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tomato_bisque's review
dark
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
sad
fast-paced
"If you want the fruit you have to climb the tree. You will fall many times, but the fruit tastes sweetest when you pick it yourself."
alliincali's review
emotional
inspiring
sad
medium-paced
Moving memoire melding memories of Cambodia with food. Relevant during these turbulent times.
branchomananan99's review
5.0
A book that deserves every page to be turned. Not an easy and at times enjoyable read, but one that shines a light on the conflict in Cambodia then Vietnam and Thailand for refugees. I found Chantha’s experience harrowing and often wondered if I could have even survived what she and many others went through. As a bonus though, all the dishes described throughout sound delicious although some were just rice and salt and chili being served in refugee camps. Slow Noodles was truly a remarkable, at times unbelievable, story.
haleyanne's review against another edition
adventurous
challenging
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
tense
fast-paced
5.0
jonesy_reads's review
5.0
Slow Noodles is a memoir about growing up in Cambodia and Vietnam during the Pol Pot genocide and Vietnam war. Chantha Nguon was the youngest daughter in a wealthy Cambodian family, and then everything changed when she was 9. She went from private school to a refugee camp, from making and experiencing marvelous meals to surviving weeks and months on end on only rice, and once from three months with only eggplant. Chantha tells her story through the foods she ate, chronicling the years and her ever changing fate with recipes, some beloved from her childhood, and some with not so pleasant memories. She experiences life as a fleeing refugee, waiting a decade in a refugee camp, surviving as a miner, seamstress, cook, bar tender, tofu maker, midwife's assistant, a nurse, and more. Chantha's story is that of hardwork and resilience, of fearfulness and fearlessness, of good times and bad, but most of all it is about never giving up, and how food can bolster us through even the most difficult experiences.
The following are some recipes and quotes that really spoke to me.
Recipes:
How to Change Cloth into Diamond
Kuy Teav
Go-Home Rice
American Dream Morning Glory, Stir Fried
How to Prepare Instant Noodles in a Thai Refugee Camp
A Taste of Poverty
"Don't people say that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger? Could be. Or it may be that what tries to kill you does harm that can never be fully repaired. Perhaps they are the same thing: the strength and the damage."
"Years later, when I was in Stung Treng working with Volunteer Service Organization (VSO)-an agency that sends development volunteers into villages all over the world-I sat in a meeting with wide-eyed new volunteers. "How do we define poverty?" the instructor asked the trainees.
"No electricity?" said one. Another: "No TV?"
For them, this was an abstract question. For me, it was not.
"Maybe you are poor in America, if you don't have a TV," I said. "But if you eat nothing but rice and salt for two months, you will understand what poverty is.""
"I wondered how long women would remain the poorest of the poor, in a great sea of poverty. We'd heard so much about our Chbab Srey responsibilities—and were often expected to fulfill them, even in this merciless time and place. I wondered what the Chbab Proh, the "Rules for Men," had to say about men's responsibility to not exploit teenage girls for their own gratification, or about how not to abuse or abandon their wives and children.
I walked back to the clinic and prepared a very nice soup. It was all I knew to do."
The following are some recipes and quotes that really spoke to me.
Recipes:
How to Change Cloth into Diamond
Kuy Teav
Go-Home Rice
American Dream Morning Glory, Stir Fried
How to Prepare Instant Noodles in a Thai Refugee Camp
A Taste of Poverty
"Don't people say that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger? Could be. Or it may be that what tries to kill you does harm that can never be fully repaired. Perhaps they are the same thing: the strength and the damage."
"Years later, when I was in Stung Treng working with Volunteer Service Organization (VSO)-an agency that sends development volunteers into villages all over the world-I sat in a meeting with wide-eyed new volunteers. "How do we define poverty?" the instructor asked the trainees.
"No electricity?" said one. Another: "No TV?"
For them, this was an abstract question. For me, it was not.
"Maybe you are poor in America, if you don't have a TV," I said. "But if you eat nothing but rice and salt for two months, you will understand what poverty is.""
"I wondered how long women would remain the poorest of the poor, in a great sea of poverty. We'd heard so much about our Chbab Srey responsibilities—and were often expected to fulfill them, even in this merciless time and place. I wondered what the Chbab Proh, the "Rules for Men," had to say about men's responsibility to not exploit teenage girls for their own gratification, or about how not to abuse or abandon their wives and children.
I walked back to the clinic and prepared a very nice soup. It was all I knew to do."