughts and theories (way too many to get into in this review). I mean, our food sources could certainly be destroyed one day. We already have Bill Gates manufacturing genetically engineered foods, and they’re already selling Impossible Meat at the stores- so maybe this book was a glimpse into our future. And it seemed that only the rich will be able to eat the real foods that are left, and live in proper housing to protect them from the smog�
Regardless, this was a weird book. This wasn’t my cup of tea, and I honestly couldn’t even bring myself to finish this book. Since I only read about half of this book, I have decided not to rate this book as it wouldn’t be a fair rating.
October 2, 2023
If I described this novel in a single word, it would be *sensual*. The author knows food, and especially its potential for seduction.
The main character is a line chef who pads her resumé when a great opportunity arises for her to work at a restaurant seemingly at the top of the world, in the rareified air.
Her employer is a nouveau riche ultrawealthy Italian man with a chip on his shoulder, and a sinister need to exert power over others. He has discovered that money doesn't buy class or respect, but he keeps trying anyway. His idea of haute cuisine is something along the lines of: turtle soup, wedge salad, Escargot in puff pastry, Steak Diane, and Salmon Oscar with chocolate mousse for dessert, all the hip foods of many years ago. His daughter is much more refined, but also haughty at times.
The employer has anticipated every global disaster, and invested in the right things, at the right time. It's uncanny, and a little fishy, like getting a straight flush three times in a row.
The employer has also stockpiled every culinary item that he was prescient enough to know would be impossible to find at some point. It's such an astronomical gastronomical hoard, it needs its own storage level to itself, at the bottom of a long staircase. The main character feels like Persephone, going down to the Underworld, and frankly the whole place has a dangerous vibe. You can tell that there are secrets being kept from her. And have long deep dark staircases ever lead to anything good in fiction?
Of course, it is a very small leap to go from hoarding all of Earth's most precious resources, to playing God. This plot point is hardly a surprise, but it is also well presented, with just the right amount of detail.
The employer and his daughter feed on the insecurities of their staff, making them jump through hoops and participate in ridiculous games. Craftily, they combine compliments with challenges. It's a heady mix, leaving the main character forever second guessing where she stands.
Still, our unnamed narrator/protagonist/chef knows the ecstatic appreciation of perpendicular flavors. It's no small power she wields, as she reminisces to herself:
𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴.
Her employer, however, rather than appearing warm, indulgent, and effusive toward his guests, comes off as chilled, even acerbic. The chef begins to wonder if her employer really wants acceptance from the old money set, or if he is disgusted by their easy wanton excesses. Those who feel inferior to others tend to hate, mistrust, and fear everyone else. It can make them seem hostile when they don't speak, and boorish and unpolished when they do. As incredibly cringey as the employer comes across to his guests, he believes he has some power over them, and surprisingly, after they push back at his ill-mannered brashness, they succumb to his perhaps ill-conceived leadership, simply led by their fear of the unwashed masses he seems to be holding back from touching them, on this well-guarded patch of safe harbor.
The guests' greed for the rare, and not just to consume it, but to inhabit it, overcomes their initial privileged, conspicuous pickiness and their usual self-aggrandizing, prickly natures. There will always be those who prize whatever others cannot have, regardless if they even want it. The emphasis on extravagant indulgences during the worst apocrypha the world had ever known, strikes our narrator as so absurd as to be darkly comical. It's like being the personal chef for Dr. Moreau while the Earth turns to ash. But, she can play this two-tiered role for the benefits, whether it makes her hate herself later or not.
At this stage of the story, it's difficult to know who is really in charge: the employer or his smart, savvy daughter. This is made more difficult by the fact that they both think that they are in charge and that the other plays a supporting role. Our narrator agrees to play a part selected for her, not just because she has no other good options, but also because it appeals to her pride. She already knows that this is not the moral high road.
A huge contributor to our discomfort about the arrangement made between our Asian American narrator and her employer is that he seems to see her as a subservient stereotype, more of a stand-in, a role to play, than a person. It's clear that our protagonist has known more than her share of disrespect over the years, so she almost expects this.
As unlikable as the employer is, he knows how to sell to the wealthy: rarity. This is like a very upscale version of a timeshare condo pitch, except it's the last vacation condo in the world, and you get to spend one hour there before it will disappear into the sea. That's the kind of rare experience he's selling and that some people cannot resist:
𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥'𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘺, 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘹𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦.
Psychological manipulation is inherent in any scheme to get investors on board. The people have to not only agree to invest, but to actually thank you for the rare opportunity you've given them because they were special enough to be chosen. A seat at the table itself must be seen as a prize.
It's not clear how long they felt their collaboration could last, or how much they hated themselves or disliked each other. But even dislike is a type of relationship. They needed that connection, a kind of mutual justification and possible mutually assured destruction.
There is no shortage of symbolism in this story. The function of the invisible glass eye in the secret room seems to be a stand-in for both conscience and shame, both of which the employer and the chef are sublimating. Our protagonist feels she is becoming less substantial, a smokey outline of herself, vulnerable to complete erasure. She thinks about how her mother saw food as work, and how the chef sees food as joy. Could they ever have learned to understand each other, the standoff of the practical against the pleasurable? It is ironic, then, that part of the role our protagonist/chef/narrator plays is one of purity, of denial of self.
The daughter of the employer has a different crisis of self: to believe in her own grand plan is to believe in herself. It props her up. It's central to her identity. She mistakes realistic prognostication as pessimism.
Sensuality is what cuts through all the noise, the only meaning in a world which has lost all meaning. The author does not disappoint in her melding of the pleasures of both food and sex, how they both can make us feel more alive. Both have a pull and a power greater than our own will. After months of feigning placid piety, the protagonist is ready to seek, and to surrender to, passions of every kind.
Unfortunately, there are other kinds of passions. When political winds change and the 1% are in danger of losing their own continuing privilege, that's when the games get ugliest. This time, manipulation of their biggest investor will require accepting humiliation, a crime of passionate greed. Nothing can be the same after that event, but somehow they all at least feel that they have to move forward. They're in too deep. When the employer holds a ridiculous vanity hunt, the whole charade screams of excess, the hunting call described by our narrator as 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.
Out of all the hangers-on at the mountaintop, only one is a voice of sanity, of conscience, of truth. The story exposes the rituals and practices of the super wealthy for their inherent gruesomeness. Our narrator must wonder who we have become. Who decides who survives? Or who is prey, and who is predator? Those are questions for a much different world, one for which we may be headed.
The main character is a line chef who pads her resumé when a great opportunity arises for her to work at a restaurant seemingly at the top of the world, in the rareified air.
