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Apron Strings: Navigating Food and Family in France, Italy, and China
Jan Wong knows food is better when shared, so when she set out to write a book about home cooking in France, Italy, and China, she asked her 22-year-old son, Sam, to join her. While he wasn't keen on spending excessive time with his mom, he dreamed of becoming a chef. Ultimately, it was an opportunity he couldn't pass up.
On their journey, Jan and Sam live and cook with locals, seeing first-hand how globalization is changing food, families, and cultures. In southeast France, they move in with a family sheltering undocumented migrants. From Bernadette, the housekeeper, they learn classic French family fare such as blanquette de veau. In a hamlet in the heart of Italy's Slow Food country, the villagers teach them without fuss or fanfare how to make authentic spaghetti alle vongole and a proper risotto with leeks. In Shanghai, they home-cook firecracker chicken and scallion pancakes with the nouveaux riches and their migrant maids, who comprise one of the biggest demographic shift in world history. Along the way, mother and son explore their sometimes-fraught relationship, uniting -- and occasionally clashing -- over their mutual love of cooking.
A memoir about family, an exploration of the globalization of food cultures, and a meditation on the complicated relationships between mothers and sons, Apron Strings is complex, unpredictable, and unexpectedly hilarious.
On their journey, Jan and Sam live and cook with locals, seeing first-hand how globalization is changing food, families, and cultures. In southeast France, they move in with a family sheltering undocumented migrants. From Bernadette, the housekeeper, they learn classic French family fare such as blanquette de veau. In a hamlet in the heart of Italy's Slow Food country, the villagers teach them without fuss or fanfare how to make authentic spaghetti alle vongole and a proper risotto with leeks. In Shanghai, they home-cook firecracker chicken and scallion pancakes with the nouveaux riches and their migrant maids, who comprise one of the biggest demographic shift in world history. Along the way, mother and son explore their sometimes-fraught relationship, uniting -- and occasionally clashing -- over their mutual love of cooking.
A memoir about family, an exploration of the globalization of food cultures, and a meditation on the complicated relationships between mothers and sons, Apron Strings is complex, unpredictable, and unexpectedly hilarious.
380 pages, Paperback
Published September 12, 2017
10 people are currently reading
277 people want to read
About the author
Jan Wong
16books67followersJan Wong was the much-acclaimed Beijing correspondent for The Globe and Mail from 1988 to 1994. She is a graduate of McGill University, Beijing University and the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism. She is the recipient of a (US) George Polk Award, the New England Women’s Press Association Newswoman of the Year Award, the (Canadian) National Newspaper Award and a Lowell Thomas Travel Journalism Silver Medal, among other honours for her reporting. Wong has also written for The New York Times, The Gazette in Montreal, The Boston Globe and The Wall Street Journal.
Her first book, Red China Blues: My Long March From Mao to Now, was named one of Time magazine’s top ten books of 1996 and remains banned in China. It has been translated into Swedish, Finnish, Dutch and Japanese, and optioned for a feature film.
Jan Wong is a third-generation Canadian, born and raised in Montreal. She first went to China in 1972 at the height of the Cultural Revolution as one of only two Westerners permitted to enrol at Beijing University. There, she renounced rock music, wielded a pneumatic drill at a factory and hauled pig manure in the paddy fields. She also met and married the only American draft dodger from the Vietnam War in China. During those six years in China, she learned fluent Mandarin and earned a degree in Chinese history.
From 1988 to 1994, Jan Wong returned as China correspondent for The Globe and Mail. In reporting on the tumultuous new era of capitalist reforms under Deng Xiaoping, she reacquainted herself with old friends and enemies from her radical past. In 1989, she dodged bullets in Tiananmen Square, fought off a kidnapping attempt and caught the Chinese police red-handed driving her stolen Toyota as a squad car. (They gave it back.)
She returned to China in 1999 to make a documentary and to research her second book, Jan Wong’s China: Reports from a Not-So-Foreign Correspondent. It tells the story of China’s headlong rush to capitalism and offers fresh insight into a country that is forever changing.
Jan Wong lives with her husband and two sons in Toronto where she is a reporter at The Globe and Mail. The best of her weekly celebrity-interview columns, “Lunch With,� which ran for five years, have been published in a book of the same name.
[From Random House's ]
Her first book, Red China Blues: My Long March From Mao to Now, was named one of Time magazine’s top ten books of 1996 and remains banned in China. It has been translated into Swedish, Finnish, Dutch and Japanese, and optioned for a feature film.
Jan Wong is a third-generation Canadian, born and raised in Montreal. She first went to China in 1972 at the height of the Cultural Revolution as one of only two Westerners permitted to enrol at Beijing University. There, she renounced rock music, wielded a pneumatic drill at a factory and hauled pig manure in the paddy fields. She also met and married the only American draft dodger from the Vietnam War in China. During those six years in China, she learned fluent Mandarin and earned a degree in Chinese history.
From 1988 to 1994, Jan Wong returned as China correspondent for The Globe and Mail. In reporting on the tumultuous new era of capitalist reforms under Deng Xiaoping, she reacquainted herself with old friends and enemies from her radical past. In 1989, she dodged bullets in Tiananmen Square, fought off a kidnapping attempt and caught the Chinese police red-handed driving her stolen Toyota as a squad car. (They gave it back.)
She returned to China in 1999 to make a documentary and to research her second book, Jan Wong’s China: Reports from a Not-So-Foreign Correspondent. It tells the story of China’s headlong rush to capitalism and offers fresh insight into a country that is forever changing.
