If you don’t come from a Fabulous Family, if the time before Mother’s Day through Father’s Day puts you in Hallmark Hell, if you ever thought of accepting an award by saying, “I did this in spite of my family,” then this book is for you.
“I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth and a knife in my back,” begins this memoir by Brigit Binns, author of nearly 30 cookbooks, editor of more than 40, and ghostwriter for celebrities. This is a woman with world-class brains, accepted to an Ivy League graduate school — Cornell’s program in East Asian Studies, because she was fluent in Mandarin and wrote her undergraduate thesis on Vietnamese Refugees — and whose parents refused to help her because they had already written her off as a Bad Seed.
The silver spoon part was a Hollywood actor father, Edward Binns, and a glam-drenched, designer-dressed gorgeous mother. The knife in the back part was world-class narcissism, alcoholism, and physical violence. Not many of us have to write a chapter of our lives called “Mommy’s Got a Gun.”
Edward Binns
Brigit is aware of the privilege part of her life, but her mother was so venomous that I think it is a miracle Brigit can tie her shoes. But she went to cooking school and loved it. Cooking, then catering, held her life together financially and emotionally when her marriage soured.
This is Brigit’s geographical journey from California to Asia to New York and New England to old England, to Spain, and back to California. At the same time, it is a classic journey of self-discovery, as she learns to shed the parental — mostly maternal — vile judgments inflicted on her and find her rightful place in the world. She writes about all of this with grace, wit, and compassion. And humor, including the culinary misses.
So, if this time of year is bad for you, here are some words from playwright Lillian Hellman, who wrote The Little Foxes, about one of the worst mothers ever — Bette Davis in the 1941 William Wyler movie (included with Amazon Prime). Hellman said “Your family is not who you are, they’re just where you’re from.” And the more distance the better. Run like hell.
Thank you so much Linda, for showcasing my new memoir with such very very kind words. Yours is the kind of reaction I hope for, and cherish. The idea that my journey may resonate with some, especially at this time of year, is exactly why I "opened the veins" and wrote such a raw and unflinching book. As I was recording the audiobook last week (release date June 18), the director/engineer said through my headphones "Can you give that sentence a funnier reading?" I responded: "I don't do 'funny,' I do wry. And also: Its the kind of funny that makes you sad, too."
Thank you again. I hope your readers will enjoy. xxx
Thank you for being so brave. And for somehow having avoided bitterness.