Her employer is a nouveau riche ultrawealthy Italian man with a chip on his shoulder, and a sinister need to exert power over others. He has discovered that money doesn't buy class or respect, but he keeps trying anyway. His idea of haute cuisine is something along the lines of: turtle soup, wedge salad, Escargot in puff pastry, Steak Diane, and Salmon Oscar with chocolate mousse for dessert, all the hip foods of many years ago. His daughter is much more refined, but also haughty at times.
The employer has anticipated every global disaster, and invested in the right things, at the right time. It's uncanny, and a little fishy, like getting a straight flush three times in a row.
The employer has also stockpiled every culinary item that he was prescient enough to know would be impossible to find at some point. It's such an astronomical gastronomical hoard, it needs its own storage level to itself, at the bottom of a long staircase. The main character feels like Persephone, going down to the Underworld, and frankly the whole place has a dangerous vibe. You can tell that there are secrets being kept from her. And have long deep dark staircases ever lead to anything good in fiction?
Of course, it is a very small leap to go from hoarding all of Earth's most precious resources, to playing God. This plot point is hardly a surprise, but it is also well presented, with just the right amount of detail.
The employer and his daughter feed on the insecurities of their staff, making them jump through hoops and participate in ridiculous games. Craftily, they combine compliments with challenges. It's a heady mix, leaving the main character forever second guessing where she stands.
Still, our unnamed narrator/protagonist/chef knows the ecstatic appreciation of perpendicular flavors. It's no small power she wields, as she reminisces to herself:
𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴.
Her employer, however, rather than appearing warm, indulgent, and effusive toward his guests, comes off as chilled, even acerbic. The chef begins to wonder if her employer really wants acceptance from the old money set, or if he is disgusted by their easy wanton excesses. Those who feel inferior to others tend to hate, mistrust, and fear everyone else. It can make them seem hostile when they don't speak, and boorish and unpolished when they do. As incredibly cringey as the employer comes across to his guests, he believes he has some power over them, and surprisingly, after they push back at his ill-mannered brashness, they succumb to his perhaps ill-conceived leadership, simply led by their fear of the unwashed masses he seems to be holding back from touching them, on this well-guarded patch of safe harbor.
The guests' greed for the rare, and not just to consume it, but to inhabit it, overcomes their initial privileged, conspicuous pickiness and their usual self-aggrandizing, prickly natures. There will always be those who prize whatever others cannot have, regardless if they even want it. The emphasis on extravagant indulgences during the worst apocrypha the world had ever known, strikes our narrator as so absurd as to be darkly comical. It's like being the personal chef for Dr. Moreau while the Earth turns to ash. But, she can play this two-tiered role for the benefits, whether it makes her hate herself later or not.
At this stage of the story, it's difficult to know who is really in charge: the employer or his smart, savvy daughter. This is made more difficult by the fact that they both think that they are in charge and that the other plays a supporting role. Our narrator agrees to play a part selected for her, not just because she has no other good options, but also because it appeals to her pride. She already knows that this is not the moral high road.
A huge contributor to our discomfort about the arrangement made between our Asian American narrator and her employer is that he seems to see her as a subservient stereotype, more of a stand-in, a role to play, than a person. It's clear that our protagonist has known more than her share of disrespect over the years, so she almost expects this.
As unlikable as the employer is, he knows how to sell to the wealthy: rarity. This is like a very upscale version of a timeshare condo pitch, except it's the last vacation condo in the world, and you get to spend one hour there before it will disappear into the sea. That's the kind of rare experience he's selling and that some people cannot resist:
𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥'𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘺, 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘹𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦.
Psychological manipulation is inherent in any scheme to get investors on board. The people have to not only agree to invest, but to actually thank you for the rare opportunity you've given them because they were special enough to be chosen. A seat at the table itself must be seen as a prize.
It's not clear how long they felt their collaboration could last, or how much they hated themselves or disliked each other. But even dislike is a type of relationship. They needed that connection, a kind of mutual justification and possible mutually assured destruction.
There is no shortage of symbolism in this story. The function of the invisible glass eye in the secret room seems to be a stand-in for both conscience and shame, both of which the employer and the chef are sublimating. Our protagonist feels she is becoming less substantial, a smokey outline of herself, vulnerable to complete erasure. She thinks about how her mother saw food as work, and how the chef sees food as joy. Could they ever have learned to understand each other, the standoff of the practical against the pleasurable? It is ironic, then, that part of the role our protagonist/chef/narrator plays is one of purity, of denial of self.
The daughter of the employer has a different crisis of self: to believe in her own grand plan is to believe in herself. It props her up. It's central to her identity. She mistakes realistic prognostication as pessimism.
Sensuality is what cuts through all the noise, the only meaning in a world which has lost all meaning. The author does not disappoint in her melding of the pleasures of both food and sex, how they both can make us feel more alive. Both have a pull and a power greater than our own will. After months of feigning placid piety, the protagonist is ready to seek, and to surrender to, passions of every kind.
Unfortunately, there are other kinds of passions. When political winds change and the 1% are in danger of losing their own continuing privilege, that's when the games get ugliest. This time, manipulation of their biggest investor will require accepting humiliation, a crime of passionate greed. Nothing can be the same after that event, but somehow they all at least feel that they have to move forward. They're in too deep. When the employer holds a ridiculous vanity hunt, the whole charade screams of excess, the hunting call described by our narrator as 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.
Out of all the hangers-on at the mountaintop, only one is a voice of sanity, of conscience, of truth. The story exposes the rituals and practices of the super wealthy for their inherent gruesomeness. Our narrator must wonder who we have become. Who decides who survives? Or who is prey, and who is predator? Those are questions for a much different world, one for which we may be headed.
December 15, 2023
This is such an annoying book. An ambitious young chef is struggling because Earth has experienced an environmental shift that covered the global skies with smog. This has led to failed crops and ever-reducing food sources. She gets a too good to be true offer from a multi-millionaire who has assembled other millionaires and built his own fiefdom on a mountain that breaks through the smog so that they can grow all sorts of crops, and raise all sorts of animals, etc. The book follows her year in this supposed paradise.
Dear Good-readers, let me list just a few of the annoying features of this book:
- In a "Rebecca" move, the author never tells the reader the name of the protagonist, or even the name of her employer. What's the point of that? You find out the names of other characters, so is the author trying to make these two characters into symbols? Sigh.
- The chef is hired to run a 'restaurant' but it is not really a restaurant - it only serves dinner parties to which various guests of her employer are invited and which have set menus. Yet the chef keeps calling it a 'restaurant'. Don't tell me you are a chef in a restaurant when you are really just a private chef for a rich guy. (There's another reason why this particular chef is hired, but it is just as ludicrous as everything else in this book.)
