Genre Fiction
![Kim Fay - [object Object] author](https://res.cloudinary.com/readsomnia/image/upload/authors/a_B002BLTBD8.jpg)
Love & Saffron: A Novel of Friendship, Food, and Love
The Instant National Bestseller and #1 Indie Next Pick
In the vein of the classic 84, Charing Cross Road, this witty and tender novel is a sensuous experience of food and a deep friendship between two very different women in 1960s America.
Two strangers. One recipe. A friendship for the ages.
Creamy risotto alla Milanese. Mussels in a hot, buttery broth. Chicken spiced with cinnamon and cloves. Joan Bergstrom and Imogen Fortier understand the key to a savored life-delicious food. Young Joan is just discovering herself as a foodwriter in bustling Los Angeles, while experienced columnist Imogen is settled in her decades-long marriage on Camano Island outside Seattle. When Joan sends a fan letter to Imogen with an enclosed packet of saffron and a recipe, their journey of culinary exploration and soul-deep friendship begins. A long-lost flavor surfaces buried memories, and a quest to make carne asada opens the doors of a sheltered life. Into this beautiful, intimate world comes the ultimate test of their friendship, and of their belief that food and love can sustain us during our darkest hours.
In the vein of the classic 84, Charing Cross Road, this witty and tender novel is a sensuous experience of food and a deep friendship between two very different women in 1960s America.
Two strangers. One recipe. A friendship for the ages.
Creamy risotto alla Milanese. Mussels in a hot, buttery broth. Chicken spiced with cinnamon and cloves. Joan Bergstrom and Imogen Fortier understand the key to a savored life-delicious food. Young Joan is just discovering herself as a foodwriter in bustling Los Angeles, while experienced columnist Imogen is settled in her decades-long marriage on Camano Island outside Seattle. When Joan sends a fan letter to Imogen with an enclosed packet of saffron and a recipe, their journey of culinary exploration and soul-deep friendship begins. A long-lost flavor surfaces buried memories, and a quest to make carne asada opens the doors of a sheltered life. Into this beautiful, intimate world comes the ultimate test of their friendship, and of their belief that food and love can sustain us during our darkest hours.
Editorial Reviews
One of Library Journal's Historical Fiction Bestsellers
One of Booklist's Editors' Choice for Audiobooks
One of Bookreporter's Favorite Books of 2022
One of The Buzz Magazine's Best Books of 2022
"Part historical fiction, part friendship saga, and part carnival for the senses, Love & Saffron isn't just for food lovers-it's an ode to risk-takers, trailblazers, and the chefs in all of us. With lush descriptions of food and a resonant historical setting, Love & Saffron is a sweet, savory, and emotional pleasure. It's like a dinner with friends you won't want to end." -J. Ryan Stradal, author of Kitchens of the Great Midwest
"Impossible to put down… By the end, I was shedding tears along with the characters, and felt as if I'd made two friends. This is an irresistible story of two women from a lost time, both determined to make the best of things." -The Seattle Times
"Delicious food, wonderful characters, and adventures abound in this delightful story that simmers with affection." -Christian Science Monitor
"Fiction and culinary travel writer Fay (The Map of Lost Memories, 2012) has crafted a delectable second novel showing how food can bring people together, even across distances and cultures…Fay's emotionally generous novel demonstrates how people's worlds can expand when they open themselves to new possibilities. Readers will be touched by this enriching tale and inspired to embark on their own international culinary adventures." -Booklist
"Fay's touch is deft...The story leaves the reader wanting more-more recipes, more letters, more time in the gentle, unfolding friendship of these two women. A glimpse into a friendship that doesn't hesitate to touch on joy, sadness, love, and death." -Kirkus Reviews
"Unutterably delightful…In this sweet, slender novel, Fay uses vibrant food descriptions to connect her two main characters and to assist them in coping with the dire news of an alarming era…Perfect for those burned out by current news cycles, Love & Saffron is a gentle escape to the past, and also a reminder both that others have survived ‘unprecedented times,' and that deep connections can be made even when...
One of Booklist's Editors' Choice for Audiobooks
One of Bookreporter's Favorite Books of 2022
One of The Buzz Magazine's Best Books of 2022
"Part historical fiction, part friendship saga, and part carnival for the senses, Love & Saffron isn't just for food lovers-it's an ode to risk-takers, trailblazers, and the chefs in all of us. With lush descriptions of food and a resonant historical setting, Love & Saffron is a sweet, savory, and emotional pleasure. It's like a dinner with friends you won't want to end." -J. Ryan Stradal, author of Kitchens of the Great Midwest
"Impossible to put down… By the end, I was shedding tears along with the characters, and felt as if I'd made two friends. This is an irresistible story of two women from a lost time, both determined to make the best of things." -The Seattle Times
"Delicious food, wonderful characters, and adventures abound in this delightful story that simmers with affection." -Christian Science Monitor
"Fiction and culinary travel writer Fay (The Map of Lost Memories, 2012) has crafted a delectable second novel showing how food can bring people together, even across distances and cultures…Fay's emotionally generous novel demonstrates how people's worlds can expand when they open themselves to new possibilities. Readers will be touched by this enriching tale and inspired to embark on their own international culinary adventures." -Booklist
"Fay's touch is deft...The story leaves the reader wanting more-more recipes, more letters, more time in the gentle, unfolding friendship of these two women. A glimpse into a friendship that doesn't hesitate to touch on joy, sadness, love, and death." -Kirkus Reviews
"Unutterably delightful…In this sweet, slender novel, Fay uses vibrant food descriptions to connect her two main characters and to assist them in coping with the dire news of an alarming era…Perfect for those burned out by current news cycles, Love & Saffron is a gentle escape to the past, and also a reminder both that others have survived ‘unprecedented times,' and that deep connections can be made even when...
