In this strangely dreamlike narrative, Rose Edelstein can taste in the food people cook the emotions of those who created it. In fact, as the book goes on, we learn that most of the Edelstein family has the gift … or curse … of empathizing with others in various sensory ways – taste, smell and physical transformation. Rather than make them more positively sensitive about the feelings of others, however, it turns each of them into solitary creatures who will do anything NOT to feel. They avoid, they hide, they starve themselves – anything not to feel.

One cannot help but think that Aimee Bender is paying a bit of an homage to Tenessee Williams’ dream-play THE GLASS MENAGERIE with siblings Rose and Joseph Edelstein who are a sort of modern-day Laura and Tom Wingfield. Like Tom, deep and secretive Joseph looks for a way to escape – and does so in a fabulously surreal way; Rose (Tennesse Williams’ real sister was named Rose; in GLASS MENAGERIE her nickname is Blue Roses) is deeply tied to her mother, has a distant father, and bittersweetly falls for a gentleman caller (Joseph’s friend George). Like Williams' piece, LEMON CAKE ends with one sibling sadly wondering about the life of the other.

The narrative is beautifully constructed, and while the lyrical prose at times seems a bit over-written, the narrative at times seems a little under-written. For example, the actual source of the family “gift” is never uncovered. Bender seems to want to make this a non-issue. Beyond the first few chapters, Bender doesn’t even make our heroine, Rose, curious about its source or possible “cure”. This seems odd and a bit unfulfilling. If one spins fantasy elements into one’s story-telling it cheats the readers of a key element if one denies them even an attempt at an explanation.

Still there is beauty in this book. I enjoyed reading it, though the ending seemed a little rushed.