- How ludicrous you may ask? Well, let's just say that there is huge underground bunker on this mountain in which there live dozens of scientists who are resurrecting extinct animals such as the woolly mammoth so that mammoth meat can be served to the rich guy's guests. Let's consider that one pie served at a dinner party contained 250 live birds who burst into song when the pie was cut open. Let's contemplate that during the trial period of her employment, the chef is required to cook and serve a dozen or more guests at a time with no assistance, and expected to join the dinner table after each course is served, instead of going back to the kitchen to ready the next course, but yet, every course is just perfect - not lukewarm or rushed. A throng of starving children are thrown heirloom apples and instead of delighting in a rare treats, they throw them back at the chef and vomit because their palates have been damaged due to the restricted diet they have been existing on.
- Even the writing is grating. There are SO MANY descriptions of how things taste and feel, but they are all overdone or just lame. Two dogs running across a field sound like the pitter patter of a rainstorm on the roof - OK, maybe if there were a whole lot of dogs, or they were running on a hard surface, but two dogs in a grassy field - cut me a break...
I could go on, but this book is on so many top ten of 2023 lists and has so many rave reviews, that I need to stop complaining and start to try to figure out exactly what I missed. Unless the emperor has no clothes..... hmmmmm.
Dear Good-readers, let me list just a few of the annoying features of this book:
- In a "Rebecca" move, the author never tells the reader the name of the protagonist, or even the name of her employer. What's the point of that? You find out the names of other characters, so is the author trying to make these two characters into symbols? Sigh.
- The chef is hired to run a 'restaurant' but it is not really a restaurant - it only serves dinner parties to which various guests of her employer are invited and which have set menus. Yet the chef keeps calling it a 'restaurant'. Don't tell me you are a chef in a restaurant when you are really just a private chef for a rich guy. (There's another reason why this particular chef is hired, but it is just as ludicrous as everything else in this book.)
- How ludicrous you may ask? Well, let's just say that there is huge underground bunker on this mountain in which there live dozens of scientists who are resurrecting extinct animals such as the woolly mammoth so that mammoth meat can be served to the rich guy's guests. Let's consider that one pie served at a dinner party contained 250 live birds who burst into song when the pie was cut open. Let's contemplate that during the trial period of her employment, the chef is required to cook and serve a dozen or more guests at a time with no assistance, and expected to join the dinner table after each course is served, instead of going back to the kitchen to ready the next course, but yet, every course is just perfect - not lukewarm or rushed. A throng of starving children are thrown heirloom apples and instead of delighting in a rare treats, they throw them back at the chef and vomit because their palates have been damaged due to the restricted diet they have been existing on.
- Even the writing is grating. There are SO MANY descriptions of how things taste and feel, but they are all overdone or just lame. Two dogs running across a field sound like the pitter patter of a rainstorm on the roof - OK, maybe if there were a whole lot of dogs, or they were running on a hard surface, but two dogs in a grassy field - cut me a break...
I could go on, but this book is on so many top ten of 2023 lists and has so many rave reviews, that I need to stop complaining and start to try to figure out exactly what I missed. Unless the emperor has no clothes..... hmmmmm.
February 5, 2025
Such a strange story! Oddly (appropriately) enjoyable.
December 9, 2023
Beautifully and lushly written, but incredibly tedious at times.
November 19, 2023
What a delicious book, in many senses of that word! The unnamed main character is a Chinese-American chef from Los Angeles who is stranded in London by natural disaster. A toxic gray smog envelopes the majority of the world, killing most crops and animals. Countries close their borders as their populations being to starve. The chef is offered an unbelievable job in a billionaire's small private country, a mountaintop in Italy which still has access to some sunlight and caters to a set of unbelievably wealthy residents who bought their way in. The chef lies on her resume, padding it out a fictional degree from a French culinary school and experience at closed Micheline start restaurant. The chef is granted access to the country for a probation period and re-encounters a lush array of ingredients she thought were extinct from the world: fresh berries and greens, rich cream and butter, unpreserved meats and fish. Under the cold eye of her cruel employer and his charismatic and ambitious daughter the chef tries to prove she can cook dishes that will astonish the 1%. Little does she know she was hired as much for her skill in lying as her ability to cook well. This book had more queerness, more speculative elements, and more hope for a world destroyed by human greed than I was expecting. The descriptions of food, flavors, textures, and the intersection of appetite with pleasure are rich, powerful and evocative. I really enjoyed this and I particularly recommend the audiobook.
January 28, 2025
Sensual, sensorial and intelligent, if not fully coming together. Moving from dystopia, commentary on class, dominance and morality of money to queer love in a heady mix
I remember my job, my true job, was to please
This audiobook was so well done and made me appreciate the novel more than I think I would have while reading this. offers a lot in this novel, but like an exquisite meal made of the best ingredients, balance is everything and this book could have been better on that front.
Our main character in is a chef who is summoned to a mountain retreat of the ultra-wealthy. The world has gone through climate change induced mass extinctions of crops, feedstock and animals, similar to what is depicted in Interstellar. The initial sensual, sensorial descriptions of food (a strawberry for instance, versus mung bean flour supplied by the government) reminded me somewhat of of South Korean author . Despite America being plunged into famine (and limiting immigration), leading to a nationalistic retreat in countries and cuisine, the narrator is rather self-absorbed. The start of this book, where the parental house of the main character is burned down in the US, very prescient to the current news from Los Angeles, doesn't really seem to elicit any emotion with the main character.
When we arrive at the research labs in the Alps, where scientists try to genetically engineer crops to thrive without sun, we are introduced to Aida. She is entitled, 20 years old, with a British accent and PhD in genetical engineering. Apparently she is a very quick learner.
Despite almost killing someone with fugu, our main character is favoured and we get to see why she is required. Food is being a signifier of class and coupled with enormous, frivolous waste, to entice VC investors. In my view, working in M&A, this seems rather an indirect method to get money, more alike to RuPauls drag race reveals than the powerpoint I am used to. It gave me a kind of science fiction version of The Menu, the movie with Ralph Fiennes as a high concept murderous chef from 2022.
This section feels rather heavy handed, with Asian fetishising and abuse, including sexual, of cooking staff. We have a energy CEO saying: 70.000 is the market rate to stay alive on dynamic pricing wiping out the savings of elderly during freak weather, that seems to foreshadow the gas pricing peaks and the obscene profits energy traders like Trafigura make.
Aida says things like: Your are right you know, a true commitment to biodiversity requires that we would be moderately anti-human.
She basically talks like a supervillain version of the millennial in , who are not anti love, persé.