Readers Top Reviews
JoyceJackie Houch
I'm a big fan of epistolary novels (letters) such as The Color Purple and Letters from Yellowstone--even the very first novel in English, Pamela by Samuel Richardson. This was a heartwarming story that I read about through the weekly Minnesota Public Radio "The Thread" newsletter. Travel back to the 1960s when garlic wasn't often available in stores--a different world for cooks. At least two hankies near the end.
S. ShawJoyceJacki
This book was recommended by a dear friend. I confess, about 25% of the way through I almost quit. You see, I am not a foodie. Far from it. But I ft there was more coming that I didn't want to miss,and I am so glad I kept reading. It is a beautiful story of friendship and devotion. I fell in love with Immy and Joan and their heartwarming friendship
CATHERINE BARRENT
I loved the story of a friendship between two women, far apart in age and part of the country. They are truly soulmates. It reminded me of a long-ago book and movie, 84 Charing Cross Road.
BritLit teacherCA
Sweet and spicy...but I liked the Potato Peel Pie that the gang in Guernsey produced in 2009 better. (and BTW I liked Remarkable Bright Creatures better than both).
Diking77BritLit t
A lovely book that captures the heart of true friendship. Well developed characters and a love of great cooking completes this novel.
Short Excerpt Teaser
October 8, 1962
Los Angeles, Calif.
Dear Mrs. Fortier,
I hope this letter finds you well. For that matter, I hope it finds you, since I am sending it to Northwest Home & Life magazine, where I so enjoyed your recent tale about digging for clams. I laughed out loud at your smug heron and briny crown of kelp. I admire women who do not care if they look foolish in front of others, even though I am not one of them.
I am a dedicated reader of "Letter from the Island," and I send my congratulations for your ten-year anniversary as its author. I have known it from the beginning when I was seventeen. Mother loves her magazine subscriptions, and every month, as soon as they arrive, she folds back the pages to her favorite columns. The first two she reads are always yours and Gladys Taber's "Butternut Wisdom" in Family Circle. I prefer yours. It makes me feel like I am having a conversation with a good friend, and your enthusiasm for life has taught me to be more aware of my own world around me, and especially the outdoors. Believe it or not, Los Angeles has much to offer in the way of natural beauty if you pay close attention.
I notice you have written about mussels a few times, but you only ever mention cooking clams. I recently learned a creative mussel recipe from a Frenchwoman I met on a voyage to the Far East. I am enclosing a packet of saffron from that voyage. It is my small way of thanking you for "Letter from the Island."
For steamed mussels, in a stockpot add a generous pinch of saffron, coarsely chopped garlic, and parsley to a half cup melted butter. The red enamel pot you mentioned in your column about racing Dungeness crabs, the one with the pockmark from your niece's Red Ryder BB gun, will do perfectly. If you can't find fresh garlic, shallots can be substituted, but in my opinion, without fresh garlic the dish isn't worth making. The Frenchwoman told me the addition of a cup or so of white wine is considered standard for this broth, but she prefers vermouth. I agree with her. It gives the dish a crisp, botanical flavor, and I can save my Chablis for drinking with my meal.
Your not-so-secret admirer,
Miss Joan Bergstrom
FROM THE DESK OF MRS. IMOGEN FORTIER
October 12, 1962
Camano Island, Wash.
Dear Miss Bergstrom,
Greetings from the eye of the storm. Typhoon Freda churned to life a few days ago in the far reaches of the Pacific and got it into her stormy head to roar in our direction. I wonder, is she still a typhoon once she lands on American shores? Meteorological semantics isn't my area of expertise, and my trusty Britannicas are safely hunkered down on the shelves at home. Francis and I came out to the cabin for the Columbus Day weekend to pick mussels and try the saffron you so thoughtfully sent. Instead, we've been battening our hatches.
Apologies for the tottery penmanship. I didn't bring my typewriter with me since my intention was to write to you next week after I made your recipe with great success. Not only do I not mind looking foolish, I'm an optimist! Unfortunately, we didn't collect a single mussel, and I'm writing by the light of a kerosene lantern because the power has gone out.
