The School of Essential Ingredients

By Erica Bauermeister



In Erica Bauermeister's first novel, The School of Essential Ingredients, the reader can expect to be tucked into an inviting pocket of warmth. From the first page of the prologue, the story is magnetic, creating a secure environment in which any reader will languish in the details of the setting, and the images and smells (and emotions) created while the characters are cooking food.

It may sound like a simple enough premise, and it is; however, the simplicity is the beauty of it. Every element of the book is described in such an original yet honest way, the reader will feel like the ninth member of the cooking class the story revolves around.

The only caveat of this book is that if you are on a strict diet, you may have a problem adhering to it when the smells and sounds and flavors come to life on the page before you. Try to keep your mouth from watering when you read:

Once the crabs were clean, Lillian explained that they were going to be roasted in the oven. "We'll make a sauce, and it will permeate into the meat through the cracks in the shell. The best way to eat it is with your hands."

The class reassembled in their seats facing the wooden counter in the middle of the room. Lillian put out the ingredients--- sticks of butter, mounds of chopped onion and minced ginger and garlic, a bottle of white wine, pepper, lemons.

"We'll melt the butter first," she explained, "and then cook the onions until they become translucent." The class could hear the small snaps as the onions met the hot surface. "Make sure the butter doesn't brown though," Lillian cautioned, "or it will taste burned."

When the pieces of onion began to disappear into the butter, Lillian quickly added the minced ginger, a new smell, part kiss, part playful slap. Garlic came next, a soft, warm cushion under the ginger, followed by salt and pepper.

"You can add some red pepper flakes, if you like," Lillian said, "and more or less garlic or ginger or other ingredients, depending on the mood you're in or the one you want to create. Now," she continued, "we'll coat the crab and roast it in the oven."

Erica Bauermeister also masterfully brought each image to life:

The kitchen was ready. The long stainless-steel counters lay before her, expansive and cool in the dark. Lillian knew without looking that Robert had received the vegetable order from the produce man who delivered only on Mondays. Caroline would have stood over skinny, smart-mouthed Daniel until the floors were scrubbed, the thick rubber mats rinsed with the hose outside until they were black and shining. Beyond the swinging door on the other side of the kitchen, the dining room stood ready, a quiet field of tables under starched white linen, napkins folded into sharp triangles at each place. But no one would use the kitchen tonight. All that mattered was the kitchen.

There are passages in the book that prove to the reader that Erica Bauermeister "just gets it." Every mother would appreciate the lines:

"...after the children were born, it was as if no one could see further than the soft hair, the round cheeks of the babies she carried. She became the frame for the picture that was her son and daughter."

It is no overstatement to say that The School of Essential Ingredients is easily one of the best books I have read in a very long time. As each character is developed in their own chapter, the reader is witness to the evolution of strength by each person. In the end, they are all better people, happier people than when they came to the first cooking class. The entire novel is uplifting and inspiring, truly a treasure to anyone who likes a little sunshine in their life.