That would be a more general critique I have: the people in this book all act as anime villains.
Not to say that billionaires manipulating polls, freak weather and schemes to leave the rest of humanity behind by elite (very like), are not convincing in themselves.
Instrumentalisation of emotions as tools to woo investors into the greater cause and optimalisation of food, and varieties falling away forever as non-economically, is quite interesting.
Canonisation of food reflecting cultural imperialism and fear of famine being leveraged to pass climate legislation is quite fascinating as well.
I still find that the focus on personal relations is rather jarring in the novel, with 12% of human population dying, but we can't fault Zhang a lack of ambition.
Quotes:
What is the function of love?
The life we were promised was a scam.
The mechanisms of survival are pitiless
It’s always easy to disappear as an Asian woman
Connoisseurship of loss
They promised me the rarest meat in the world
It was the summer the bees died.
What kind of god kills the bees but leaves the rapists alive? Not my kind of god.
To want to kill is to want to live.
I don’t know what I want till I taste it
What, I ask, is fairness in a world that fears there is never enough, in which one need always scrapes against another.
My money is more useful than your guilt, but you are welcome to offer it.
I remember my job, my true job, was to please
This audiobook was so well done and made me appreciate the novel more than I think I would have while reading this. offers a lot in this novel, but like an exquisite meal made of the best ingredients, balance is everything and this book could have been better on that front.
Our main character in is a chef who is summoned to a mountain retreat of the ultra-wealthy. The world has gone through climate change induced mass extinctions of crops, feedstock and animals, similar to what is depicted in Interstellar. The initial sensual, sensorial descriptions of food (a strawberry for instance, versus mung bean flour supplied by the government) reminded me somewhat of of South Korean author . Despite America being plunged into famine (and limiting immigration), leading to a nationalistic retreat in countries and cuisine, the narrator is rather self-absorbed. The start of this book, where the parental house of the main character is burned down in the US, very prescient to the current news from Los Angeles, doesn't really seem to elicit any emotion with the main character.
When we arrive at the research labs in the Alps, where scientists try to genetically engineer crops to thrive without sun, we are introduced to Aida. She is entitled, 20 years old, with a British accent and PhD in genetical engineering. Apparently she is a very quick learner.
Despite almost killing someone with fugu, our main character is favoured and we get to see why she is required. Food is being a signifier of class and coupled with enormous, frivolous waste, to entice VC investors. In my view, working in M&A, this seems rather an indirect method to get money, more alike to RuPauls drag race reveals than the powerpoint I am used to. It gave me a kind of science fiction version of The Menu, the movie with Ralph Fiennes as a high concept murderous chef from 2022.
This section feels rather heavy handed, with Asian fetishising and abuse, including sexual, of cooking staff. We have a energy CEO saying: 70.000 is the market rate to stay alive on dynamic pricing wiping out the savings of elderly during freak weather, that seems to foreshadow the gas pricing peaks and the obscene profits energy traders like Trafigura make.
Aida says things like: Your are right you know, a true commitment to biodiversity requires that we would be moderately anti-human.
She basically talks like a supervillain version of the millennial in , who are not anti love, persé.
That would be a more general critique I have: the people in this book all act as anime villains.
Not to say that billionaires manipulating polls, freak weather and schemes to leave the rest of humanity behind by elite (very like), are not convincing in themselves.
Instrumentalisation of emotions as tools to woo investors into the greater cause and optimalisation of food, and varieties falling away forever as non-economically, is quite interesting.
Canonisation of food reflecting cultural imperialism and fear of famine being leveraged to pass climate legislation is quite fascinating as well.
I still find that the focus on personal relations is rather jarring in the novel, with 12% of human population dying, but we can't fault Zhang a lack of ambition.
Quotes:
What is the function of love?
The life we were promised was a scam.
The mechanisms of survival are pitiless
It’s always easy to disappear as an Asian woman
Connoisseurship of loss
They promised me the rarest meat in the world
It was the summer the bees died.
What kind of god kills the bees but leaves the rapists alive? Not my kind of god.
To want to kill is to want to live.
I don’t know what I want till I taste it
What, I ask, is fairness in a world that fears there is never enough, in which one need always scrapes against another.
My money is more useful than your guilt, but you are welcome to offer it.
October 9, 2023
"How Much Of These Hills Is Gold" was such a great and devastating read for me, so I was excited to read C Pam Zhang's second book.
I think it started off very strong as the main character lies her way into being the private chef of an exclusive mountain community run by a billionaire as a devastating smog chokes most of the rest of the world.
It's a very uncomfortable book (in a good way) initially as the main character sees the waste and arrogance of the wealthy investors and potential investors in the mountain.
And then it just gets kind of messy. The main character doesn't . And then there's a speed run of her life basically in the last 20 pages. She
Essentially, it feels like every theme is was building on in the first half got cast aside in the second half for a confusing mess.
I think it started off very strong as the main character lies her way into being the private chef of an exclusive mountain community run by a billionaire as a devastating smog chokes most of the rest of the world.
It's a very uncomfortable book (in a good way) initially as the main character sees the waste and arrogance of the wealthy investors and potential investors in the mountain.
And then it just gets kind of messy. The main character doesn't . And then there's a speed run of her life basically in the last 20 pages. She
Essentially, it feels like every theme is was building on in the first half got cast aside in the second half for a confusing mess.
May 8, 2024
girl dinner
April 12, 2024
(4.5) “We all die. We have only the choice, if we are privileged, of whether death comes with a whimper or a bang; of what worlds we taste before we go.� A real step up from How Much of These Hills Is Gold, which I read for book club last year � while it was interesting to see the queer, BIPOC spin Zhang put on the traditional Western, I found her Booker-longlisted debut bleak and strange in such a detached way that it was hard to care about. By contrast, I was fully involved in her sensuous and speculative second novel.
A 29-year-old Chinese American chef is exiled when the USA closes its borders while she’s working in London. On a smog-covered planet where 98% of crops have failed, scarcity reigns � but there is a world apart, a mountaintop settlement at the Italian border where money can buy any ingredient desired and threatened foods are cultivated in a laboratory setting. While peasants survive on mung bean flour, wealthy backers indulge in classic French cuisine. The narrator’s job is to produce lavish, evocative multi-course meals to bring investors on board. Foie gras, oysters, fine wines; heirloom vegetables; fruits not seen for years. But also endangered creatures and mystery meat wrested back from extinction. Her employer’s 21-year-old daughter, Aida, oversees the lab where these rarities are kept alive.
