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CAVIAR

Name: CAVIAR
Author: Inga Saffron
ISBN: 0-7679-0623-3

THE STRANGE HISTORY AND UNCERTAIN FUTURE OF THE WORLD’S MOST COVETED DELICACY

by Inga Saffron ‧ RELEASE DATE: Oct. 15, 2002

Here’s whatever is worth knowing about Romanoff and Petrossian and the remarkable history of beluga, osetra, or sevruga...

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An experienced hand in Eastern Europe and Russia, now architecture critic for the Philadelphia Inquirer, reports extensively on a snack for the well-heeled that used to come from Russia with, if not love, then much salt. Her text surveys the art, science and lore of sturgeon roe: caviar, of course.

“Stripped of its shroud of legend and tradition,” she observes, “caviar would just be fish eggs.” As with diamonds, though, it’s scarcity that gave this ephemeral foodstuff such cachet with the upper crust. It’s surely not simply the taste. Exclusivity is why the Soviets marketed the black spawn the way DeBeers doled out their diamonds. The first necessity for true caviar, of course, is sturgeon. Coeval with the dinosaurs, it’s a sizeable fish in mortal danger of extinction. The ugly animal was once an easily available comestible for peasants around the Caspian. It became subject to a takeover by Cossacks, who purveyed the fragile food to Russian Orthodox Christians and then to the aristocracy. Eventually, the Communists catered to the capitalist trade. At last, by the end of the 20th century, caviar was a mass-market delicacy, gulped by yuppies. Meanwhile, the docile sturgeon, once a universal food, was disappearing. No longer was caviar canned in New Jersey as it was in the 19th century and no longer does the Volga yield tons of roe annually. After all, if eggs are consumed wantonly, population must inevitably fade. Poaching and over-fishing, abetted by pollution and damned rivers, is killing the fish that laid the golden (well, black) eggs. International policing using ichthyological DNA markers to find illicit product may prove even less effective than fish farming. For the moment, most good caviar comes from Iran and most bad caviar is hatched from international intrigue.

Here’s whatever is worth knowing about Romanoff and Petrossian and the remarkable history of beluga, osetra, or sevruga eggs, all in this one basket, served with much style.

Pub Date: Oct. 15, 2002

ISBN: 0-7679-0623-3

Page Count: 288

Publisher: Broadway

Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Sept. 1, 2002

Categories:

GENERAL NONFICTION

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NUTCRACKER

by E.T.A. Hoffmann ‧ RELEASE DATE: Oct. 28, 1996

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This is not the Nutcracker sweet, as passed on by Tchaikovsky and Marius Petipa. No, this is the original Hoffmann tale of 1816, in which the froth of Christmas revelry occasionally parts to let the dark underside of childhood fantasies and fears peek through. The boundaries between dream and reality fade, just as Godfather Drosselmeier, the Nutcracker's creator, is seen as alternately sinister and jolly. And Italian artist Roberto Innocenti gives an errily realistic air to Marie's dreams, in richly detailed illustrations touched by a mysterious light. A beautiful version of this classic tale, which will captivate adults and children alike. (Nutcracker; $35.00; Oct. 28, 1996; 136 pp.; 0-15-100227-4)

Pub Date: Oct. 28, 1996

ISBN: 0-15-100227-4

Page Count: 136

Publisher: Harcourt

Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 15, 1996

Categories:

GENERAL NONFICTION

- BOOK REVIEW
THE NUTCRACKER AND THE MOUSE KING
by E.T.A. Hoffmann ; adapted by Natalie Andrewson ; illustrated by Natalie Andrewson

- BOOK REVIEW
THE NUTCRACKER
by E.T.A. Hoffmann & illustrated by Julie Paschkis

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TO THE ONE I LOVE THE BEST

EPISODES FROM THE LIFE OF LADY MENDL (ELSIE DE WOLFE)

by Ludwig Bemelmans ‧ RELEASE DATE: Feb. 23, 1955

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An extravaganza in Bemelmans' inimitable vein, but written almost dead pan, with sly, amusing, sometimes biting undertones, breaking through. For Bemelmans was "the man who came to cocktails". And his hostess was Lady Mendl (Elsie de Wolfe), arbiter of American decorating taste over a generation. Lady Mendl was an incredible person,- self-made in proper American tradition on the one hand, for she had been haunted by the poverty of her childhood, and the years of struggle up from its ugliness,- until she became synonymous with the exotic, exquisite, worshipper at beauty's whrine. Bemelmans draws a portrait in extremes, through apt descriptions, through hilarious anecdote, through surprisingly sympathetic and understanding bits of appreciation. The scene shifts from Hollywood to the home she loved the best in Versailles. One meets in passing a vast roster of famous figures of the international and artistic set. And always one feels Bemelmans, slightly offstage, observing, recording, commenting, illustrated.