Book Review: The Gallery of Regrettable Food by James Lileks (2001)

Well, I have done my part to help maintain Jasperwood and to keep Lileks in Hummels and cigars. I read The Bleat, his Back Fence column with the Star-Tribune, and even his weekly Newhouse News column. That’s all free, though, and does little for Lileks’ bottom line, which is probably higher than many peoples’ top lines, but still. By reading off the Web, I was not empowering Lileks. Much like you freeloading readers are doing by not sendng me cash or visiting my Amazon wish list and sending me goodies. Not that I am trying to put a guilt trip on you; I know you’re all heartless socialistopaths who think we should be just doing this because we can, and you want it. But I digress, gentle skinflint reader.

So I went out and bought The Gallery of Regrettable Food, at full price no less, to send a couple pennies’ worth of royalties to Minnesota (the poor man’s Wisconsin). Unfortunately, I was disappointed with the work.

As you might know from viewing Lileks’ Web site, the Gallery represents photos and some snarky wit about recipes collected in books released in the years when Baby Boomers’ parents were cooking. Lileks started the project based on a cookbook he found among his mother’s effects. The book’s wit might be spot-on (Heather liked the pages she browsed), but unfortunately, it didn’t rub me the right way for a couple reasons:

  • As a rule, I am deferential to older generations and their wisdom. I don’t mock it, even when it’s goofy. Well, maybe I do sometimes, but this book led me to a high horse, and you can lead a man to a high horse, but you can’t make him drink. If you lead him to Guiness, though….what was my point?
  • I read this book too soon after Make Room for TV, a book which examined old television shows and extrapolated from them to score Marxist/Feminist points. Lileks’ book doesn’t make political points, but it does make light of the knowledge of our forebearers. Or at least the knowledge of those who marketed to our forebearers. Still, I had too much anti-Spigel venom built up to appreciate what Lileks was doing.
  • I have a closet full of these books from when I was doing the eBay thing. I’d pick them up for a dime and list them for a couple of bucks. I sold a couple, too, to people looking for their parents’ recipes, or perhaps to the parents who lost the recipes in a divorce settlement or something. Still, Lileks cuts into the resale value of these treasures I own.

Still, I am glad I bought the book. I’m happy to underwrite Lileks, even though this particular tome is not my bag. I imagine his next volume, Interior Desecrations, will be some of the same. But he’s a good writer, and soon he should have some collection of his other writings coming out which I’ll enjoy more.

Buy My Books!
Buy John Donnelly's Gold Buy The Courtship of Barbara Holt Buy Coffee House Memories