The Joy of Crime Cooking

... which is not the same as recipes for murder

I was thinking about cooking in books.

To be clear, this is not about Hannibal Lecter and his “fava beans with a nice chianti”, although he’s definitely a foodie. I’m interested in more conventional instances of culinary delights in crime fiction.

The first book that comes to mind is It Can’t Always Be Caviar, a spy story by Austrian writer Johannes Mario Simmel (if you know that book, give me a shout, it’s a forgotten gem). I don’t remember how I stumbled upon it, maybe because I was reading a lot of John Le Carré at the time and it fell in that category, although with a much lighter and humorous touch. The plot is buried somewhere in my memory but I remember the recipes that were sprinkled all over the book, one recipe in particular for a classic Sacher Torte, the famous chocolate cake from Vienna’s Sacher Hotel. Simmel was born in Vienna and the locals have a sweet tooth. I spent a week there years ago and every terrace and café in the numerous parks was scrumptious temptation with a helping of whipped cream. My friend and I went to the Sacher and had a slice of that chocolate masterpiece—never underestimate the influence of literature on the taste buds!

I followed the book’s recipe and made the cake a couple of times. My dark chocolate glaze wasn’t as smoothly impeccable as what the picture below shows, but the cake was delicious. Warning: this is not a piece of sugary fluff full of air. The thing is dense, barely sweet, and should be appreciated in small doses with a cup of coffee. The same could be said about some crime fiction. (I’m reading Jim Thompson’s The Getaway right now and you can’t zip through that book with careless abandon. It requires focus.)

Another book with a lot of food in it is The Ipcress File by Len Deighton. Cooking also features prominently in the movie adaptation with Michael Caine as Harry Palmer, the main character. Deighton loved cooking. Ipcress is another spy story. Maybe chefs make good secret agents. Following instructions but capable of improvisation, precise measuring, patience, timing …

Spenser, in the Robert B. Parker detective series, also knows his way around a kitchen. When, in A Savage Place, he makes pasta for the woman he’s been hired to protect, the big hunk becomes lovable. He’s also funny, and literate. That man is a catch.

I haven’t noticed a lot of cooking in recent crime fiction. The protagonists seem to live on coffee, beer, or hard liquor but rarely wander near a stove to prepare a meal.

A notable exception is Caesar Stiles in Andrew Cotto’s Brooklyn Mystery series (Outerborough Blues and Black Irish Blues). Andrew Cotto is a journalist and lover of Italian cuisine. He’s been spotted on YouTube doing cooking demonstrations. Of course, his main character will be comfortable handling pots and pans. He’s also pretty handy in a tussle. The combination makes for a fun read. Warmly recommended. I have another book by Andrew on my to-be-read pile called Cucina Tipica, there might be recipes in there, I’ll keep you posted.

I don’t mind putting Declan Shaw, my private detective, in the kitchen. He isn’t a cordon bleu but he manages. In Love You Till Tuesday, he doesn’t have the opportunity to do much more than reheat meatloaf leftovers and make chicken korma with sauce from a jar, but, in his defense, he spends a good chunk of the book with his jaw wired. When all you can consume is smoothies and yoghurts, the motivation to cook a feast is understandably low.

Declan ups his game in the book I’m currently revising (no title yet). He’s in East Texas on a missing person case and meets a veterinarian who might give him a lead. The vet is a tall brunette with a snappy attitude. He invites her to dinner and she declines. Her reason: I can’t be seen with you. That, of course, raises his interest and he offers to cook for her. Pretty bold move frankly, and far from a done-deal until she shows up on his doorstep. Here are a few lines …

There was enough in the fridge to cobble together something edible, and the wine Declan bought was good. He made a salad. Healthy stuff to make a good impression. He got plates, silverware, and wine glasses. One of the kitchen drawers contained a bag of tea lights. He filled a salad bowl with water and floated the small candles. He hoped it would make her smile, like he was trying, but not so hard that it came across needy.

This is the kind of scene that can turn sexy at the drop of a spoon. No spoiler alert but the salad will go uneaten, and the next evening, she will bring dinner. To know how that relationship moves forward, you’ll have to wait. Let’s say that nothing is what it seems.

In closing, I’ll leave you with a question: crime writers have no qualms about putting their male protagonists in the bedroom, why are they skittish about showing them in the kitchen, unless it’s to grab a knife in a life-or-death fight? Is it fear of appearing domesticated? Is it dread of the soapy slide, today the crockpot, tomorrow the vacuum cleaner? I don’t read cozy mysteries, so my perspective is probably skewed (do shenanigans take place in la cuisine in cozy mysteries?) but for the sake of realism, I wish our gritty hardboiled characters led a full life beyond the coffee maker and the ice dispenser. Maybe they could cook with cast iron. That’s tough, right?

Do you know crime novels where the main character cooks? No cannibals or Sweeney Todd pie-makers please ….

Bon Appétit!

P.S.: I didn’t include that Sacher Torte recipe because I don’t know where I put it …

The first reviews are coming in for Love You Till Tuesday

… classic novel. Classic premise. Classic characters. I loved it.

… looking forward to the next book in the series.

… an action-packed tale with more twists and turns than a funhouse maze.

… smart, sexy, funny. Stands tall with anything else I've read in the genre.

Get yours, friends. Paperbacks and eBooks here.

Essays and Blogs

I wrote a little essay for the Do Some Damage blog: The Heady Romance of Detective Fiction. Have a read.

And another for Kevin’s Corner called: For the Love of the Detective Novel.

And I had a short story published at Tough

This was written a while ago, but publishing takes time. Conscience Money features one of my recurrent characters, Sheriff Mae Rollins. I like her a lot. The story is free to read.