RANDOM JOTTINGS

I have just received the latest Inspector Montelbano mystery by Camilleri. The Cook of the Halycon. I buy them, in hardback, as they are published as I love them so much. There are very few authors who I would purchase in this way. (The other being the Sunday Philosophy Club series by McCall Smith and anything by Jane Thynne).  I have yet to read it so cannot review and the reason for my non reading is that I am saving it up for a treat. And if that sounds daft, ah well, I know Dear Readers that you will understand.

Camilleri said several years ago that he had about ten books written for future publication in case "I become senile or die".   Sadly, he is no longer with us and so I am very grateful for his foresight.

When I discovered Montalbano I was not sure I liked him very much but because I am a sucker for a series of books, the knowledge that there were several of them for me to find and would keep me going – simple as that.  I read them in a haphazard kind of way, totally out of order and then after half a dozen found I was hooked and that Montalbano had a dry wit and a caustic sense of humour that appealed to me and I found I was enjoying them. I then did my usual binge, read the lot and was then reduced to waiting for each new title to appear.

I just love the wit and humour of these books. I remember reading one late at night which had me howling with laughter and wondering if my neighbours would wonder what was going on, though I daresay they are used to me by now.  This particular hilarious episode featured the hapless and helpless Catarella who is so endearing and who worships the ground the inspector walks on.

Montalbano loves his food.   One of the joys of reading these books is the description of the meals which his housekeeper, a cook of great skill and taste, cooks for him for him.  He never knows what he is going to get and is always thrilled and delighted to see what is there.  He is also a well known figure in all the local restaurants and trattorias and seems to take incredibly long lunch breaks and then has to fight off sleep all afternoon.

"Back in the house he opened his refrigerator.  Adelina must have come down with a acute form of vegetarianism. Caponata and a sublime pasticcio of articholes and spinach.  He set the table on the  verandah and wolfed the caponata as the pasticcio heated up"

and later he receives a gift of food from the alluring Ingrid, an old "friend":

"He opened it and realised it was insulated.  Inside there were five round, transparent plastic containers in which he could see large fillets of pickled herring swimming in multicoloured sauces, there was also a whole smoked salmon……..first thing he did when he got home was attack the salmon. A hefty slice dressed with fresh lemon juice and a special oliver oil given him by the person who had made it  ..the virginity of this olive oil has been certified by a gynaecologist said the little ticket that had come with it"

I adore italy, always have done, history, music, food, wine – the lot.  When I read these books I cannot help but laughing and contrasting them with English detective fiction and the place of food within.  In the Bill Slider stories by Cynthia Harrod Eagles, Slider has a friend who loves to cook, there are mentions of fine food in the Ngaio Marsh stories but these are few and far between, though we are sure that Alleyn must be a lover of cuisine, and Lord Peter of course has a good palate, but on the whole the over riding memory of food and its place in your average detetive fiction seems to consist of rushed meals, Macdonalds, hamburgers and other ghastly food.  In the case of Inspector Frost, a much darker and more unpleasant character than the one we know and love from the TV series, his entire eating habits seem to be centred around fry ups in the police canteen or grabbing chicken tikka masala sandwiches from filling stations.

No contest really but if I have it wrong and anybody can come up with examples of food in Uk and US detective fiction which is worthy of a mention please let me know.  And yes, I know Hercule Porot loves his food so no need to tell me that one….