STOCKER'S KITCHEN

In Wittman’s (Breast Cancer Journal, 1993) first novel, a motley group of New Yorkers are linked by their connection to a famed restaurant and its troubled, bad-tempered chef.

The book opens in the chaotic kitchen of a Manhattan restaurant, “the closest thing imaginable to hell, an ill-lit basement cavern that seemed fathoms deep, caught in the sizzling sulphur-spitting bowels of Mother Earth.” From this rough place emerges unimaginable beauty in the form of head chef Stocker’s (“No one knew his first name”) wondrous culinary creations. The kitchen also brings together a diverse group of people, including motherly waitress Crystal, who’s trying to repair her relationship with her only daughter; finicky pastry chef Jon, who’s not sure about his relationship with his boyfriend, Keith; and Sean, a deeply shy young man who manages to land a job in the kitchen chopping vegetables and peeling potatoes. There’s also Megan, a would-be actress hampered by self-doubt, and Stocker’s lover, Angela, who’s the estranged daughter of a Vietnamese refugee. Stocker himself is equal parts genius and bully, towering tyrant and wounded child. Chapter by chapter, the book delves into the complicated and sometimes-ugly lives of these characters as they search for connection and meaning in a complicated world. Wittman has a gift for language and an obvious love of food: Braised duck is served with a “deep, whispering sauce”; pastas “could have leapt from their plates and capered.” The vivid, often elegant descriptions starkly contrast with Stocker’s crude, sometimes-racist language (“No one gives head like a Chink”) in his kitchen, where he berates his staff. Stocker’s intimate moments with Angela, meanwhile, are written with a blunt sensuality. The carefully crafted scenes build upon one another to gradually expose dark truths about the characters’ lives, although not every revelation works; one character’s HIV diagnosis, for instance, functions as no more than a clumsy plot device. Overall, though, the story is secondary to the atmosphere.

A novel that’s meant to be savored, like a good meal, despite some occasional bitter flavors.