Concluding November is The Girl Who Chased the Moon, a sugar-sweet novel by Sarah Addison Allen. And what goes better with a book about the power of baking than a German Chocolate Cake?
The Girl Who Chased the Moon is effervescent, breathless in its magic and flavor. Sarah Addison Allen weaves a narrative of youth and forgiveness in a novel you want to sink your teeth into. Shimmering with detail and bordering on saccharine, this is a book I won’t soon forget.
Southern Comfort
Things high school senior Emily Benedict didn’t have on her to-do list: moving to a tiny town in North Carolina to live with the grandfather she never knew she had. And yet when her mother unexpectedly passes away in a car accident, Emily finds herself in Mullaby, a Southern town rife with interesting characters, centuries-old secrets, and just a pinch of magic.
Living in her mother’s old bedroom and struggling to get to know her closed-off Grandpa Vance, Emily befriends her neighbor and resident baker Julia Winterson. Their new friendship isn’t all that simple, though, as Emily discovers that her thoughtful, activist mother Dulcie wasn’t the same woman everyone in Mullaby knew years ago, the person they continue to whisper about over a decade later. Who was Dulcie Benedict, and what legacy has she left here to haunt Mullaby?
Baking her way through her own problems, doubts, and dreams, Julia, too, seeks to get in touch with her past and understand her future. For her, each cake is a beacon, a wish enshrined in sugar and flour. And with the help of young Emily, Julia begins to see all that life could be for her in the tiny town she thought she could escape.
“Crystalline swirls of sugar and flour still lingered in the air like kite tails. And then there was the smell - the smell of hope, the kind of smell that brought people home.”
Julia and Emily embark on twin journeys to understand where home truly is, and the power we let the past hold over us.
All Sugar, No Spice
A friend actually recommended this book to me, and I was attracted by the synopsis' focus on cakes, especially given the theme of this month’s pairings (bakes). In an effort to expand my usual fiction bubble, I also chose this book for its magic realism; I loved fantasy/magical YA books in middle and high school, but haven't returned much to the genre since.
Rarely have I encountered a novel so rich in imagery and sensory details. I’ve long known that I am a sucker for poetic prose (case in point: I’ll Give You the Sun’s long-standing place on my list of favorite books), but the characters’ relationship with cakes and food in this sweet Southern town was wholly unique. Allen's lyrical writing and beautiful dialogue lifted the story, made it tangible; I hardly wanted to put it down. I also loved the power attributed to baking - love and grief's ability to take a physical form in a cake. In fact, I enjoyed how Julia and Emily’s stories intertwined throughout the narrative, and how they connected through food like barbecue and bakes.
However, I felt that both characters required further development. Emily never seemed to truly grieve the death of her mother, or, really, show much emotion at all, except in relationship to a boy in town. Though I recognize that there is no one way to mourn loss, she never really seemed sad (or emotional, period) when thinking of her mother or living in her mother’s childhood bedroom. I began to understand their relationship more as Emily uncovered Dulcie’s past in Mullaby, but her generally unfeeling nature inhibited my ability to empathize with her or truly see her as a dimensional character. Win Coffey, too, was largely singular in character, and though he came across as an unreliable narrator, I never felt that I understood his personality or motivations even a little. Grandpa Vance and Julia were relatively well-developed and given some substance courtesy of darker backstories; I liked witnessing Julia’s growth and passion. The way Julia was written felt magnetic, and I’d love a whole book dedicated to her story.
I’ll add that the entire story felt breathless as I read in anticipation to see how the magic, fear, and grief of our protagonists would come together in the end. But the narrative ended so abruptly, so bluntly, that it felt like the drama fizzled out. Though I liked the actual endings each character found, the novel built my excitement and seemed to be leading to a grand reveal or pivotal moment for Emily and Julia, only to conclude with a quiet, almost unnoticeable denouement. To say I was disappointed by the narrative structure is an understatement; Allen could have done these characters and their stories justice in just 20+ more pages. Instead, the grandeur and mystery came crashing down unceremoniously, devoting mere sentences to our characters’ summation and failing to tie up several loose ends.
I really, really wanted to give this novel 4 stars, because I was so enchanted by the language and magic within the pages. Like, I obviously wish I could bake these ethereal cakes and communicate with others through them, too. However, the poor character-building and anticlimactic ending didn’t do justice to these protagonists and left me wanting more for them. Thus, I sadly award The Girl Who Chased the Moon 3.5 stars out of 5. I’m certainly open to reading more magic realism or other books by Sarah Addison Allen, but I can't hide my disappointment in this book. I’d recommend it to readers who enjoyed I’ll Give You the Sun, the Legend series, or The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake.
My Time as Julia
Originally planning to try my hand at a Hummingbird Cake in homage to Julia and the South, I remembered that my dad's birthday is this week, and figured my baking interests might best serve my family if I baked his favorite cake, instead. (Although it's one of my favorites, too, so I barely needed the excuse.) So, I borrowed my mom's tried-and-true German Chocolate Cake recipe from Tastes Better From Scratch and got to work. Our copy is printed on green paper and bears the stains of many years - that's when you know it's a good recipe.
The basic rudiments are a chocolate cake, coconut-pecan caramel frosting, and chocolate frosting. Dark, rich, and infinitely tempting, this bake is equal parts simple and stressful to prepare. Though the cake itself can be whipped up in a matter of minutes and calls for ingredients regularly found in the kitchen, the caramel frosting always freaks me out - especially after years of studiously watching The Great British Baking Show. I live in fear of the day I ruin, burn, or crystallize a caramel and have to start all over again. Luckily, and under my mother's watchful eye, I kept the caramel alive with many minutes of frantic stirring. (But at what cost?)
As I fretted over my layers and the moisture of the cake, I didn't feel the magic or release that Julia experienced with each bake, but I did put an awful lot of hope into it. I can see why Allen chose to integrate the magic and emotion of baking so carefully into her narrative; it can be so full of intention and meaning. Now, when will my bakes summon a long-lost lover to my doorstep? You'll be the first to know.
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