Finalist for the Art of Eating Prize A richly illustrated culinary tour of the United States through fifty signature dishes, and a radical exploration of our gastronomic heritage. Following his critically acclaimed Preparing the Ghost , renowned essayist Matthew Gavin Frank takes on America’s food. In a surprising style reminiscent of Maggie Nelson or Mark Doty, Frank examines a quintessential dish in each state, interweaving the culinary with personal and cultural associations of each region. From key lime pie (Florida) to elk stew (Montana), The Mad Feast commemorates the unexpected origins of the familiar. Brazenly dissecting the myriad intersections between history and food, Frank, in this gorgeously designed volume, considers politics, sexuality, violence, grief, and the cool, creamy whoopie pie evokes toughness in the face of New England winters, while the stewlike perloo serves up an exploration of food and race in the South. Tracing an unpredictable map of our collective appetites, The Mad Feast presents a beguiling flavor profile of the American spirit. 50 illustrations
Matthew Gavin Frank is the author of the nonfiction books, Flight of the Diamond Smugglers, The Mad Feast: An Ecstatic Tour Through America’s Food, Preparing the Ghost: An Essay Concerning the Giant Squid and Its First Photographer, Pot Farm, and Barolo; the poetry books, The Morrow Plots, Warranty in Zulu, and Sagittarius Agitprop, and 2 chapbooks. “Preparing the Ghost” was a New York Times Editors' Choice, an NPR Notable Book, and a New Yorker Book to Watch Out For. “The Mad Feast” was selected as a Staff Pick by The Paris Review, a Best Book of 2015 by Ploughshares, The Millions, and Paste Magazine, and featured in The Wall Street Journal, Saveur, and Entertainment Weekly. His work appears widely in journals and magazines, including The Kenyon Review, The Paris Review, Guernica, The New Republic, Iowa Review, Salon, Conjunctions, and The Normal School. After spending 17 years in the restaurant industry, he now teaches at Northern Michigan University, where he is the Nonfiction/Hybrids Editor of Passages North.
This is the cookbook David Foster Wallace might have written. In an off-the-wall blend of memoir, travel, history and fiction, Frank proceeds region by region, choosing for each state one beloved dish and interrogating its origins as well as its metaphors and associations. It’s a mixed bag of familiar foods and ones that only locals are likely to know about. Each chapter ends with a recipe for the signature plate, whether from a Lutheran church or a posh restaurant. Frank’s digressive, anecdotal approach takes some getting used to. If you enjoyed J. Ryan Stradal’s Kitchens of the Great Midwest and appreciate the style of writers like Geoff Dyer, Maggie Nelson and Will Self, this should be your next food-themed read.
I thought this would be a book about in essence, a road trip through each state long with some background on how their state food became such. Instead there were imaginary characters, a chapter on the physical basis for levitation, and prose like this: : violence is geology...do we force the Pollock to invade the identity of the crab...at what point do they overlap. With my voice I can be Jack Nicholson...In these clothes I can be my dead grandmother." What does this have to do with food, beats me. Then there are his analogies to sex..."because of this polluted river, our unlacy coverings, we must find out autoerotica in the eating of the cake." None of it makes senses. There are imaginary characters, and bizarre associations to food. This was totally not what I was looking for, although a few of the recipes did sound good.
Not what I would call nonfiction. Magical realism, true history, and recipes mixed together. Lots of death, deformity, sex, dystopia, broken dreams. Lots of really good poetic writing, but 50 essays back to back is a lot.
My goodness what a mess! The author doesn't know if they're writing a travelogue or, more likely, a "contrived quirky" stream-of-consciousness regurgitation of unrelated things posing as food anthropology. I actually felt irritated reading it at some parts and began to skim certain sections heavily.
Oddly enough there were 1 or 2 States where the essays were pretty readable, but not enough to save this mess. Even most of the recipes weren't worth it.
I really feel like the editors and the marketing team misled the readers on this, it is by no means a fun culinary romp through America. Big miss, surprised I finished it.
Absolutely sumptuous. I'm a monstrous fan of Frank's writing (his explorations into humanity through various jobs, everyday professions and ideas we often ignore, are unparalleled), and this book is sublime in its depictions of our history and culture and how important food is to all of that...how important it is in shaping our identities. The added recipes are great, but what makes this stand out compared to other food writing is the depth it plumbs our food identities...our histories...the individual stories otherwise ignored made grand here...showcasing the importance of everyday people, their lives, their histories, that it all has meaning.
Whether Matthew Gavin Frank captured the culture of each state in the dish he chose to represent it I am unsure, but as a resident of Utah I'd say he was spot on with funeral potatoes. A journey of culture and the mysticism of culture in the United States captured in 50 dishes. Beautiful language, magnificent poetry like prose, each chapter will either leave you wanting to vomit or with a craving for more; either way, what a fascinating journey.
I was really excited to get this book, but I guess I misunderstood the premise. I thought it would give a history of the recipe and some words from locals describing their love for them. It did in some cases, but most of the essays were strange and confusing. Some were just printed search engine histories from the authors research.
