By Rossi. $15.95; The Feminist Press; 276 pages
For the memoir of a celebrity chef, The Raging Skillet begins in an inauspicious place. Junior-high-aged Chef Rossi—who will one day cater an event where attendees include Gloria Steinem and Rosie Perez and the entire menu is based on the shape of the vagina—is serving her family pizza bagels. It's a rebellion against her mother's love for the microwave and cheap crackers.
Rebellion is Rossi's driving force for a while: She drops out of high school, dyes her hair pink and takes up with women, subsequently getting sent to live among Hasidic Jews in her family's attempt to "straighten her out." And so is the theme of unexpected places. The time in Crown Heights among the Hasids leads to bartending work on a boat, which winds its way to Rossi's eventual ownership of her own catering company: The Raging Skillet.
While there are periods of sheer freneticism, such as Rossi's teenage years and various kitchens of her employ, there are also tranquil moments, like when she falls in love with a librarian in Provincetown or after her mother passes away. Rossi spends a lot of time redeeming her mother, a seeming annoyance when we first meet her but later revealed about halfway through The —Raging Skillet to be a woman of great intelligence and potential who somehow ended up a suburban New Jersey housewife. And there's moments of tragedy—9/11 and Hurricane Sandy—where Rossi manages to create community around food, and these read as somber but ultimately uplifiting.
Rossi writes with good humor and cheer, joking about how stoned on Dramamine she got before preparing for the boat bartending job. The many variances in subject matter that she manages to narrate in an even-keeled yet goofy voice are a testament to her writing skills and offer insight into how she manages the chaos of a kitchen. This is a woman who doesn't take herself too seriously, is generous with her gifts, and learns from everyone she meets.
Recipes follow every chapter, and while I haven't tried making any of them, they look simple and delicious if quirky. Snickers-and-potato-chip casserole, anyone? These dishes illustrate Rossi's culinary and personal evolution. Their flexible nature coupled with their breezy quality—Rossi measures in plops and pinches and happily offers up variations on any dish—mirror The Raging Skillet reading experience. If Ruth Reichl's foodie memoirs and Kate Bornstein's A Queer and Pleasant Danger mated and smoked a lot of pot, this book would result. And that is a good thing.