Jan Wong lives with her husband and two sons in Toronto where she is a reporter at The Globe and Mail. The best of her weekly celebrity-interview columns, “Lunch With,� which ran for five years, have been published in a book of the same name.
[From Random House's ]
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 39 reviews
April 24, 2019
After seeing this author speak at One Book One Brant, I really enjoyed reading this combination of the authors experience mixed with a bit of history and a few recipes from each country she visited. It must have been such a great experience travelling to France, Italy and China with her son, staying with locals and learning how to cook with residents of each country. I look forward to trying a few recipes... maybe not the pigeon!!
September 25, 2017
The book is often charming. The particular households they lived in and cooked with in France, Italy and China were rather random -- apparently it was whoever they knew or had some connection who knew them. So it's impossible to know how typical these households & families were, but that doesn't really matter. Jan gives us a pretty good picture of what it was like in each of the families' homes and kitchens, the people as well as the cooking and eating. Jan and Sam seem to have connected most closely with the French family, and somewhat less closely with the Italians. The Chinese families were the least sympathetic: all nouveau riche and very mean to their servants. They seem to have treated Jan and Sam as an amalgam of guest and servant, even expecting Sam to get up early each morning to cook breakfast for their children before the chauffeur drove them to school..
This is not a book to read unless you want to read constantly about food, food preparation, and eating. There are some recipes but this is not mainly a recipe book.
Jan also gives us some glimpses into her mother-son relationship with 22-year old Sam, and her bittersweet feelings about leaving him in northern China on his own (at university) to study Mandarin at the end of their trip.
And she includes an Afterward to fill us in on some of the subsequent events in the lives of the people we met. And a very nice, long list of acknowledgements to everyone who helped, from their hosts in the three countries through to all the layers of editors who helped bring the book to fruition.
This is not a book to read unless you want to read constantly about food, food preparation, and eating. There are some recipes but this is not mainly a recipe book.
Jan also gives us some glimpses into her mother-son relationship with 22-year old Sam, and her bittersweet feelings about leaving him in northern China on his own (at university) to study Mandarin at the end of their trip.
And she includes an Afterward to fill us in on some of the subsequent events in the lives of the people we met. And a very nice, long list of acknowledgements to everyone who helped, from their hosts in the three countries through to all the layers of editors who helped bring the book to fruition.
December 8, 2022
An interesting spin on a food travelog with some really nice recipes and trucs (using an oil cap for tomato paste seems brilliant and I can’t wait to try it). I loved the cultural and historical insights Wong shared in other books and was hoping this would provide a similar experience but with a food & cooking spin. And there were shimmers of it in Apron Strings but not at the same level. I think what bothered me the most were the unflattering takes of people that came across as gossipy and mean. I would have previously called myself a fan of Wong but this book would make me hesitate to say that.
January 10, 2018
Unpleasant
This book is entirely lacking in charm or even purpose. The author does not appear to enjoy either cooking or eating the food, which I thought to be the premise. Instead, she rambles on with sweeping generalizations and shallow insights about the countries she visits, and goes to great lengths to criticize the generous people who opened their homes and families to her. In the process she exposes her own inner ugliness. Shame on her, and shame on her editors and publishers.
This book is entirely lacking in charm or even purpose. The author does not appear to enjoy either cooking or eating the food, which I thought to be the premise. Instead, she rambles on with sweeping generalizations and shallow insights about the countries she visits, and goes to great lengths to criticize the generous people who opened their homes and families to her. In the process she exposes her own inner ugliness. Shame on her, and shame on her editors and publishers.
January 26, 2018
Jan Wong’s trip to France, Italy and Shanghai to learn how to cook real food with real people is exactly the kind of culinary adventure I would love to have (minus Shanghai, those people were effed-up). Jan describes in wonderful detail how she and her son, Sam, lived with complete strangers and transcended language barriers, cultural misunderstandings and food faux pas, to cook delicious meals and learn more about each country’s food culture. From learning that Italians use dried pasta too to the secret for preserving an open can of tomato paste, I found more useful knowledge in Apron Strings than I have studying cookbooks or watching countless hours of the Food Network.
In addition, Jan observes how food plays an important role in bringing French and Italian families together and developing their relationships, while in contrast, good food is reserved for the elite in Shanghai and sitting together for a meal as a family is not as much of a priority as chasing status and obtaining stuff.
Apron Strings was a delightful travelogue with Jan Wong taking on her culinary quest with the same kind of curiousity and Canadian naiveté, I imagine I would have. My one beef (no pun intended) with the book is she provides the recipes for many of the dishes, but there were no pictures. Not one single photo of the food to drool over because I wanted to eat every single dish they described making. Otherwise, I really enjoyed reading about the people Jan and Sam met, the places they visited, and the delicious meals they cooked.
In addition, Jan observes how food plays an important role in bringing French and Italian families together and developing their relationships, while in contrast, good food is reserved for the elite in Shanghai and sitting together for a meal as a family is not as much of a priority as chasing status and obtaining stuff.
Apron Strings was a delightful travelogue with Jan Wong taking on her culinary quest with the same kind of curiousity and Canadian naiveté, I imagine I would have. My one beef (no pun intended) with the book is she provides the recipes for many of the dishes, but there were no pictures. Not one single photo of the food to drool over because I wanted to eat every single dish they described making. Otherwise, I really enjoyed reading about the people Jan and Sam met, the places they visited, and the delicious meals they cooked.