I'm writing rather than pacing because my pacing was driving Francis crazy. He finally told me to do something to take my mind off the storm. Easier said than done. This afternoon the sky turned black and filled with spectral yellow streaks, and now it feels like our wood-clad cabin will wash away at any minute. This isn't an unreasonable fear, considering it's old wartime housing that we had floated to its present location four years ago on a barge from the naval shipyard down west of Seattle. I've never experienced gales like this before, or maybe I have, but the windstorm of 1934 came at the height of the Depression when I was a weary housewife, feeling a thousand years old rather than the thirty-one I actually was, and my larder was down to a questionable jar of dried beef. A house blown off its foundation seemed like the least of our worries during those bleak times.
I tried reading but can't concentrate on the only unread novel here on our shelves. A Book of the Month selection, Rabbit, Run, by a self-satisfied-looking stuffed shirt named John Updike. It was left behind by my friend Hazel. After tormenting myself with a few morose chapters, I began to suspect Hazel abandoned it on purpose. While the storm could fairly be blamed for my lack of charity, I'm sure I would find this book a toil in clear weather, too. The protagonist gazes at his navel as if he is t...
Los Angeles, Calif.
Dear Mrs. Fortier,
I hope this letter finds you well. For that matter, I hope it finds you, since I am sending it to Northwest Home & Life magazine, where I so enjoyed your recent tale about digging for clams. I laughed out loud at your smug heron and briny crown of kelp. I admire women who do not care if they look foolish in front of others, even though I am not one of them.
I am a dedicated reader of "Letter from the Island," and I send my congratulations for your ten-year anniversary as its author. I have known it from the beginning when I was seventeen. Mother loves her magazine subscriptions, and every month, as soon as they arrive, she folds back the pages to her favorite columns. The first two she reads are always yours and Gladys Taber's "Butternut Wisdom" in Family Circle. I prefer yours. It makes me feel like I am having a conversation with a good friend, and your enthusiasm for life has taught me to be more aware of my own world around me, and especially the outdoors. Believe it or not, Los Angeles has much to offer in the way of natural beauty if you pay close attention.
I notice you have written about mussels a few times, but you only ever mention cooking clams. I recently learned a creative mussel recipe from a Frenchwoman I met on a voyage to the Far East. I am enclosing a packet of saffron from that voyage. It is my small way of thanking you for "Letter from the Island."
For steamed mussels, in a stockpot add a generous pinch of saffron, coarsely chopped garlic, and parsley to a half cup melted butter. The red enamel pot you mentioned in your column about racing Dungeness crabs, the one with the pockmark from your niece's Red Ryder BB gun, will do perfectly. If you can't find fresh garlic, shallots can be substituted, but in my opinion, without fresh garlic the dish isn't worth making. The Frenchwoman told me the addition of a cup or so of white wine is considered standard for this broth, but she prefers vermouth. I agree with her. It gives the dish a crisp, botanical flavor, and I can save my Chablis for drinking with my meal.
Your not-so-secret admirer,
Miss Joan Bergstrom
FROM THE DESK OF MRS. IMOGEN FORTIER
October 12, 1962
Camano Island, Wash.
Dear Miss Bergstrom,
Greetings from the eye of the storm. Typhoon Freda churned to life a few days ago in the far reaches of the Pacific and got it into her stormy head to roar in our direction. I wonder, is she still a typhoon once she lands on American shores? Meteorological semantics isn't my area of expertise, and my trusty Britannicas are safely hunkered down on the shelves at home. Francis and I came out to the cabin for the Columbus Day weekend to pick mussels and try the saffron you so thoughtfully sent. Instead, we've been battening our hatches.
Apologies for the tottery penmanship. I didn't bring my typewriter with me since my intention was to write to you next week after I made your recipe with great success. Not only do I not mind looking foolish, I'm an optimist! Unfortunately, we didn't collect a single mussel, and I'm writing by the light of a kerosene lantern because the power has gone out.
I'm writing rather than pacing because my pacing was driving Francis crazy. He finally told me to do something to take my mind off the storm. Easier said than done. This afternoon the sky turned black and filled with spectral yellow streaks, and now it feels like our wood-clad cabin will wash away at any minute. This isn't an unreasonable fear, considering it's old wartime housing that we had floated to its present location four years ago on a barge from the naval shipyard down west of Seattle. I've never experienced gales like this before, or maybe I have, but the windstorm of 1934 came at the height of the Depression when I was a weary housewife, feeling a thousand years old rather than the thirty-one I actually was, and my larder was down to a questionable jar of dried beef. A house blown off its foundation seemed like the least of our worries during those bleak times.
I tried reading but can't concentrate on the only unread novel here on our shelves. A Book of the Month selection, Rabbit, Run, by a self-satisfied-looking stuffed shirt named John Updike. It was left behind by my friend Hazel. After tormenting myself with a few morose chapters, I began to suspect Hazel abandoned it on purpose. While the storm could fairly be blamed for my lack of charity, I'm sure I would find this book a toil in clear weather, too. The protagonist gazes at his navel as if he is t...