As with all of Frank's books, I walk away feeling like a smarter human. I love the intimate studies of states and people, with a generous dose of history, sociology, and humanity. There are so many beautiful, poetic passages that make me wonder how Frank enters such a meditative state even when writing prose.
omg this book is horrible. NPR rated it highly but I couldn't get past the first state. the stories are confusing and only make sense if you have background knowledge of the state history. I felt like the writer was trying too hard to layer meaning.
I read this for a creative writing class and the lyric essays within were enthralling examples of good nonfiction writing. Many critique his work as absurd and hard to read, but I think Frank wrote in a way that emulates the troubled mind and represents many of these states and their histories and their darkness in a way that makes readers uncomfortable. I do not think it takes much to interpret his metaphors, but you have to be willing to explore the unsaid and underrepresented to do so. It’s not fluff, it’s raw and tragic and real, and that’s the problem so many have with his work. Emulating his writing made me a better writer and I hope those who do read this work enter into it with an open mind and a willingness to explore our commonly thought histories and very self.
This is not a cookbook, go read Better Homes & Gardens if you’re looking for what to cook tonight.
I really enjoyed listening to Matthew Gavin Frank’s 2015 interview on Gastropod (a podcast that discusses food through the lens of science and history) where he described his exploration of food typical to each of America’s states. It must have been very enjoyable travelling around sampling lots of variations of the same dish and discussing the history with a diverse range of people. I looked forward to reading the book to learn more. Unfortunately, I found the content extremely difficult to read. I am not even how to describe his writing style. It was as though he was trying to write fiction within a non-fiction frame-work. It was confusing and disappointing. There were some interesting facts and stories hidden in the mix, however you had to work hard to find them.
This book was not what I expected at all based on the cover/summary. While it did cover some interesting regional recipes the whole thing read more like a blend of trippy American Gothic pieces attempting to jam food writing in with history/culture/background and some bizarre narrative elements. (The history stuff was good though.) Most recipes seemed unobtainable for the average cook. The section on my state fixated on some really off the beaten path stuff...way in the weeds...which made me wonder how the other states held up for other readers.
From the cover and the description I expected a joyful foodie romp through the USA. Instead I found myself reading a morbid group of strange, disturbing, politically charged essays that only touch on the food of the region. Recipes are tacked on at the end. The writing is pretentious and florid. I honestly can’t imagine how this book was ever published, it’s that bad.
Ahahahhaha!!! I bought this book for no good reason. When I started reading it I thought " My GOD! This book is gonna piss people off!!!" I have kept this book close by, in my bedroom and bath room and read it off and on forever it seems. I bought it about 5 years ago (Maybe?) and kinda love it. Most people will not.
This book was too much. 50 essays, ostensibly about food but often not, was just not what I was hoping this book would be. It wasn't engaging enough to draw me in. I just didn't care.
I had wanted to use this book for my 50 states cooking project, so I gleaned the bits I wanted and glossed over the rest.
A little too disturbing for me for a cookbook - essentially- which is what I was anticipating- with some color to round out the choice for each state. I’m ok with bizarre but bizarre barely describes this. Another post called this magical realism. Maybe. The Manson chapter is where I stopped. Bummer. There was the essence of something here but it just ended up being disturbing
I did not read this in its entirety. The Connecticut chapter recipe is Creamy Cape Cod Clam Chowder. If neither Frank nor his editor knew that the Cape is in Massachusetts, what other errors are there?
This is a stream of consciousness cookbook, if you can believe such a thing exists. I have read several stream of consciousness books, like those of Virginia Woolf. So, I know they can be written well. This book is like a bad acid trip. There is no true context, just random musings. It's almost like the author wrote his thoughts on napkins and old envelopes and then later fashioned them into a book. The recipes were ok but perhaps not quintessential to each state. I have lived in Arizona for 35 years and do not think a Sonoran hot dog is a signature dish, representative of the state. It worries me that this man teachers creative writing. No wonder there are so many bad books out there. People think they can sacrifice craft for emotive nonsense, thus calling it art. Mad indeed.
In this wild and entertaining romp through our country's eclectic cuisine, Frank reaffirms what many of us know to be true: that the quickest way to the human heart is through the stomach, and that the best way to understand who we are (and who we hope to be) is through the examination of what we put in our mouths. Feast with Frank--you'll leave overflowing with wonder.
I was doing alright with this odd speculative essay format even with the author's obsession with blood, infertility, cancer, and masturbation about or around food but I started to offended when the comparisons to rape and longterm abuse of women were brought up as speculative bon mots while discussing regional food recipes.
The writing in this book is beautiful and lyrical, although tends towards the dark and depressing. An interesting mix of memoir, fiction and food, this book is worth reading although the style gets a bit repetitive by the end.
I don't know what I thought this book was going to be, or what it really ended up being. Part travelogue? Part cookbook? It's a state-by-state culinary journey, told in a beat poetry stream-of-consciousness kind of way.
It's an interesting read. Not at all what I was expecting. Some chapters are easier to follow than others in this read but most are written in a stream of consciousness that is hard to read. Not quite cookbook, not quite non-fiction. Really under-whelmed.
I didn't know what to make of this one. I skipped to places I've lived and food I like, and didn't like any of those essays. So probably not for me. [Later] OK, back it goes. Life is short, and it's not like I'm short of stuff to read.
I respect what the author is trying to do, but this book is liking reading a book on food by James Joyce. Tone it down, brother. The stream of consciousness style doesn't suit the topic.