Ironically, surrounded with such delicacies, the chef loses her appetite for all but cigarettes � yet another hunger takes over. Her relationship with Aida is a passionate secret made all the more peculiar by the fact that the chef’s other role is to impersonate Aida’s dead mother, Eun-Young. It’s clear this precarious setup can’t last; ambition and technology keep moving on. The novel presents such a striking picture of desire at the end of the world. Each sentence is honed to flawlessness, with whole paragraphs of fulsome descriptions of meals. Zhang’s prose reminded me of Stephanie Danler’s and R.O. Kwon’s � no surprise, then, that they’re on the Acknowledgments list, as are a cornucopia of foods and other literary influences.
I’m not usually one for a dystopian novel, but the emotional territory keeps this one grounded even as the plot grows more sinister. My only complaint is that I would have left off the final chapter as I don’t think tracing the protagonist through four more decades of life adds much. I would rather have left this world in limbo than thought of the episode as a blip in a facile regeneration process � that’s the most unrealistic element of all. But this was still my favourite read from the Carol Shields Prize longlist. (And there’s even a faithful pet cat, a “recalcitrant beast� that keeps coming back to the chef despite benign neglect.)
Originally published on my blog, .
A 29-year-old Chinese American chef is exiled when the USA closes its borders while she’s working in London. On a smog-covered planet where 98% of crops have failed, scarcity reigns � but there is a world apart, a mountaintop settlement at the Italian border where money can buy any ingredient desired and threatened foods are cultivated in a laboratory setting. While peasants survive on mung bean flour, wealthy backers indulge in classic French cuisine. The narrator’s job is to produce lavish, evocative multi-course meals to bring investors on board. Foie gras, oysters, fine wines; heirloom vegetables; fruits not seen for years. But also endangered creatures and mystery meat wrested back from extinction. Her employer’s 21-year-old daughter, Aida, oversees the lab where these rarities are kept alive.
Ironically, surrounded with such delicacies, the chef loses her appetite for all but cigarettes � yet another hunger takes over. Her relationship with Aida is a passionate secret made all the more peculiar by the fact that the chef’s other role is to impersonate Aida’s dead mother, Eun-Young. It’s clear this precarious setup can’t last; ambition and technology keep moving on. The novel presents such a striking picture of desire at the end of the world. Each sentence is honed to flawlessness, with whole paragraphs of fulsome descriptions of meals. Zhang’s prose reminded me of Stephanie Danler’s and R.O. Kwon’s � no surprise, then, that they’re on the Acknowledgments list, as are a cornucopia of foods and other literary influences.
I’m not usually one for a dystopian novel, but the emotional territory keeps this one grounded even as the plot grows more sinister. My only complaint is that I would have left off the final chapter as I don’t think tracing the protagonist through four more decades of life adds much. I would rather have left this world in limbo than thought of the episode as a blip in a facile regeneration process � that’s the most unrealistic element of all. But this was still my favourite read from the Carol Shields Prize longlist. (And there’s even a faithful pet cat, a “recalcitrant beast� that keeps coming back to the chef despite benign neglect.)
Originally published on my blog, .
June 13, 2023
This is a very different book to "How Much of these Hills is Gold" (which I loved). However it is still as much of a challenging read.
Set in a future where a smog has descended over so much of the world that it has meant a total disruption to the food chain. Humans are subsisting on bean flours, food is bland and tasteless. A chef sees a way out. In her desire to cook real ingredients again she lies to get a job in the Land of Milk and Honey (so named by its owner - a billionaire - who has bought a secret location and hired the world's experts to fix the smog if only in that one place).
However as she begins her job she finds that the job is not what it seems. She becomes friends (then more) with the billionaire's daughter who tells her the land's secrets.
So how far is she prepared to go to cook beautiful fresh food again and what are the secret future plans for the elite colonists?
This is an intriguing novel which certainly gives you pause for thought. However dystopian the novel is, it never leaves you feeling utterly without hope. C Pam Zhang is certainly a unique voice. I'm intrigued to know where she goes next.
Thanks to Netgalley for the advance review copy.
Set in a future where a smog has descended over so much of the world that it has meant a total disruption to the food chain. Humans are subsisting on bean flours, food is bland and tasteless. A chef sees a way out. In her desire to cook real ingredients again she lies to get a job in the Land of Milk and Honey (so named by its owner - a billionaire - who has bought a secret location and hired the world's experts to fix the smog if only in that one place).
However as she begins her job she finds that the job is not what it seems. She becomes friends (then more) with the billionaire's daughter who tells her the land's secrets.
So how far is she prepared to go to cook beautiful fresh food again and what are the secret future plans for the elite colonists?
This is an intriguing novel which certainly gives you pause for thought. However dystopian the novel is, it never leaves you feeling utterly without hope. C Pam Zhang is certainly a unique voice. I'm intrigued to know where she goes next.
Thanks to Netgalley for the advance review copy.
July 9, 2023
DNF at 50%.
Set in a near-future dystopia where the vast majority of crops and animals have died out, a chef is recruited to a mysterious mountain colony where scientific progress has made the most rare foodstuffs available once again.
This wasn’t really for me. It felt quite cold and emotionless, and I couldn’t find a way into the story. Characters lack depth or much personality, and the dystopian world was difficult to believe. So much of the prose is bogged down with descriptions of food, the excesses of the rich, and I found it really grating and dull to read through.
I think this will find its audience - fans of dystopian fiction will likely find more to enjoy in the premise and world-building here - and C Pam Zhang is clearly a talented author. Unfortunately, I just couldn’t become at all invested in the world, and didn’t feel any real intrigue in the plot, so decided not to continue past 50%.
Many thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for an e-ARC in exchange for an honest review.
Set in a near-future dystopia where the vast majority of crops and animals have died out, a chef is recruited to a mysterious mountain colony where scientific progress has made the most rare foodstuffs available once again.
This wasn’t really for me. It felt quite cold and emotionless, and I couldn’t find a way into the story. Characters lack depth or much personality, and the dystopian world was difficult to believe. So much of the prose is bogged down with descriptions of food, the excesses of the rich, and I found it really grating and dull to read through.
I think this will find its audience - fans of dystopian fiction will likely find more to enjoy in the premise and world-building here - and C Pam Zhang is clearly a talented author. Unfortunately, I just couldn’t become at all invested in the world, and didn’t feel any real intrigue in the plot, so decided not to continue past 50%.
Many thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for an e-ARC in exchange for an honest review.
April 5, 2023
10/5 stars. This book knocked my socks off. So so so so so amazing! Just read it.
Starred review for Booklist.
Starred review for Booklist.
