Genre Fiction
![Jennifer Ryan - [object Object] author](https://res.cloudinary.com/readsomnia/image/upload/authors/a_B01LYBL9U9.jpg)
The Kitchen Front: A Novel
From the bestselling author of The Chilbury Ladies' Choir comes an unforgettable novel of a BBC-sponsored wartime cooking competition and the four women who enter for a chance to better their lives.
NAMED ONE OF THE BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR BY GOOD HOUSEKEEPING • "This story had me so hooked, I literally couldn't put it down."-NPR
Two years into World War II, Britain is feeling her losses: The Nazis have won battles, the Blitz has destroyed cities, and U-boats have cut off the supply of food. In an effort to help housewives with food rationing, a BBC radio program called The Kitchen Front is holding a cooking contest-and the grand prize is a job as the program's first-ever female co-host. For four very different women, winning the competition would present a crucial chance to change their lives.
For a young widow, it's a chance to pay off her husband's debts and keep a roof over her children's heads. For a kitchen maid, it's a chance to leave servitude and find freedom. For a lady of the manor, it's a chance to escape her wealthy husband's increasingly hostile behavior. And for a trained chef, it's a chance to challenge the men at the top of her profession.
These four women are giving the competition their all-even if that sometimes means bending the rules. But with so much at stake, will the contest that aims to bring the community together only serve to break it apart?
NAMED ONE OF THE BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR BY GOOD HOUSEKEEPING • "This story had me so hooked, I literally couldn't put it down."-NPR
Two years into World War II, Britain is feeling her losses: The Nazis have won battles, the Blitz has destroyed cities, and U-boats have cut off the supply of food. In an effort to help housewives with food rationing, a BBC radio program called The Kitchen Front is holding a cooking contest-and the grand prize is a job as the program's first-ever female co-host. For four very different women, winning the competition would present a crucial chance to change their lives.
For a young widow, it's a chance to pay off her husband's debts and keep a roof over her children's heads. For a kitchen maid, it's a chance to leave servitude and find freedom. For a lady of the manor, it's a chance to escape her wealthy husband's increasingly hostile behavior. And for a trained chef, it's a chance to challenge the men at the top of her profession.
These four women are giving the competition their all-even if that sometimes means bending the rules. But with so much at stake, will the contest that aims to bring the community together only serve to break it apart?
Editorial Reviews
"A charming tale that will satiate a lot of different tastes: historical fiction lovers, cooking competition fans, anyone who revels in girl-power lit. . . . . This story had me so hooked, I literally couldn't put it down to cook."-NPR
"Positively delicious . . . Ryan excel[s] at creating warmhearted, intriguing homefront drama."-BookPage
"A delightful read."-AARP
"A positively uplifting read that is as soothing as a warm cup of Earl Grey on a gloomy morning."-Booklist
"[Ryan is] a master of plotting and working in different registers . . . Readers with an appetite for homefront WWII novels will find this deeply satisfying."-Publishers Weekly
"A creative and satiating novel. Certain to delight lovers of historical fiction and TV cooking competitions."-Kirkus
"Positively delicious . . . Ryan excel[s] at creating warmhearted, intriguing homefront drama."-BookPage
"A delightful read."-AARP
"A positively uplifting read that is as soothing as a warm cup of Earl Grey on a gloomy morning."-Booklist
"[Ryan is] a master of plotting and working in different registers . . . Readers with an appetite for homefront WWII novels will find this deeply satisfying."-Publishers Weekly
"A creative and satiating novel. Certain to delight lovers of historical fiction and TV cooking competitions."-Kirkus
Readers Top Reviews
Narelle Meyerpoly
I really enjoyed this book. I loved the friendships formed through the competition. I felt for Nell and Zelda in different ways for their situations. I loved Audrey's relationship with her sons, and memories of her husband. Overall a pleasant wartime read, with lots of recipes following the rations of the time.
A most enjoyable read, an insight in everyday lives during WW2.
TCH 51 Narelle
I didn’t know what to expect after reading her first two books set during WWII, however, this one is another winner! I can’t imagine how people survived on the spare rations they were allowed. Ms Ryan does careful research on those difficult times as well. My book club has been meeting for 25 years, we agreed that these books are among our favorites!
Jill ETaryn Corne
WWII was extremely difficult as we all know and Ms Ryan takes the trials of four women and weaves them into a story of hardship, toil and eventually the bonding of four strong women. It was a pleasant story, well written but I had difficulty at first getting into the story, ergo the three instead of four stars. That said, once I got deep into the story it was intriguing and the ending was just as it should have been.