December 18, 2017
Easily the funniest book I've read all year, the admittedly clingy Ms Wong explores the meaning of home, food and family in France, Italy and China, with her 22 year old son. I'd come to this book expecting it to be "just" about food, and found fascinating cultural twists and turns on every page. While food is the focus, and recipes are included, I was equally drawn to digressions into social policies concerning adoption, immigration, real estate values, inheritance and taxation practices, to name just a few. Wong writes with skills honed from a career in journalism and past books such as Red China Blues, now liberally sprinkled with the sort of humor that might come from being free of an editor or concerns about the opinions of others. Usually only children and the very old are capable of speaking with such blunt, comic truth. A fun read for foodies, travelers, and anyone interested in the customs and practices found in other cultures.
November 9, 2017
An adventurous undertaking by Jan Wong which results in an adventurous book about food, cooking, lifestyles and family in France, Italy and China. Very readable, even for someone such as myself who doesn't cook, but enjoys eating. My full review is here:
December 16, 2022
I started this book by reading as an e-book and ended up on the audiobook (at 1.5 speed) half way through to help me along. I was interested enough to finish it, but I’m not a fast reader and with all the thorough details, stories and recipes in this book, I was taking a while and getting impatient. I enjoyed travelling with Jan and her son to France, Italy & China. She’s very candid and shamelessly frank about her interactions with the people who she crossed paths with. I found myself often wondering, “what if they were ever to read this book?!�. Then I would remember� she’s a journalist.
I love travel, food, culture and family dynamics - you get all of those in this book. All with a touch of history too. I enjoyed it and would recommend it if your interested in the food, culture and family dynamics of those three countries. Oh and she’s Canadian too! So there were familiar nods to our homeland.
I love travel, food, culture and family dynamics - you get all of those in this book. All with a touch of history too. I enjoyed it and would recommend it if your interested in the food, culture and family dynamics of those three countries. Oh and she’s Canadian too! So there were familiar nods to our homeland.
February 25, 2018
I loved this book.
November 20, 2018
Apron Strings: Navigating Food and Family in France, Italy, and China is the latest work by Jan Wong, an author whose work I thoroughly love. I read everything she writes. Apron Strings chronicled her experiences travelling with her adult son Sam as they roamed the world, looking for places where they could learn local home cooking in the three countries in the title. The Wongs didn't seek classes they had to enrol in, or registration in a famous culinary institute. Jan and Sam sought live-in arrangements where they would not only share the living spaces but also the kitchens and dining areas with the locals. Through extended networks of friends they managed to find such accommodations in all three places. They also shopped for the food they would cook and as live-in guests--nobody would take a euro or renminbi in payment--they were part of each family, taking part in intimate discussions and doing so with competence in each native language. Although not classed as a cookbook, Wong provided recipes for all the dishes she learned to make or witnessed others make. I even learned a cooking tip on how to prepare fresh mushrooms. I tried it and it worked.
Wong writes exactly as she thinks and this makes her writing seem alive: I feel her wit and often laugh out loud, wrinkle my nose at her dislikes and cringe with each word she put into italics. There were plenty of passages with words in italics; this rendered them thus visually as well as audibly distinct. I could imagine Wong's voice change in inflection as if she were reading her book aloud to me. I never wanted to end a reading session with any of Wong's books, and if I had no time restraints I could read her all day. My notes were full of passages that caused me to laugh out loud and read again. Wong's observances often left her dumbfounded and would make perfect cut-to takes if ever this book was made for television. Read about her encounter with the preeminent French cookbook, Je sais cuisiner by Ginette Mathiot, a giant tome at 773 pages:
"I flipped through the cookbook while Bernadette unwrapped the veal. Among its two thousand recipes were a hundred and twenty-six for sauces alone, everything from sauce à l'abricot to sauce Zingara, and even 'ketchup à la crème.' Each of the hundred veal recipes were only a single paragraph, even for blanquette de veau. Julia Child's nearly four-page recipe for blanquette de veau à l'ancienne made me want to lie down in a darkened room with a damp towel over my forehead. Child's 684-page tome, Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Volume I, would discourage all but the most enthusiastic novices. In contrast, Mathiot's was encouraging. Who couldn't follow one paragraph of instructions? At other homes in France and Italy, I discovered similarly minimalist cookbooks. They presumed a level of technical competency that everyone had learned at their grandmother's knee. Recipes didn't explain how to make a roux. They didn't even provide the correct proportions of flour and fat. They merely said, 'Make a roux.'"
I still laugh as I read this! Classic Jan Wong, that is. Same for her reaction whenever she was served French food. First there is surprise. Then, you deal with it:
"In France, no one asks what dressing you want on your salad--it comes with vinaigrette. French chefs don't care how you'd like your steak cooked--it comes medium rare. When I think back, no one we cooked with in France or Italy or China ever asked whether I disliked anything, whether I was a vegetarian, or whether I was allergic to nuts or gluten or dairy. You ate what was cooked. Those with special needs adapted, including Philomène and Pierre-Marie."
Apron Strings was a delight of culture-shock moments and really, there is no better way to depict this than just by letting Wong's words speak for themselves. The following are all highlights from the text that make me laugh every time:
"I sulked and turned to washing stupid organic lettuce. I say 'stupid' because it was coated in black dirt, which required eight washes before the water ran clean. After that, I vowed to buy only chemically poisoned greens."
About the contrast between what constitutes cooking versus baking:
"When you bake, you measure. You had to sit up straight and pay attention. Thus, I have failed almost every time I attempted to bake a pie or a cake. Once, my cookies stuck to Teflon. I couldn't pry them loose even after I soaked the pan in the sink. The only solution was to throw out the tray, cookies and all."
The best image in the book was the description for a particular vegetable. Even if you had never seen such a cauliflower, you would know exactly what it looked like:
"Bewitched by chartreuse-green peaks resembling an avant-garde architect's take on a Thai temple, Sam bought a Romanesco cauliflower."