October 29, 2023
My usual place to start when I begin a new book is at the end. Not the ending but the Acknowledgements, Author’s Notes, and/or About the author. Here, the Acknowledgements are the most unique I’ve seen. The author lists specific foods and where she ate them. She also does the usual mention of specific people and institutions. But it’s a list and all the items are jumbled with no categorization. They’re all equally acknowledged.
While this book is based on a dystopian premise, its relevance and foundation in today’s reality is immediate. Climate change and the hubris of decisionmakers, the rich, and the clueless led to the need for an escape and the resultant aspiration of a utopia.
Here, the mountain in Italy serves as some Mar-a-Lago, where the main character, a Korean-Chinese American woman, becomes the chef, wooing current and new residents with foods that will soften them to invest in said utopian pursuits. There is an “Elon Musk� type character: ultra-rich and fancies playing God. He, like some IRL super-rich, builds a utopia with thick walls and is driven by elitism. Despite his own Romani roots (or because of them), he exerts some racist fantasy by enlisting the newly-hired chef to fill a role, attempting to mask his own failures and insecurities.
Interestingly, the construction and presence of this protected mountain space (for those who can afford it) spurs nativist reactions.
The writing is beautiful: poetic and affecting. Just gorgeous. I was in awe and sighed so often—in wonderment at how she crafted language to evoke and to lure me to some other place or mood. (Note her use of punctuation, what we called "dangling clauses/phrases," and italicization.)
The book carried me through a journey--one that had emotional and psychological depths.
I like to think of this title in conversation with her first book, . There are some very unique parallels. And the two titles are bookends.
I will continue to enjoy Zhang's artistry and heartly recommend this book.
Several quotes:
The kitchen was the room most loved by light. Sun streamed down and made the white appliances one continuous pour of milk. I wanted to lick it; I settled for touch. I strummed the marble counters and turned dials on the twelve-range stove. And when I ran a hand over the backsplash I discovered under my fingers ivory suede, an insane material, impossible to clean, but so plush it held my imprint�.
The shortcakes came whispering from the oven, pale mounds, uncompromised. I slipped fingers into their heat. Outside the grass was scant and dead and below my pane of mountain sky, smog clung to the lowlands like scum on stock, one unending gray season.
…Above me the stars were white ashes scattered over the burnt-black sky. The yolk of the moon throbbed, broken. Never had everything seemed so close and so far.
…Water spangled the arid walls of my soul and I laughed.
It has always been easy to disappear as an Asian woman. You people. The number of times I've been mistaken for Japanese or Korean or Lao women decades older or younger, several shades darker or lighter, for my own mother once I hit puberty. You people, said the eyes of the annoyed barista who pushed the coffee I hadn’t ordered into my hand, insisting we just spoken, that I wanted double espresso, low-fat milk. You people! cried the teens at LAX who insisted on taking my photo, certain they snagged a K-pop star in disguise�.
My employer nodded across the table when he saw that I grasped his meaning. The woman I was to become was not a whole person at all. She was a hollow, a receptacle, a mirror held at a flattering angle. We understood each other: he, too, was not quite whole.
His psychological acuity surprised me. My employer was attuned to the patterns of human behavior in which he could not take part; because he failed to be swept up in their currents, he could, from his remove, map the tides.
My employer’s investigators provided the tools, but it was my hand that pried from each diner's the particular soft, wet muscle of their greatest desire, their greatest regret.
June, July, were lost months. A breeze swept down over Europe, a polar vortex by way of the Arctic Circle that rendered mornings misty, diaphanous, the sky a soft veil behind which I split.
�.Through lunch meat and cold rice, Oreos snuck out of school in a napkin, past pickles flaccid beside jars of jelly and peanut butter. All my puny harvest. I don't know what I want until I taste it. Hours later I wake to the sound of my mother coming home from work. Her low voice. Her tired tread. Her face is dim, the kitchen too, but day breaks in our single window as she eats the breakfast I have made from what she made me, and her face: it dawns: the horizon I have never seen: I see: my mother knows pleasure. Hard-won, deep-buried, scraped from the dark of need, hers is a pleasure I find by seeking my own. I was raised to eat bitterness.
While this book is based on a dystopian premise, its relevance and foundation in today’s reality is immediate. Climate change and the hubris of decisionmakers, the rich, and the clueless led to the need for an escape and the resultant aspiration of a utopia.
Here, the mountain in Italy serves as some Mar-a-Lago, where the main character, a Korean-Chinese American woman, becomes the chef, wooing current and new residents with foods that will soften them to invest in said utopian pursuits. There is an “Elon Musk� type character: ultra-rich and fancies playing God. He, like some IRL super-rich, builds a utopia with thick walls and is driven by elitism. Despite his own Romani roots (or because of them), he exerts some racist fantasy by enlisting the newly-hired chef to fill a role, attempting to mask his own failures and insecurities.
Interestingly, the construction and presence of this protected mountain space (for those who can afford it) spurs nativist reactions.
The writing is beautiful: poetic and affecting. Just gorgeous. I was in awe and sighed so often—in wonderment at how she crafted language to evoke and to lure me to some other place or mood. (Note her use of punctuation, what we called "dangling clauses/phrases," and italicization.)
The book carried me through a journey--one that had emotional and psychological depths.
I like to think of this title in conversation with her first book, . There are some very unique parallels. And the two titles are bookends.
I will continue to enjoy Zhang's artistry and heartly recommend this book.
Several quotes:
The kitchen was the room most loved by light. Sun streamed down and made the white appliances one continuous pour of milk. I wanted to lick it; I settled for touch. I strummed the marble counters and turned dials on the twelve-range stove. And when I ran a hand over the backsplash I discovered under my fingers ivory suede, an insane material, impossible to clean, but so plush it held my imprint�.
The shortcakes came whispering from the oven, pale mounds, uncompromised. I slipped fingers into their heat. Outside the grass was scant and dead and below my pane of mountain sky, smog clung to the lowlands like scum on stock, one unending gray season.
…Above me the stars were white ashes scattered over the burnt-black sky. The yolk of the moon throbbed, broken. Never had everything seemed so close and so far.
…Water spangled the arid walls of my soul and I laughed.
It has always been easy to disappear as an Asian woman. You people. The number of times I've been mistaken for Japanese or Korean or Lao women decades older or younger, several shades darker or lighter, for my own mother once I hit puberty. You people, said the eyes of the annoyed barista who pushed the coffee I hadn’t ordered into my hand, insisting we just spoken, that I wanted double espresso, low-fat milk. You people! cried the teens at LAX who insisted on taking my photo, certain they snagged a K-pop star in disguise�.
My employer nodded across the table when he saw that I grasped his meaning. The woman I was to become was not a whole person at all. She was a hollow, a receptacle, a mirror held at a flattering angle. We understood each other: he, too, was not quite whole.
