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annemariep68's review
3.0
This is 3.5 -4⭐️This was an audio book narrated by the author. I am on a bit of a kick right now listening to autobiographies that are self-narrated! Maybe it’s the isolation of this year but it’s like sitting down for coffee with someone and having them tell you their story!
Anyway- this was a really interesting glimpse into the restaurant world by a woman who had to take a number of detours to finally arrive at her calling. She was a writer first and you can tell - the book is very nicely written and I think it would be as nice of a read as a listen. She talks about the challenges of breaking into a male-dominated field, the ways which women and people of colour have created much that’s unique about American cuisine- but have no agency over it. And of the good and not so good ways family and others have influenced the trajectory of her life. A very good story- and a good listen.
Anyway- this was a really interesting glimpse into the restaurant world by a woman who had to take a number of detours to finally arrive at her calling. She was a writer first and you can tell - the book is very nicely written and I think it would be as nice of a read as a listen. She talks about the challenges of breaking into a male-dominated field, the ways which women and people of colour have created much that’s unique about American cuisine- but have no agency over it. And of the good and not so good ways family and others have influenced the trajectory of her life. A very good story- and a good listen.
barnesstorming's review
5.0
Donovan, a renowned chef and pastry chef throughout the South, takes us on a rocky journey through her young-adulthood and, eventually a journey that's just as rocky through her times in Nashville kitchens. This memoir is slight only in length. It has, in fact, some of the best writing I've read in a long time, as she takes us through a life that was headed for a slow grind -- as a single mother working as a waitress in the Florida Panhandle -- as she finds legs to stand on. But take heart: It's uproariously funny nearly as often as it's tragic. "Our Lady of Perpetual Hunger" is more than just a feminist manifesto, though it is that as well. It's relatable to anyone whose felt confined by circumstances (gender, economic, familial) and whose first instinct is to punch out at those confines. Those looking for a lot of detail on her cooking experiences will be surprised to learn that she doesn't even start baking until midway through the book. And there's a little bit of person-and-place juice, this ain't "Kitchen Confidential". It is, however, wonderful and filled with wonderfully spun stories and just all-around strong wordswomanship. Here's an example, where she's speaking of restaurant investment teams whose primary concern is profit margin: "Rich men will do anything to get richer. Wars are fought, people killed, to make sure our barrels of oil don't go over fifty-five dollars and that when they do, the rich men don't make less, we just pay more. It's no different in the restaurant world."
Opening passage:
I had the kind of mango between my fingers that you really have to suck on before you can even start to bite the sinewy flesh, otherwise you risk losing all its juices down the length of your arm -- and, occasionally, into your armpit, depending on your position at the time.
Closing passage:
"Mija. Go wild."
Opening passage:
I had the kind of mango between my fingers that you really have to suck on before you can even start to bite the sinewy flesh, otherwise you risk losing all its juices down the length of your arm -- and, occasionally, into your armpit, depending on your position at the time.
Closing passage:
Spoiler
And then I kissed her and, before I fell asleep with her in my arms, whispered one last, real prayer into her ear."Mija. Go wild."
mawalker1962's review
5.0
This gorgeous piece of writing is a food memoir, a contemporary version of Kitchen Confidential, but it is soooo much more. It is the story of a woman who fought to find her own voice and forge the life she wanted and the life she knows she deserves, in spite of all the ways our culture conspires to make women small and suppress our voices. Even if you have no interest in the food world, If you love beautifully-written and compelling stories from strong, inspiring women, you’ll love this book.
margaretpottah's review
5.0
I found this book cathartic. A contemplation of gender and grief and life and hunger and strength and family and deeply guarded independence that states, at least for me, so much that I feel deeply but could never put to words. Not at all trite. Some of the most beautiful descriptions of place that I’ve ever read, and the love & honor owed to Southern food and it’s (predominantly Black) creators. I’ll read whatever Lisa Donovan publishes next, and not just because she shares my distaste for fondant. Thankful this found me when I needed it.
krism's review
4.0
Interesting memoir about a woman's struggles in becoming a chef. Low pay and long hours. Unequal pay because she is a woman. Lack of opportunities because she is a woman. Lack of recognition for her work. (I'm making her sound whinny- she's not.) Donovan points out that 80% of meals in households are prepared by women, yet fewer than 7% of American restaurants are led by female chefs. There are some bright moments in the book but it's mostly a reflection on being strong, self-reliant, and find a network of likeminded people for support. Donovan is a James Beard award-winning essayist, author, and chef.