On learning about local cuisine in mainland China, Wong realizes that the freshest of meat is not found in a supermarket:
"Some mothers take their sons to natural history museums. I thought Sam should witness a chicken slaughter."
Yet some Chinese cooking traditions are negatively stereotyped and Wong has no patience for them:
"'Chinese Restaurant Syndrome' had been thoroughly debunked. I now roll my eyes and grow uncooperative when Canadian friends ask me to transmit their no-MSG request to Chinese waiters, who of course speak fluent English. Aside from my friends' presumption that I alone can communicate with the waiter, I resent the innuendo that only Chinese food uses MSG. In fact it is in everything from Goldfish crackers to seasoned fries to ranch dressing to the hydrolyzed vegetable protein in fast food."
For more of these zingers and spot-on observances, you'll have to read Apron Strings.
Wong writes exactly as she thinks and this makes her writing seem alive: I feel her wit and often laugh out loud, wrinkle my nose at her dislikes and cringe with each word she put into italics. There were plenty of passages with words in italics; this rendered them thus visually as well as audibly distinct. I could imagine Wong's voice change in inflection as if she were reading her book aloud to me. I never wanted to end a reading session with any of Wong's books, and if I had no time restraints I could read her all day. My notes were full of passages that caused me to laugh out loud and read again. Wong's observances often left her dumbfounded and would make perfect cut-to takes if ever this book was made for television. Read about her encounter with the preeminent French cookbook, Je sais cuisiner by Ginette Mathiot, a giant tome at 773 pages:
"I flipped through the cookbook while Bernadette unwrapped the veal. Among its two thousand recipes were a hundred and twenty-six for sauces alone, everything from sauce à l'abricot to sauce Zingara, and even 'ketchup à la crème.' Each of the hundred veal recipes were only a single paragraph, even for blanquette de veau. Julia Child's nearly four-page recipe for blanquette de veau à l'ancienne made me want to lie down in a darkened room with a damp towel over my forehead. Child's 684-page tome, Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Volume I, would discourage all but the most enthusiastic novices. In contrast, Mathiot's was encouraging. Who couldn't follow one paragraph of instructions? At other homes in France and Italy, I discovered similarly minimalist cookbooks. They presumed a level of technical competency that everyone had learned at their grandmother's knee. Recipes didn't explain how to make a roux. They didn't even provide the correct proportions of flour and fat. They merely said, 'Make a roux.'"
I still laugh as I read this! Classic Jan Wong, that is. Same for her reaction whenever she was served French food. First there is surprise. Then, you deal with it:
"In France, no one asks what dressing you want on your salad--it comes with vinaigrette. French chefs don't care how you'd like your steak cooked--it comes medium rare. When I think back, no one we cooked with in France or Italy or China ever asked whether I disliked anything, whether I was a vegetarian, or whether I was allergic to nuts or gluten or dairy. You ate what was cooked. Those with special needs adapted, including Philomène and Pierre-Marie."
Apron Strings was a delight of culture-shock moments and really, there is no better way to depict this than just by letting Wong's words speak for themselves. The following are all highlights from the text that make me laugh every time:
"I sulked and turned to washing stupid organic lettuce. I say 'stupid' because it was coated in black dirt, which required eight washes before the water ran clean. After that, I vowed to buy only chemically poisoned greens."
About the contrast between what constitutes cooking versus baking:
"When you bake, you measure. You had to sit up straight and pay attention. Thus, I have failed almost every time I attempted to bake a pie or a cake. Once, my cookies stuck to Teflon. I couldn't pry them loose even after I soaked the pan in the sink. The only solution was to throw out the tray, cookies and all."
The best image in the book was the description for a particular vegetable. Even if you had never seen such a cauliflower, you would know exactly what it looked like:
"Bewitched by chartreuse-green peaks resembling an avant-garde architect's take on a Thai temple, Sam bought a Romanesco cauliflower."
On learning about local cuisine in mainland China, Wong realizes that the freshest of meat is not found in a supermarket:
"Some mothers take their sons to natural history museums. I thought Sam should witness a chicken slaughter."
Yet some Chinese cooking traditions are negatively stereotyped and Wong has no patience for them:
"'Chinese Restaurant Syndrome' had been thoroughly debunked. I now roll my eyes and grow uncooperative when Canadian friends ask me to transmit their no-MSG request to Chinese waiters, who of course speak fluent English. Aside from my friends' presumption that I alone can communicate with the waiter, I resent the innuendo that only Chinese food uses MSG. In fact it is in everything from Goldfish crackers to seasoned fries to ranch dressing to the hydrolyzed vegetable protein in fast food."
For more of these zingers and spot-on observances, you'll have to read Apron Strings.
October 19, 2017
Interesting look at the food cultures of France, Italy and China, as seen through several families that Jan Wong and her son visit. Foodies will enjoy this book, but it is also a good look into the modern culture of these places. The inheritance and social welfare laws of France are an eye-opener. In Italy, grown children all seem to be living with their parents. Finally the nouveau-riche in Shanghai are trying to recreate Downton Abbey in their bustling urban housing bubble.
As always, Wong excels in observation and blunt descriptions. One gets worn down from all her shopping expeditions and recipes but others may love this.
As always, Wong excels in observation and blunt descriptions. One gets worn down from all her shopping expeditions and recipes but others may love this.
November 12, 2022
Too long, have to confess that I did not read every word!
May 31, 2018
A multi-talented journalist with an astonishing work history and a current professor of journalism at St. Thomas University, Jan Wong’s writing never disappoints � and Apron Strings was no exception to the norm. By cultivating the humor, sass, and charm that make up her unique voice, Wong brings autobiography and cookbooks together for a delicious non-fiction treat that will make readers laugh, cry, and lick their lips for more.