His psychological acuity surprised me. My employer was attuned to the patterns of human behavior in which he could not take part; because he failed to be swept up in their currents, he could, from his remove, map the tides.
My employer’s investigators provided the tools, but it was my hand that pried from each diner's the particular soft, wet muscle of their greatest desire, their greatest regret.
June, July, were lost months. A breeze swept down over Europe, a polar vortex by way of the Arctic Circle that rendered mornings misty, diaphanous, the sky a soft veil behind which I split.
�.Through lunch meat and cold rice, Oreos snuck out of school in a napkin, past pickles flaccid beside jars of jelly and peanut butter. All my puny harvest. I don't know what I want until I taste it. Hours later I wake to the sound of my mother coming home from work. Her low voice. Her tired tread. Her face is dim, the kitchen too, but day breaks in our single window as she eats the breakfast I have made from what she made me, and her face: it dawns: the horizon I have never seen: I see: my mother knows pleasure. Hard-won, deep-buried, scraped from the dark of need, hers is a pleasure I find by seeking my own. I was raised to eat bitterness.
November 26, 2023
I'm of not two but of several minds regarding this one. Compared to other novels dealing with environmental collapse, which are mostly focused on the visual with aural coming close second, Zhang here focuses on the gustatory with an unrelenting commitment - I expected cannibalism at one point. It is an interesting premise, to pay attention to the tastes that disappear with the extinction of plants and animals, to what becomes edible in what way and for whom. Portraying the circulation of taste, Zhang maps the class all the way up to the hyper-rich, and in a particularly gruesome scene their tastescape turns every bit disgusting as they generally are. The ending of the novel, though - it's commendable that Zhang offers a positive outlook not grounded in the delusions of the West Coast tech discourse, but it feels too deus ex machina-y and way too optimistic for my liking.
December 28, 2023
I don’t want to be mean, but the start of the book was interesting and then it went downhill. It got messy, and it was just really hard to get through.
The descriptions of food were elaborate to the point of excess, not to mention it’s hard to imagine the delicacies of food when 90% of the descriptors are ingredients outside majority of our tax brackets� or just straight up icky (wooly mammoth anyone?).
I also just didn’t get the book. I did pick up some underlying themes, yes, but I will 100% forget about this book and anything that happened as soon as I finish this review. Maybe I’m just not brainy enough for this type of book, and it was so convoluted and then rushed at the end that it just left me confused. :/
The descriptions of food were elaborate to the point of excess, not to mention it’s hard to imagine the delicacies of food when 90% of the descriptors are ingredients outside majority of our tax brackets� or just straight up icky (wooly mammoth anyone?).
I also just didn’t get the book. I did pick up some underlying themes, yes, but I will 100% forget about this book and anything that happened as soon as I finish this review. Maybe I’m just not brainy enough for this type of book, and it was so convoluted and then rushed at the end that it just left me confused. :/
October 11, 2023
I had previously read Zhang’s debut, How Much of These Hills Is Gold, which I enjoyed very much, so I looked forward to reading her second novel. Land of Milk and Honey is very different. It is set in a dystopian future in which dense smog has descended over much of the world, causing the extinction of a large number of species of plants and animals. The unnamed narrator is an Asian chef who has lived in the US but has relocated abroad. She must cook with very basic and unappetizing ingredients and wants a change. The US borders have been closed, so instead of returning, she applies for a work as a private chef at a closed community on the top of a mountain on the border of France and Italy. She “enhances� her resume to appeal to the new employer and gets the job.
This closed community is financed by a set of wealthy investors. The mysterious employer and his scientist daughter have recreated lost species and created new ones. They have access to an abundance of resources, which are unavailable to the masses. The narrator employs her culinary skills to create a wide variety of dishes for the employer’s daily guests. She is also asked to take the role of his deceased wife at the dinner table. The storyline is one of food and many types of appetites.
It is an unusual take on the theme of climate change and its impact on the food supply. There are many moving parts in this novel. It explores greed, selfishness, pleasures, shifts in identity, class, and psychological manipulation. The first half of this book is very well set up and it immediately drew me in. I think it lost its way in the second half, and the last few chapters seemed like a very long epilogue. It introduced new characters and covered a lot of territory in very little depth. So, after a promising beginning, it ended up a mixed bag. I will definitely read more from this author, but I liked her first book more than this one.
This closed community is financed by a set of wealthy investors. The mysterious employer and his scientist daughter have recreated lost species and created new ones. They have access to an abundance of resources, which are unavailable to the masses. The narrator employs her culinary skills to create a wide variety of dishes for the employer’s daily guests. She is also asked to take the role of his deceased wife at the dinner table. The storyline is one of food and many types of appetites.
It is an unusual take on the theme of climate change and its impact on the food supply. There are many moving parts in this novel. It explores greed, selfishness, pleasures, shifts in identity, class, and psychological manipulation. The first half of this book is very well set up and it immediately drew me in. I think it lost its way in the second half, and the last few chapters seemed like a very long epilogue. It introduced new characters and covered a lot of territory in very little depth. So, after a promising beginning, it ended up a mixed bag. I will definitely read more from this author, but I liked her first book more than this one.
Read
January 31, 2024Not sure that it is fair to rate this. I would not have chosen it, certainly not finished it, if I had not been reading it for a book club.
It’s a dystopian novel, set in the very near future when a smog, originating in Iowa, has spread around the world, causing crops to fail. The main character, a young chef, is marooned in Europe when the United States closes its borders. Chef takes a job with a billionaire who has a colony above the smog in the Italian Alps; she is soon preparing all sorts of French sauces and exotic foods from the meat and crops that are now only available to the super wealthy.
Most characters, including the chef, are nameless. I never connected with or believed in the plausibility of these characters or the plot. I did enjoy listening to an NPR interview with author and could then understand a bit of what she was trying to do in the novel. But, still, it was a frustrating reading experience for me.
It’s a dystopian novel, set in the very near future when a smog, originating in Iowa, has spread around the world, causing crops to fail. The main character, a young chef, is marooned in Europe when the United States closes its borders. Chef takes a job with a billionaire who has a colony above the smog in the Italian Alps; she is soon preparing all sorts of French sauces and exotic foods from the meat and crops that are now only available to the super wealthy.
Most characters, including the chef, are nameless. I never connected with or believed in the plausibility of these characters or the plot. I did enjoy listening to an NPR interview with author and could then understand a bit of what she was trying to do in the novel. But, still, it was a frustrating reading experience for me.
