I had high hopes for The Sweet Life in Paris by David Lebovitz. On paper, it sounded like just the book for me: when have I ever turned down an ex-pat memoir about life in Paris? Including recipes usually just sweetens the deal. Not so this time.
Lebovitz is a pastry chef, which means that most of the recipes in this memoir (because it’s impossible to write a Paris-based memoir without recipes these days) are for sweets. His constant discussion of chocolate and other sweets weren’t fascinating enough to draw me, a savoury rather than sweet girl, in. The best food writers (think Nigel Slater) can overcome any reader’s preferences with effortless grace. Lebovitz was never once able to make me share his passion for marshmallows or macarons. That said, the recipes are clear and succinct and probably the best parts of the book, even though I wasn’t intrigued enough to try any of them.
I think what bothered me most about was the sheer arrogance Lebovitz displayed by moving to Paris without speaking French or even trying to understand the culture before arriving. Yes, he repeatedly chides ignorant American readers against coming to France and pulling an “Ugly American” – expecting to speak English and receive American-style service and deference. But that doesn’t stop him from doing the same and then adopting a kind of smug amusement as the quaintly rigid ways of the French. They trim green beans! (don’t most people?) They expect you to wear real clothes – not sweats! – when appearing in public! (like most civilised societies) And don’t even get him started on the etiquette surrounding any kind of shopping! I could have understood some naïveté initially but it is sustained throughout the book and, after a while, it grates.
There were some unintentionally hilarious moments, such as this quote: “Aside from our ability to form ourselves into nice straight lines in service-oriented situations, one of the most enduring traits of Americans is our ability to be self-deprecating and laugh at our foibles” (p. 77-78). If you’d asked me to name nations that were good at queuing, I can assure you America would not have been top of my list. Same goes for their ability to laugh at themselves, both as individuals and, especially, as a nation. These traits are typically, and with some reason, ascribed to the British and, to some extent, other mild-mannered members of the Commonwealth with self-esteem issues.
None of this was helped by the sheer ugliness of the hardcover edition I borrowed from my library. The chosen typefaces (and there were several) clashed horribly with one another and gave the book a dated, 1990s appearance. Considering that it was only published in 2009, this is inexcusable. The cover design is beautiful; it’s a shame that the same kind of aesthetic didn’t extend to the book’s interior.
A great disappointment. Perhaps this is best suited to those who haven’t read much about Paris previously but for those familiar with the city and its sights and customs it is a tedious waste of time and effort. Much better to reread the delightful and thoughtful Paris to the Moon by Adam Gopnik or new favourite Lunch in Paris by Elizabeth Bard.
The Captive Reader 
I had to laugh at your assessment of Americans lack of talent in queuing — and I agree. I think what keeps Americans from being able to laugh at themselves (as a nation, certainly there are individuals who are exceptions) is our pride (huge and oftentimes misplaced!). 🙂
Thanks for the review.
I think there are many individuals who are exceptions! Based on my experiences and from what I’ve seen on television, it seems that Americans seem to be particularly sensitive when there are jokes made about the nation itself, rather than individuals within in. Still, there are worse things than being proud of your nation and a tad sensitive about it.
Well goodness me, Claire! Clearly not a success with you on any level!
Yes I would have to agree that his rather rosy tinted view of his fellow countrymen is not exactly true – I have never heard so many people complain about having to wait in line than I have in New York. People phone other people just to tell them how peed off they are about waiting in a queue, when I just accept the situation and quietly go off into a land of thoughts for half an hour until I get to the front. What’s the point in making a fuss? It doesn’t make the queue go down any quicker!
Americans need to talk and share much more than English people. Hence this extraneous memoir, it would seem!
You didn’t feel tempted to try any of the recipes, then, at least?!
Unfortunately, no, I wasn’t tempted by any of the recipes.
I absolutely 100% agree about the American need to over-share. I work in the marketing department of a transportation company that operates in both Canada and the US and when I speak with American customers I find out the most shockingly intimate details that in no way whatsoever relate to the matter at hand. Fascinating but very, very strange.
I agree with you! Some of his recipes are intriguing, but he isn’t… ‘arrogance’ is the right word for it. (There was an interview with him in our local paper, and when the interviewer asked him one question – I forget what it was – his answer was that we could read about it in his book. I’m sure he meant to be funny, but…
I loved (loved!) Adam Gopnik’s book about his family’s return to New York, and Paris to the Moon is definitely on my reading list. Lunch in Paris was a much nicer read, as well!
I’m sticking with arrogance for now. Admittedly, my only knowledge of him comes through this book. Perhaps if I knew more about him I would be able to judge him less harshly.
I love Through the Children’s Gate as well and Paris to the Moon is even better!
It’s too bad about the book because I do enjoy his recipes or at least looking at the pictures on his blog.
I totally agree about the queuing — while there are many things to love about America, our ability to que is not one of them. 🙂 We’re far bahind the world in that.
I’m not particularly excited by the recipes on his blog either but I fully acknowledge that I seem to be in the minority with that opinion!
other mild-mannered members of the Commonwealth with self-esteem issues…
Like Canadians? 😉 I do like French desserts though, so I am a leetle interested in this now.
Ah, you saw through my rather half-hearted attempt to be suitably vague. Didn’t want to see like I was bragging about our amazing ability to form orderly lines. Others might get jealous.
The recipes aren’t particularly French, so I wouldn’t be rushing out to get this for that reason alone. There are a number of recipes on his blog that might help you out though, without having to flip through the book!
Oh I don’t bake (or cook really, it’s a little sad), but I do sometimes secretly wish I could make macarons. I am wanting to make an effort to do some nice Christmas baking this year, we’ll see how that goes!
Too bad. I like his recipes. I’ve had bad luck with memoirs of chefs/cooks lately. A lot of them seem to have that arrogance vibe going.
Most of the memoirs I read, even the ones with recipes, are by people who aren’t trained cooks. Maybe that makes a difference? The best chef’s memoir I’ve read is Madhur Jaffrey’s Climbing the Mango Trees. No arrogance there, just charm and amazing recipes.
Right on, Carolyn. In fact, I believe we laugh most at ourselves about our sheer mild-manneredness, such as excusing ourselves to people who bump into us.
Put Sri Lankans also in that queue of not being able to queue! And I doubt Sri Lankans can laugh at themselves.
I must admit my ignorance about Sri Lankans, so I’ll have to take your word for it!
Hi Claire,
Sorry this memoir didn’t work out for you, but after reading your review, I can see why! Ugh.
I’m going to look for Madhur Jaffrey’s memoir you mention above. Thanks for the rec! 😉
Oh, I do hope you enjoy the Jaffrey if you’re able to find a copy! It’s absolutely lovely.
David Lebovitz’s blog, davidlebovitz.com, is actually pretty friendly and thoughtful in tone, often funny, and generally not arrogant (opinionated, yes–but then, so’s everyone in Paris when it comes to food or losing “negotiations” with the phone company). The blog contains quite a number of solidly crafted recipes for savory dishes–French, Moroccan, even Korean–as well as really clear and practical notes on what to look for at what stage of cooking, how to rescue something, etc. From your review I would guess you haven’t visited his blog and were reading this book “cold” (might be a general problem with blog-based books). You might visit and poke around a bit–I think you’d get a very different impression of him and his attitudes toward Paris and the French.
I have checked out the blog and I still find him rather obnoxious. To each their own!