Endings, Beginnings + Comfort Food

Two Timely Novels + A Cozy Tomato Sauce

Read

The Rachel Incident by Caroline O’Donoghue, pub. 2023
Buy: Bookshop.org or your local bookshop

Greek Lessons by Han Kang, translated by Deborah Smith and Emily Yae Won, pub. 2011 (translated in 2023)
Buy: Bookshop.org or your local bookshop

I love ending a year and starting a new one with a distinct literary tone. Usually, I like to choose an ending that fits the season: cozy, enveloping, plot-driven; and start the new year thoughtful, deep, slow. Below, the books that closed out 2023 and drew me into 2024. Plus a recipe for a very cozy tomato sauce (spoiler: It’s not for pasta!).

Everyone (and by everyone I mean all of the British podcasters and writers I follow) was talking about The Rachel Incident last year. Described as ‘brilliantly funny,’ I figured it would be a good way to close out a year that felt deeply unfunny in basically every way. It fit the bill perfectly. I read it in one day, moving from bed to couch and back to bed with it clutched beneath my arm, breaking only to snack and sweat. The novel’s central relationship – a Platonic love story – is reminiscent of the friendship in Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow which, if you’ve not read it, is a must! If you’re over 30, this book will simultaneously make you nostalgic for your 20s and glad they’re a thing of the past.

The gist: Twenty-something Rachel (tall, messy, irreverent) meets James (queer, closeted, catty) working at a campus bookstore in Cork, Ireland. After a bumpy start they fall hopelessly in friend love. We watch as they move into a decrepit flat and start a shared life, which includes sleeping in the same bed, watching Frasier reruns, getting smashed on cheap wine and dating the wrong people, all while observing the economy – something they assumed they’d both contribute to and be bolstered by at this ripe young age – dip perilously. It’s 2010, the market has crashed and Cork is suffering. Their jobs dwindle, die and are rekindled, only to die again. Amid all of this, they find themselves entwined with one of Rachel’s professors, Fred, and his wife, Deenie, in one of the more dramatic, funny and sad love triangles I’ve read. 

What I fell for most is the immediacy of Rachel’s voice. I love a fierce female narrator with strong energy, and Rachel is just that. There’s nothing wishy-washy about her: She has big emotions, reactions and reactions to her own emotions. She’s sort of a mess, but you root for her nonetheless. And her relationship with James is just. so. perfectly written. You spend the bulk of the novel enmeshed in their little world – full of inside jokes and bad decisions – and then are carried deeper when there are consequences for those decisions. It would make a great gateway book if you’re in a rut, or are just looking to be drawn into a tale of friendship and youth (bonus points for excellent Irish-isms). On its face it’s a straightforward story and goes down easy, but the themes run deep (the trials and tribulations of yearslong friendships; navigating queerness; unrequited love; economic struggles; infidelity). Please read this one. It’s a goodie.

2024 started off somber and esoteric with Greek Lessons. You know those books that you start reading and aren’t necessarily itching to pick back up again because they require you to stretch your brain, but every time you do you’re blown away? This is that book for me. A slim novella that packs a serious punch and asks for concentration and silence in order for it to sink into you / you to sink into it, it follows two characters: One is a woman who, for the second time in her life, has ceased to speak. We’re told it’s due to trauma (her mother’s death; losing her son in a custody battle). The second is a man who suffers from a condition wherein he’s been slowly losing his sight since he was small; we’re introduced as the last glimmers of the world are still accessible to him. He teaches Greek to a small class, and the woman is one of his students. 

This book is a bit difficult to describe because it’s not remotely plot-driven, nor is it dramatic or pacey. Rather, its specialness lies in Kang’s incredible ability to depict senses, what happens when they’re muted, how they manifest and move throughout the body, and the effects of their acute loss. Before reading this I’d never considered the way sound moves through the throat and into the mouth, and, if it’s stifled, creates a searing sensation that can be both physically and emotionally painful. Or how someone losing their sight might cling to the early dawn hours, as daylight is actually too bright to pick out shapes. How touch can feel electric when you aren’t able to see, and words feel violent if you’ve deprived yourself of your voice. 

There’s a solemnity to the novel, as it deals with loss, and a quietude (we’re talking inner experience v. dialogue) that invites you to sit in stillness and drink it in. With The Rachel Incident, LA’s helicopters didn’t perturb my reading experience; in Greek Lessons, I required complete focus – which, incidentally, drew me closer to the characters’ experiences. It’s a beautiful, strange book, and made me grateful that translations like this exist. 

Eat

Winter has officially arrived in LA (cue eye roll from my Midwest family), and with it, a desire to be enveloped in coziness: reading by the fire, woolen socks and meals cooked with heat. I never tire of the body signaling its need for comfort, and I’m all too keen to deliver, especially when it comes to quick, versatile meals. This sauce obviously doesn’t count as a meal, but I promise you, it’s a gateway to many. It’s thick, onion-heavy, gently spiced and clings to a spoon (non-negotiable, imo). This is a safe space, so I’ll state for the record that I’m not a pasta person. But I’m both a tomato and a sauce person so hopefully you’ll still trust me after this one. A few ideas to use the Sauce:

• Polenta topped with Sauce (add sauteed or roasted mushrooms for heft), finished with shaved pecorino or Parm

• Ditto the above recipe, but swap spaghetti squash for polenta

• Sauce + sauteed tofu or tempeh, finished with herbs or persillade (a simple Provencal blended sauce of parsley, garlic and evoo that’s endlessly useful) 

• Fish cooked in Sauce (you can do this on the stovetop or in an oven-safe dish; Halibut, cod and bass are all great here). If you haven’t tried this, it’s revelatory! 

• Shakshuka (simply crack a few eggs into Sauce divots, cover and cook until the whites are firm), finished with a stream of garlicky tahini and sprigs of dill

• Sauce, greens + beans! Cook beans per your preferred method. Heat the sauce, add greens (collards, kale, chard, etc) til they’re wilted, then the beans, and eat the lot with crusty bread

Tomato Sauce for Non-Pasta People
Makes roughly 4 servings

Evoo
2 onions (I used one red and one yellow here), peeled, halved and sliced into thin half-moons
7 cloves garlic, smashed and sliced
2 tablespoons tomato paste (optional but it really amps up the umami)
½ teaspoon sweet smoked paprika, aka pimentón dulce
1 preserved lemon, peel finely chopped, guts removed (save for vinaigrette)
2 sprigs sage
1 28-ounce can good peeled tomatoes (you can use crushed, too, but I love the sensation of crushing a peeled tomato with a wooden spoon)
Kosher salt

In a wide, heavy-bottomed saucepan over low heat, heat a few healthy glugs of olive oil. This will form the base of your sauce, so don’t be stingy! More is more. Add the onions and garlic with a good pinch of Kosher salt, mix well and saute, stirring frequently, until the onions are nearly caramelized, about 25 minutes (for reference, I vacuumed my entire house while they cooked and they still weren’t done). Add the tomato paste, paprika, preserved lemon and sage and saute for another few minutes until things start smelling tomato-y. Tip in the tomatoes, stir well and raise the heat to medium-low. Simmer the sauce, stirring occasionally, for about 30 minutes. You’ll know it’s ready when you stir and you can hear it gently pulling away from the pan (this is a very ASMR recipe, I’m realizing). Now taste: It should be gently smoky and richly acidic. Sometimes I add a splash of red wine vinegar here, but it’s not necessary! Season with Kosher salt and keep it refrigerated for up to a week.