February 9, 2024
Mein Gott, was kann diese Autorin Bilder zeichnen mit ihrer Sprache 😱 Ähnlich überwältigend, wie in ihrem Debüt, das für mich ein Highlight war.
Allerdings lässt mich diese Geschichte auch mit vielen Fragezeichen zurück.
Es ist eine dystopische Welt, in die uns C Pam Zhang mit dieser Geschichte führt:
Die Welt versinkt im Smog, nur auf den höchsten Berggipfeln gibt es noch Sonnenlicht und Natur. Die Menschheit ernährt sich von gentechnisch hergestelltem Brot. Es gibt wenig Biodiversität, und diese nimmt ständig und rasant ab. Die Tiere sterben aus, Nutzpflanzen wachsen einfach nicht mehr.
Unsere Protagonisten nimmt eine Stelle als Köchin auf einer Gipfel-Forschungsstation an. Sie kocht für ihren Arbeitgeber, seine Tochter und diverse hochrangige politische Gäste Menüs des Überflusses. Hier ist es noch: das Land, wo Milch und Honig fließt. Der biblische Bezug kommt nicht von ungefähr. Alle sehnen sich nach Sicherheit, nach Genuss, nach der guten alten Zeit. Schnell wird klar, dass dieser Überfluss nicht ohne einen Preis daherkommt. Wir tauchen mit der Protagonist immer tiefer in einen Strudel aus Gier, dunklen Machenschaften, naturwissenschaftlicher Forschung, Korruption, und Wissensdurst.
Diese Welt, möchte ich persönlich niemals erleben. Ab einem bestimmten Punkt, nimmt die Geschichte aber eine dramatische Wendung und das Leben unserer Protagonistin gleich mit.
Hat für mich diese Geschichte stark begonnen, habe ich in der Mitte des Buches so einige Seiten als Längen empfunden. Erst zum Schluss, konnte mich die Autorin wieder richtig begeistern. Leider ist der Schlussteil sehr kurz gehalten, da hätte ich gerne viel tiefer geblickt und die einzelnen Phasen ihres Lebens deutlicher mitbekommen, statt sie nur in Kurzzusammenfassung erzählt zu bekommen. Von daher passte die Gewichtung der Erzählstränge für mich in dieser Geschichte leider nicht.
Ich habe mir die Frage gestellt: Möchte ich so leben? Wie lässt sich auch im Kleinen helfen, diese Zukunftsvision zu vermeiden?
Ein äußerst Weltpolitik-kritisierender Roman, der nachdenklich stimmt und sprachlich herausragend sinnlich daherkommt.
Allerdings lässt mich diese Geschichte auch mit vielen Fragezeichen zurück.
Es ist eine dystopische Welt, in die uns C Pam Zhang mit dieser Geschichte führt:
Die Welt versinkt im Smog, nur auf den höchsten Berggipfeln gibt es noch Sonnenlicht und Natur. Die Menschheit ernährt sich von gentechnisch hergestelltem Brot. Es gibt wenig Biodiversität, und diese nimmt ständig und rasant ab. Die Tiere sterben aus, Nutzpflanzen wachsen einfach nicht mehr.
Unsere Protagonisten nimmt eine Stelle als Köchin auf einer Gipfel-Forschungsstation an. Sie kocht für ihren Arbeitgeber, seine Tochter und diverse hochrangige politische Gäste Menüs des Überflusses. Hier ist es noch: das Land, wo Milch und Honig fließt. Der biblische Bezug kommt nicht von ungefähr. Alle sehnen sich nach Sicherheit, nach Genuss, nach der guten alten Zeit. Schnell wird klar, dass dieser Überfluss nicht ohne einen Preis daherkommt. Wir tauchen mit der Protagonist immer tiefer in einen Strudel aus Gier, dunklen Machenschaften, naturwissenschaftlicher Forschung, Korruption, und Wissensdurst.
Diese Welt, möchte ich persönlich niemals erleben. Ab einem bestimmten Punkt, nimmt die Geschichte aber eine dramatische Wendung und das Leben unserer Protagonistin gleich mit.
Hat für mich diese Geschichte stark begonnen, habe ich in der Mitte des Buches so einige Seiten als Längen empfunden. Erst zum Schluss, konnte mich die Autorin wieder richtig begeistern. Leider ist der Schlussteil sehr kurz gehalten, da hätte ich gerne viel tiefer geblickt und die einzelnen Phasen ihres Lebens deutlicher mitbekommen, statt sie nur in Kurzzusammenfassung erzählt zu bekommen. Von daher passte die Gewichtung der Erzählstränge für mich in dieser Geschichte leider nicht.
Ich habe mir die Frage gestellt: Möchte ich so leben? Wie lässt sich auch im Kleinen helfen, diese Zukunftsvision zu vermeiden?
Ein äußerst Weltpolitik-kritisierender Roman, der nachdenklich stimmt und sprachlich herausragend sinnlich daherkommt.
September 28, 2023
Land of Milk and Honey is the slightly speculative novel I crave and I have been waiting for this one for months. We start with an understanding that the world has become covered in smog and food cannot grow. Our protagonist, a chef, lands a mysterious job cooking haute cuisine in a "utopia" amidst the state of the world. An elite research community at the Italian/French border has found the only place still blessed by sunlight. Funded by private investors, they bioengineer food crops that can withstand the smog. Our chef begins strange interactions with her new boss and his daughter and the reader is left questioning what the heck is going on here. We soon realize things aren't what they seem and eagerly await the truth.
C Pam Zhang's writing is a challenge for me, in a good way. Her syntax often has me pause and stare at it a bit... and then just marvel. This exploration of ethics, privilege, desire, and greed made me feel all the things: rage, awe, doom, wonder, and yes...hunger (and sometimes revulsion). The ending made me wonder if Zhang is a bit prophetic with a certain event but also felt abrupt and a bit neat.
4.25 stars
C Pam Zhang's writing is a challenge for me, in a good way. Her syntax often has me pause and stare at it a bit... and then just marvel. This exploration of ethics, privilege, desire, and greed made me feel all the things: rage, awe, doom, wonder, and yes...hunger (and sometimes revulsion). The ending made me wonder if Zhang is a bit prophetic with a certain event but also felt abrupt and a bit neat.
4.25 stars
November 5, 2023
like if sweetbitter fucked station eleven. a testament to how the drive for pleasure prevails no matter what, no matter how bleak or adverse the circumstances, and can be bent towards good or evil but is in and of itself just another hunger that never goes away. very angry at the present but unwilling to give up on the future. argues that curiosity about the world is the only true cure to anhedonia. devastating and sometimes very funny. the luckiest possible thing: A Book Made For Me As I Am Now.
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