The Kitch Lit Series: Dessert?

There is no good explanation as to why there are Easter-hued cupcakes on the cover of When in Doubt, Add Butter. You see, Gemma is a personal chef, not a baker. But sugar sells, in the cereal aisle and on bookshelves, so, I suppose, to place blame for this red herring would be to blame myself, the sugar-hungry consumer.

Gemma Craig is single in her late thirties (meaning, still quite young, but too old to conform to societal norms) and she leads a quiet life. She truly loves cooking for a living, though it may not be as financially lucrative as some other options. Gemma maintains a close relationship with a fellow chef/server and her cousin who lives nearby, but her circle of trust is pretty small and coupledom is not part of her MO. Gemma lives vicariously through her clients and focuses her time providing sustenance to others rather than nurturing herself.

We meet Gemma's clients and learn their food proclivities and peculiarities. There’s the uberwealthy family whose matriarch is seemingly allergic to anything with flavor, the potential Russian mobsters, homebound Willa and a mysterious man, "Mr. Tuesday," with whom she communicates solely through short notes left on the kitchen counter. They seem to share a similar sense of humor and would likely get along, but they never cross paths. Not knowingly, anyway. The plot relies on several very coincidental circumstances, but it is such a fun, breezy read that the contrivance is easily accepted. 

When in Doubt, Add Butter is kitch lit lite. The focus is not really on the food or the profession of cooking, but that is not a surprise. Harbison does not pretend to set out to make a book focused solely on the craft of cooking. Gemma’s takes a risk one evening that leads her down a path that is equal parts familiar and uncharted territory. By the end of the book, Gemma’s circle of trust has grown like a soufflé baking in the oven and her journey is just as deliciously light and fun.

Not Just Your Imagination

As an elder millennial, my adoration of the 50s and 60s sound was rarely understood by my contemporaries, most of whom were saving their allowance for NSYNC tickets. But, you see, I was born a generation too late. The rise of Motown is a seminal moment in music history, and to have witnessed the ascent would have been ideal but, alas, I must rely on books, movies and jukebox musicals to transport me to times gone by. Thus it was with great excitement that I marched over to the Imperial Theatre and purchased one of the last four partial view for Ain’t Too Proud - The Life and Times of The Temptations (note: when the ticket agent tells you it's partial view, that's a truth fact--how many gents were in the group? I usually only saw three). While the show suffers from a bit of a lack of focus, Ain’t Too Proud has a couple of things going for it: The Temptations music catalog and Sergio Trujillo’s choreography. 

Ain’t Too Proud is a jukebox musical in the vein of Jersey Boys and Beautiful, wherein the group's music catalog is used to tell the story of the group itself. In this case, Otis Williams (played by Curtis Wiley on this night) acts as narrator for the story of a group that rockets to fame and subsequently struggles to navigate the positive and negative consequences of such a meteoric rise. And Williams, whose personality and ambition put him in the role of de facto leader, fights to keep The Temps together and relevant. Surrounding it all, a tale as old as time: sex, drugs and rock and roll. 

Dominque Morisseau’s book keeps the action moving. With families back home, members spiraling into addiction and the surrounding political climate, there is enough drama to fill a couple of musicals. The moments that touch on the growing civil rights movement are strong. In fact, the scene in which the group learns of the death of Martin Luther King, Jr. is the most powerful in the show. That said, because most of the drama takes place within the group itself, the forays into the outside world somehow feel a little out of place. Morisseau faced a difficult task. Ignoring the political climate would have been ignoring an important component to the group's rise but highlighting only the group dynamics is perhaps more suitable to the style of show.

What is not out of place is Sergio Trujillo’s Tony-winning choreography. As one who longs for the days of synchronized man dancing, Trujillo’s choreography is spot on. The knees, the hips, the arms and wrists pop, bend and swoop in perfect synchronization. The entire cast does a stellar job of making the moves look like second nature.

And, of course, there is the music. Most Temps songs are a variation on a theme: love. Loss of love, longing for love, begging for love, The Temps covered it from all angles. The hits ("My Girl," "For Once in My Life") no doubt receive just as raucous a greeting every night as they did on this chilly fall evening. Thirty one songs are listed in the Playbill and pretty much every single one causes an eruption of applause. Sometimes the musical numbers feel packed in, perhaps not given room to breathe, but they are all hits, not a bad apple in the bushel. 

Ain't Too Proud may not be a perfect musical but the dancing, shiny suits and incredible music combine to make it a perfectly fun night out.