First things first, let’s get one thing straight; you DO NOT have to be a cook, baker, professional chef, or at all involved with the food industry to appreciate Apron Strings. It’s not just about the food that Wong sampled and learned to make on her travels through France, Italy & China, but about the people whom she meets along the way.
The narrative follows Wong on her sabbatical trip that she took with her son, Sam, to learn about “how politics and globalization [affected] what [people] ate�, whether or not sit-down family dinners were still being practiced, and what counted as “home cooking� in various places around the world. This is not a book that deals with Michelin Star recipes and chefs, but real home cooks and the meals that they prepare for and with their families.
By far, the most vivid aspects of Apron Strings are Wong’s descriptions of the families that she and her son stayed with and all of their various encounters. She describes each and every person in a way which makes the reader feel like they are getting to know them on a personal level; you sympathize with their struggles, laugh at their jokes, and learn a great deal about French, Italian, and Chinese culture through the interactions described.
The reader is truly accompanying Wong on her cultural adventure across these countries, as we get snippets of both their culinary traditions and their community's heritage. The chapters which describe her time in Allex, France, and its surrounding areas were some of the most fascinating, as they provide interesting insight into the impact that WWII and globalization had on France’s industrialist endeavors, as well as random little factoids such as that we owe our thanks to France for essentially inventing canned goods. Each chapter provides the reader with a chance to learn something new, just as the trip provided Wong with the same opportunity.
But, of course, even if the book is about more than just food, it is still very much about food. Readers beware: this is NOT a good book to read on an empty stomach. The dishes described by Wong are all absolutely succulent and will leave you with a rumbling stomach, a watering mouth, and a strong desire to get up and try your chances at replicating them. Fear not! Wong appears to have had the foresight that her book would make readers hungry, for she provides detailed (but still simple) step-by-step recipes for how to replicate most of the book’s dishes.
Above all else, though, Apron Strings is a book about family. Wong is reflecting upon how her children are growing up - and how this may be her last chance to experience a trip like this with her youngest son - and beneath the layers of humor and cuisine, the story is bittersweet. It’s a narrative about how time is fleeting, and it leaves readers with a strong desire to spend time with their family (be it a mother, a father, a grandparent or a child) while the chance to do so is still there.
Clever, inspirational, and absolutely decadent, Apron Strings is another tremendous success for Wong to add to her impressive list of works. This reader gives it a strong 5-star rating and would encourage every foody, book lover, or Jan Wong enthusiast to get a copy right away.
First things first, let’s get one thing straight; you DO NOT have to be a cook, baker, professional chef, or at all involved with the food industry to appreciate Apron Strings. It’s not just about the food that Wong sampled and learned to make on her travels through France, Italy & China, but about the people whom she meets along the way.
The narrative follows Wong on her sabbatical trip that she took with her son, Sam, to learn about “how politics and globalization [affected] what [people] ate�, whether or not sit-down family dinners were still being practiced, and what counted as “home cooking� in various places around the world. This is not a book that deals with Michelin Star recipes and chefs, but real home cooks and the meals that they prepare for and with their families.
By far, the most vivid aspects of Apron Strings are Wong’s descriptions of the families that she and her son stayed with and all of their various encounters. She describes each and every person in a way which makes the reader feel like they are getting to know them on a personal level; you sympathize with their struggles, laugh at their jokes, and learn a great deal about French, Italian, and Chinese culture through the interactions described.
The reader is truly accompanying Wong on her cultural adventure across these countries, as we get snippets of both their culinary traditions and their community's heritage. The chapters which describe her time in Allex, France, and its surrounding areas were some of the most fascinating, as they provide interesting insight into the impact that WWII and globalization had on France’s industrialist endeavors, as well as random little factoids such as that we owe our thanks to France for essentially inventing canned goods. Each chapter provides the reader with a chance to learn something new, just as the trip provided Wong with the same opportunity.
But, of course, even if the book is about more than just food, it is still very much about food. Readers beware: this is NOT a good book to read on an empty stomach. The dishes described by Wong are all absolutely succulent and will leave you with a rumbling stomach, a watering mouth, and a strong desire to get up and try your chances at replicating them. Fear not! Wong appears to have had the foresight that her book would make readers hungry, for she provides detailed (but still simple) step-by-step recipes for how to replicate most of the book’s dishes.
Above all else, though, Apron Strings is a book about family. Wong is reflecting upon how her children are growing up - and how this may be her last chance to experience a trip like this with her youngest son - and beneath the layers of humor and cuisine, the story is bittersweet. It’s a narrative about how time is fleeting, and it leaves readers with a strong desire to spend time with their family (be it a mother, a father, a grandparent or a child) while the chance to do so is still there.
Clever, inspirational, and absolutely decadent, Apron Strings is another tremendous success for Wong to add to her impressive list of works. This reader gives it a strong 5-star rating and would encourage every foody, book lover, or Jan Wong enthusiast to get a copy right away.
July 16, 2023
Another book that I've had on my to-read shelf for years until I saw it was on sale and available at a used library shop. I was super curious about this journey where Wong and her son Sam travel around France, Italy, and China and speak with local people and people they know about the cuisine, how the march of time, globalization, etc. all change how we prepare, eat and think about food.
This is definitely more in the "memoir" category with few recipes, few pictures and lots of descriptions of food, food preparation, eating and the people they meet along the way. It is also a specific book in the sense that Wong was not out to do any sort of scientific or historical study and that the people she writes about appear to have some connection or relationship to her or her family, etc. Which is fine, but if the reader is going into this book thinking it is going to be some sort of study or is something beyond the author's experiences, that is not it.
