COLORFUL PALATE

A Puerto Rican, Indian, and Italian man uses food memories to tell the story of his childhood.

In the introduction to this linear, food-based memoir, journalist Tawney writes, “So, what am I? A magnificent concoction conceived in a pivotal period in late-twentieth-century America.” Born to a Puerto Rican and Italian mother and an Indian father, the author has been profoundly shaped by the racist assumptions built into a world unwilling to accept families “undefined by a single group or birthright.” Even when he was young, he writes, “I knew somehow that I was entering a world that wouldn’t easily digest me, that couldn’t possibly see life through my eyes, full of a rainbow of colors, flavors, aromas, faces, and perspectives.” In kindergarten, Tawney’s teacher sent him to what appeared to be a classroom for English language learners after stumbling over his name. When he returned home, upset and humiliated—both by his teacher’s confusion and his classmates’ jabs about his sequined Barney the Dinosaur jacket—Tawney soothed his jangled nerves by cooking chicken with his mother using a tandoori recipe provided at the end of the chapter. The remainder of the book follows this pattern: In a chapter about weekend visits to his Puerto Rican grandmother, Elsie, the author includes a recipe for Elsie’s meatballs. In a story about a high school party he threw with his band, he includes a recipe for his mother’s pakoras and chutney. While Tawney hints at his parents' troubled relationship and his own strained relationship with his Indian father, he shies away from vulnerability or circumspection, leaving readers to speculate about how these conflicts originated or resolved. At times, the author's anger sparks moments of true, visceral feeling, but overall, the awkward prose, alienated narratorial voice, and chronological structure combine to create a finished product that is predictable and mundane.

A disappointing memoir about a multiracial family and their cuisine.