alundeberg's review
5.0
Lisa Donovan's memoir, "Our Lady of Perpetual Hunger", floored me. In it she writes about her rise to becoming one of the top pastry chefs in America. While she had many mentors along the way, she was still a woman in a male-dominated industry, and she had to more than prove herself-- to her family and her male and female bosses-- along the way. But what makes her memoir so compelling is that she works from a place of authenticity and truth. Through her creations she wanted to honor the women who came before her, her multiracial heritage and humble roots, and her Southern traditions. She is unflinching and unapologetic in describing the latent and overt misogyny she experiences along the way, from being a young mother who was encouraged to try and make a go of it with the abusive father of her child, from receiving substantially less pay than her male peers, from men profiting off her intellectual property. Through this she works to find a path and career that works for her, one that reflects her values. It is a powerful story and really about what it means to be a woman in America.
As I listened to her book, I couldn't help but think of her experience in the restaurant industry as an allegory of being a teacher. Both industries are exploitive, relying on its practitioners passion and care for the craft as a means to maintain the status quo. Donovan writes about how rich, often male, investors, have no problem dropping a load of cash for expensive artwork and sconces, but rebuff any attempts to pay their employees more or to provide decent healthcare. She was often underpaid because her work, while it brought in substantial profit, was not taken seriously, and the underlying belief that since she was married, she had her husband to take care of her. That she and her husband were struggling to make ends meet never entered the equation. The onus was on her to prove herself to be "enough". Teaching is very much the same. The school district has no problem giving themselves raises and spending money on technology and this and that program that will be the silver bullet of teaching while forcing the union to fight for their federally mandated cost of living increase, and then fight harder for a raise. These increases are just enough to cover the increase in health care costs. While I know I am paid the same as my male colleagues who have the same amount of education and experience as I do, teachers as a whole are paid 20% less than employees with equal experience in the private sector. That teachers are predominately women plays a large part in that. Donovan states that chefs are often asked what they, themselves, can do to manage to survive in a an exploitive industry, but the question is never about what the industry can do to make it better for chefs and other employees. The same self-care parade is rolled out to teachers, especially for these last two years. We are expected to self-care our way through a pandemic, students with much greater needs, and parents who actively fight against classroom safety while also expecting us to put their children over our own lives. How does this play out? Here's a hint: Donovan left the industry.
Donovan's memoir is timely in more ways than one in why we need to not only support and believe women, but invest in people for a better a society. Highly recommend.
As I listened to her book, I couldn't help but think of her experience in the restaurant industry as an allegory of being a teacher. Both industries are exploitive, relying on its practitioners passion and care for the craft as a means to maintain the status quo. Donovan writes about how rich, often male, investors, have no problem dropping a load of cash for expensive artwork and sconces, but rebuff any attempts to pay their employees more or to provide decent healthcare. She was often underpaid because her work, while it brought in substantial profit, was not taken seriously, and the underlying belief that since she was married, she had her husband to take care of her. That she and her husband were struggling to make ends meet never entered the equation. The onus was on her to prove herself to be "enough". Teaching is very much the same. The school district has no problem giving themselves raises and spending money on technology and this and that program that will be the silver bullet of teaching while forcing the union to fight for their federally mandated cost of living increase, and then fight harder for a raise. These increases are just enough to cover the increase in health care costs. While I know I am paid the same as my male colleagues who have the same amount of education and experience as I do, teachers as a whole are paid 20% less than employees with equal experience in the private sector. That teachers are predominately women plays a large part in that. Donovan states that chefs are often asked what they, themselves, can do to manage to survive in a an exploitive industry, but the question is never about what the industry can do to make it better for chefs and other employees. The same self-care parade is rolled out to teachers, especially for these last two years. We are expected to self-care our way through a pandemic, students with much greater needs, and parents who actively fight against classroom safety while also expecting us to put their children over our own lives. How does this play out? Here's a hint: Donovan left the industry.
Donovan's memoir is timely in more ways than one in why we need to not only support and believe women, but invest in people for a better a society. Highly recommend.