I do agree with a lot of the criticisms: sometimes the book is really repetitive. Depending on your lane, you may enjoy hearing more about the people Wong visited, or you may be disappointed that it is not filled with recipes and gorgeous food pictures which is another way this book may have gone. Wong does add an afterword, discussing a little bit about the people she writes about in the book and what happened to them by the book's publication.
Definitely for fans of travelogues, food memoirs, anyone with specific interests in these countries. However, as mentioned, it is more firmly in the memoir of Wong's specific experiences. I suppose for special reasons you might see this book in specific classes about food writing (as an example), but I would say this is probably more for a layperson who just as a passing interest and likes to "travel" by book.
Otherwise, borrowing this from a library if possible might be best for the reader. I did not mind buying this as a bargain buy but I would have preferred this as a library borrow instead.
This is definitely more in the "memoir" category with few recipes, few pictures and lots of descriptions of food, food preparation, eating and the people they meet along the way. It is also a specific book in the sense that Wong was not out to do any sort of scientific or historical study and that the people she writes about appear to have some connection or relationship to her or her family, etc. Which is fine, but if the reader is going into this book thinking it is going to be some sort of study or is something beyond the author's experiences, that is not it.
I do agree with a lot of the criticisms: sometimes the book is really repetitive. Depending on your lane, you may enjoy hearing more about the people Wong visited, or you may be disappointed that it is not filled with recipes and gorgeous food pictures which is another way this book may have gone. Wong does add an afterword, discussing a little bit about the people she writes about in the book and what happened to them by the book's publication.
Definitely for fans of travelogues, food memoirs, anyone with specific interests in these countries. However, as mentioned, it is more firmly in the memoir of Wong's specific experiences. I suppose for special reasons you might see this book in specific classes about food writing (as an example), but I would say this is probably more for a layperson who just as a passing interest and likes to "travel" by book.
Otherwise, borrowing this from a library if possible might be best for the reader. I did not mind buying this as a bargain buy but I would have preferred this as a library borrow instead.
October 28, 2017
Thank you to Goose Lane Editions and Jan Wong for the free advance copy!!
Jan Wong is a professional journalist turned journalism professor who decides to use her sabbatical to travel to three countries, stay with friends of friends and learn home cooking from three of the world's most respected food cultures. This trip, and this book, are about more than that though. Jan is the mother of two grown sons and longs for the closeness she used to feel with them. Her youngest son, Sam, dreams of becoming a chef and she uses this trip as a bribe for him to spend months travelling and cooking with her.
This book was really entertaining. Its incredibly well-written. You can really tell Jan used to be a top-notch journalist. Her descriptions of everything - the people she meets, the cultures they live in and the food they eat - are spot on: she's unflinching - she gives you everything and the result is that you get the sense that you are reading about real people and you feel like you know them, at least a little. The bits of background on culture and history she gives you are just enough to give her critique bite and give all of the anecdotes context. It never feels like too much.
The result is a lovely travel-memoir in three parts. I wouldn't say you get to know "French", "Italian" or "Chinese" home-cooking. What you do get is a honest portrait of a mother connecting with a son from whom she'd grown apart and a perfect, detailed account of how certain specific groups of people - an incredibly generous retired couple in a quiet village in the Drone region of France, a working couple in rural Piedmont and the super-rich and their live-in staff in Shanghai - and their extended network of friends - live and eat.
None of that even mentions the recipes, of which there are many - I've only tried one so far but it was tasty and easy to follow.
Highly recommended for foodie readers!
Jan Wong is a professional journalist turned journalism professor who decides to use her sabbatical to travel to three countries, stay with friends of friends and learn home cooking from three of the world's most respected food cultures. This trip, and this book, are about more than that though. Jan is the mother of two grown sons and longs for the closeness she used to feel with them. Her youngest son, Sam, dreams of becoming a chef and she uses this trip as a bribe for him to spend months travelling and cooking with her.
This book was really entertaining. Its incredibly well-written. You can really tell Jan used to be a top-notch journalist. Her descriptions of everything - the people she meets, the cultures they live in and the food they eat - are spot on: she's unflinching - she gives you everything and the result is that you get the sense that you are reading about real people and you feel like you know them, at least a little. The bits of background on culture and history she gives you are just enough to give her critique bite and give all of the anecdotes context. It never feels like too much.
The result is a lovely travel-memoir in three parts. I wouldn't say you get to know "French", "Italian" or "Chinese" home-cooking. What you do get is a honest portrait of a mother connecting with a son from whom she'd grown apart and a perfect, detailed account of how certain specific groups of people - an incredibly generous retired couple in a quiet village in the Drone region of France, a working couple in rural Piedmont and the super-rich and their live-in staff in Shanghai - and their extended network of friends - live and eat.
None of that even mentions the recipes, of which there are many - I've only tried one so far but it was tasty and easy to follow.
Highly recommended for foodie readers!
November 22, 2018
I want to begin this review first by saying Jan is a friend and a mentor, and I read any of her material out of a desire to support her and learn something new.
That being said, I am constantly amazed by the work she does when she writes; it’s something my generation of journalists with their digital recorders, DSLRs, and live-tweeting are unfamiliar with. When she talks about taking her notebook and pencil out, I believe it. I can absolutely see her scribbling frantically in a notebook as someone is sharing ingredient lists because she would do it. This woman covered the 1989 Tiananmen Square protests by dodging bullets and sending information out after working for hours after the adrenaline was out of her system.
Speaking as someone who has all the regular difficulties with family and then some, this book struck close to home. Jan interspersed the amazing play by play of meeting people, cooking in different kitchens, and committing food faux pas with reminders of what this book was about; her time with her son is running out, and she wasn’t ready to stop being Mom. It’s hard to fathom that until you see it up close, and I appreciate that Jan makes no excuses for herself. What do I mean by that? She knows she’s tough, and sometimes hard to deal with. She makes it clear her family sometimes has difficulties with her journalism approach, but never once does she give the impression that she can only be a mom or only be a journalist. She is both. Deal with it.
As for the food, there are some amazing recipes in there I’m excited to try (Jan’s easy white-cut chicken, spaghetti carbonara, Bernadette’s Béchamel sauce, Odette’s creme renversee, risotto, Anthea’s Hong Shao Rou, and firecracker chicken) and others (tongue, liver, snails) which I will wait for a professional to cook for me before I go near.
I strongly suggest you have a drink and some healthy snacks set up while you’re reading this book. Trust me, you’ll understand when you get to the parts of her describing how everything tastes.
Five stars.
That being said, I am constantly amazed by the work she does when she writes; it’s something my generation of journalists with their digital recorders, DSLRs, and live-tweeting are unfamiliar with. When she talks about taking her notebook and pencil out, I believe it. I can absolutely see her scribbling frantically in a notebook as someone is sharing ingredient lists because she would do it. This woman covered the 1989 Tiananmen Square protests by dodging bullets and sending information out after working for hours after the adrenaline was out of her system.
Speaking as someone who has all the regular difficulties with family and then some, this book struck close to home. Jan interspersed the amazing play by play of meeting people, cooking in different kitchens, and committing food faux pas with reminders of what this book was about; her time with her son is running out, and she wasn’t ready to stop being Mom. It’s hard to fathom that until you see it up close, and I appreciate that Jan makes no excuses for herself. What do I mean by that? She knows she’s tough, and sometimes hard to deal with. She makes it clear her family sometimes has difficulties with her journalism approach, but never once does she give the impression that she can only be a mom or only be a journalist. She is both. Deal with it.
As for the food, there are some amazing recipes in there I’m excited to try (Jan’s easy white-cut chicken, spaghetti carbonara, Bernadette’s Béchamel sauce, Odette’s creme renversee, risotto, Anthea’s Hong Shao Rou, and firecracker chicken) and others (tongue, liver, snails) which I will wait for a professional to cook for me before I go near.
I strongly suggest you have a drink and some healthy snacks set up while you’re reading this book. Trust me, you’ll understand when you get to the parts of her describing how everything tastes.
Five stars.
November 26, 2019
What a delight! Mother and son go in search of home cooking in three countries, and find it by living with the ordinary people who host them. France and Italy were best--who can resist Chiara and Maria Rosa's Two Stir Risotto al Porro?
Here is how she introduces it:
Cookbooks tiresomely insisted you stand over the pot, constantly stirring risotto, one reason I rarely made it. Restaurants back home made a fuss about risotto: they charged a fortune, forced you to order it for a minimum of two persons, and warned you it would take forty-five minutes. In Italy, just as there was no cult of pasta, there was no cult of risotto. It was just rice. I watched Maria Rosa toss in half a cup of hot broth, give the rice a couple of stirs, cover the pan and turn down the heat. That was it. Every now and then, she checked on the rice. When it dried out, she added more broth.
In addition to teaching you an easy way to make risotto, that passage gives you an idea of how Jan Wong writes. I just love it. Chatty, informative, and right there. Plus I learned that Italian people eat dried pasta, just like we do. French people--or at least the ones she stayed with--do indeed drink wine with their meals, but the amounts were scanty. The best of cooks occasionally favored a recipe that most of their friends would call hideous. And most of all, if you cook for a cook, even if you have to substitute or omit half o the ingredients, they will be extremely appreciative.
Their trip to China was strange. The family that was hosting them was either extremely wealthy or extremely overextended on credit--they lived in a 5-bedroom, two story penthouse full of antiques and art. But the kitchen fare was meager--the hostess was on an eternal diet and her maid was timid and lacking in self-confidence. She could cook, all right--they both could--but the hostess was too busy with her beauty regimen and the maid was too scared.
Here is how she introduces it:
Cookbooks tiresomely insisted you stand over the pot, constantly stirring risotto, one reason I rarely made it. Restaurants back home made a fuss about risotto: they charged a fortune, forced you to order it for a minimum of two persons, and warned you it would take forty-five minutes. In Italy, just as there was no cult of pasta, there was no cult of risotto. It was just rice. I watched Maria Rosa toss in half a cup of hot broth, give the rice a couple of stirs, cover the pan and turn down the heat. That was it. Every now and then, she checked on the rice. When it dried out, she added more broth.
In addition to teaching you an easy way to make risotto, that passage gives you an idea of how Jan Wong writes. I just love it. Chatty, informative, and right there. Plus I learned that Italian people eat dried pasta, just like we do. French people--or at least the ones she stayed with--do indeed drink wine with their meals, but the amounts were scanty. The best of cooks occasionally favored a recipe that most of their friends would call hideous. And most of all, if you cook for a cook, even if you have to substitute or omit half o the ingredients, they will be extremely appreciative.
Their trip to China was strange. The family that was hosting them was either extremely wealthy or extremely overextended on credit--they lived in a 5-bedroom, two story penthouse full of antiques and art. But the kitchen fare was meager--the hostess was on an eternal diet and her maid was timid and lacking in self-confidence. She could cook, all right--they both could--but the hostess was too busy with her beauty regimen and the maid was too scared.
November 12, 2017
Wong's book is fascinating, giving us a peek into homecooking in different countries specifically but more broadly examining local economies and societal structures within the home. Wong and her son also stayed with a few different families in each country, allowing us to see differences in cooking within the same country as well. While European homecooking is familiar to me, Chinese homecooking was an eyeopener. At times, this book will teach you more about class systems and oppression than any Marx textbook.
My only criticism was that I found some of her discussion of her relationship with her son(s) to be...offputting? Or maybe cliched is the better word. I feel like that subject may be a whole other book for her to explore, rather than in a book about cooking in different countries. I understand the tie-in, as her son would like to pursue a culinary career, but some things are better left in the family (so to speak).
My only criticism was that I found some of her discussion of her relationship with her son(s) to be...offputting? Or maybe cliched is the better word. I feel like that subject may be a whole other book for her to explore, rather than in a book about cooking in different countries. I understand the tie-in, as her son would like to pursue a culinary career, but some things are better left in the family (so to speak).
August 11, 2019
I love Jan Wong and she didn’t disappoint. I had the pleasure of hearing her speak about Apron a Strings before I read the book. It sealed it, I HAD to read it.
Apron Strings gives readers an inside scoop on attitudes towards food and culture in three different and distinct cultures with well appreciated cuisines.
Jan’s adventure with her son Sam is enviable both as a dream trip and an opportunity for a mom to really bond with her son. Part travel memoir part journalistic inquiry - a solid read.
As a history major, I found the political aspect of the stories most intriguing - how do everyday people live, how do government policies affect them? This is the kind of information one can’t glean as a visitor and won’t encounter as a tourist.
The recipes are a nice touch - although I’d prefer them in an index at the back for quick access.
I love Jan Wong and eagerly anticipate her next endeavour.
Apron Strings gives readers an inside scoop on attitudes towards food and culture in three different and distinct cultures with well appreciated cuisines.
Jan’s adventure with her son Sam is enviable both as a dream trip and an opportunity for a mom to really bond with her son. Part travel memoir part journalistic inquiry - a solid read.
As a history major, I found the political aspect of the stories most intriguing - how do everyday people live, how do government policies affect them? This is the kind of information one can’t glean as a visitor and won’t encounter as a tourist.
The recipes are a nice touch - although I’d prefer them in an index at the back for quick access.
I love Jan Wong and eagerly anticipate her next endeavour.
April 2, 2019
Supremely enjoyable, this 3-country "world" tour of family kitchens (some overcrowded homes with refugees staying, some mansions and penthouses with maids) sh0ws both the diversity and the similarities in the cultures Jan and her son Sam toured and the families they met together. At the same time, Jan's writing teaches us about her own family relationships. There are certainly a few recipes I have dog-eared for future cooking. The practical "cucina povera" kind, not that the book ever gets too fancy. Readers of Jan's columns, or her previous books, as well as anyone looking for a good food and family story, will be sure to enjoy the ride.
October 1, 2017
It's a rare book that I give a 5 star review. This book was a perfect combination of food, culture and travel - my 3 passions. It was irresistible and I binge-read it cover to cover. Jan has a very direct and honest style. I have read and enjoyed her other books as well as her columns in The Globe and Mail, Canada's National newspaper. I loved that she included recipes that she interspersed with her narrative. I felt as though I was at her side through her culinary discoveries. Almost tempting to re-read in order to savour at a slower pace, but I'll give it some time.
May 4, 2018
Journalist Jan Wong sets off with her 22 year-old-son Sam, an aspiring chef, to write a book about home cooking in France, Italy, and China. They live with locals and find out how the globalized world is changing. They learn to make blanquette de veau, spaghetti all vongole, and firecracker chicken, but they also learn about the impact of refugees in France, youth unemployment in Italy and the impact of new money on Shanghai culture. An interesting look at a mother son relationship set against a background of food and travel. A book for those who like food.
September 23, 2019
Canadian author Jan Wong decides that the best way to learn about cooking foreign cuisine is to live with local families and cook with them. She visits France, Italy, and China to find out about how everyday foods are prepared in these cultures. She is accompanied by her 22 year old son who is an aspiring would-be chef, so they have lots of interpersonal and intercultural issues and surprises. It's amazing how different these 3 countries approach food but how common it is to use local vegetables, fruits, and meats as a foundation for cuisine.
October 4, 2017
A luscious book - enjoyed the details of cooking in France, Italy and China and stories of her host families. Her mother-son relationship was a most honest portrayal and the details of shopping and cooking challenging recipes was fascinating.
March 24, 2018
Part memoir, part sociology, part cookbook, this book recounts the travels of Jan Wong and her son in three famously "foodie" countries: France, Italy and China.
An interesting exploration on the relationship between culture, family. and food.
An interesting exploration on the relationship between culture, family. and food.
September 7, 2018
Jan Wong and her son Sam set off to explore home cooking in France, Italy and China. They stay with several families in each country documenting their experiences, the similarities and differences in each country.
December 31, 2023
Loved diving into these 3 distinct and different cultures. I feel like I have a better understanding of France’s, Italy’s and Shanghai’s culture and people. Jan’s writing is detailed, but not boring.
July 26, 2024
Excellent tale of a mother’s travels with her 22 year old culinarily-disposed son to learn of everyday cooking in France, Italy and China. For better or worse, nothing I read in this book makes me want to visit China 😳
June 14, 2018
Entertaining and informative look at a mother and son relationship, families, food and culture in France, Italy and China. A good read to take on holiday.
June 17, 2018
Jan Wong’s observations are keen, blunt, funny and kind.
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