BethSweetLynn Wal
Could only read a few pages before putting it down. Too bad because the subject matter sounded interesting. But I just cannot spend my time with poorly written material; it's simply not enjoyable.
Short Excerpt Teaser
Round One
STARTER
Wartime food rations for one adult for one week
4 ounces bacon or ham (around 4 rashers of bacon)
Meat to the value of 1 shilling and tuppence (2 pounds mincemeat or 1 pound steaks or joint)
2 ounces cheese (a 2-inch cube)
4 ounces margarine (8 tablespoons)
2 ounces butter (4 tablespoons)
3 pints of milk
8 ounces sugar (1 cup)
2 ounces jam (4 tablespoons)
2 ounces loose leaf tea (makes around 15 to 20 cups)
1 fresh egg (plus 1 packet dried egg powder, making 12 eggs, every month)
3 ounces sweets or candy
Sausages, fish, vegetables, flour, and bread are not rationed but often hard to get. Canned food, like sardines, treacle, and Spam, are on the new Points Plan, and can only be bought using your extra monthly 24 points.
Source: A compilation of Ministry of Food printed materials
Mrs. Audrey Landon
Willow Lodge, Fenley Village, England
June 1942
A glorious spring morning poured its golden splendor through the tall kitchen window as a whirlwind of boys raced in, shooting at each other in a ramshackle reconstruction of Dunkirk.
"Get out of here!" Audrey whooshed them out with a dishcloth.
The aroma of bubbling berries-raspberries, strawberries, red currants-filled the big old kitchen as a slim woman of forty added a touch of cinnamon, a touch of nutmeg. With a man's sweater tucked into a man's trousers, she looked hassled and unkempt, her old boots muddy from the vegetable garden.
The wooden clock on the wall chimed the half hour, and she wiped the back of her hand on her forehead. "Oh nonsense! Is it half past eight already?"
She strode to the kitchen dresser to turn up the crackling wireless radio, which sat among a jumble of pots and a pile of freshly pulled carrots. While most people kept their radio sets in the living room, Audrey had hauled hers into the kitchen when she began furiously baking to make a few extra shillings-that had been just after the war began two years ago, when her husband Matthew's plane was shot down over Düsseldorf.
No trace of him was ever found. In various moments, she tried to stop herself picturing his body-so intimate and dear to her-broken on treetops or burned by an engine fire, his lifeblood spilled over the enemy's seventh-largest city.
Ever since his death, she had been run off her feet.
Audrey had long given up trying to be like a normal person. Every spare moment was given over to baking, anything to make extra pennies, and she often worked long into the night. With three needy boys, debt demands coming weekly, and an old mansion house falling apart around her, normality had flown out the dusty windows years ago. And that didn't even take into consideration the pig and the hens, her sizable garden now given over to fruits and vegetables, the precious extra ingredients that made her pies and cakes.
Exhaustion, disillusionment, and that panicky feeling that everything was running out of control had set up home in her heart.
For the sake of the children, she worked hard to keep her anguish at bay, hugging them through their grief while thrusting her own down into her belly until the middle of the night. It was deemed bad spirit to show tears-Mr. Churchill had drummed that into them: Collective despair could bring the nation to its knees.
Things weren't going well for Britain. Even with the propaganda, the BBC radio news couldn't hide the desperation. The British hadn't been prepared for war. Her cities had been pounded by the Luftwaffe, her troops were fighting hard in North Africa, and Nazi U-boats were blocking imports of arms, metals, and-most crucial-food.
The upper-class voice of the presenter, Mr. Ambrose Hart, drawled through the high-ceilinged old room. "Presenting The Kitchen Front, the cookery program helping Britain's housewives make the most of wartime food rations."
"Let's hear what nonsense Ambrose Hart has to say today," Audrey said to herself, tasting a drop of her bubbling berries. They oozed with ripeness. The tang from the red currants pulled the sweetness back, and she had added a teaspoon of sugar to help it along. The government let you have extra sugar for "jam making" if you chose to forego your jam ration. Most of this went into the pies Audrey made to sell, much to the boys' dismay. Often they had to go without sugar and jam for weeks at a time.
But she needed the money.
A few months ago, the bank had called in the loans, threatening to repossess the house. It was a sum far beyond her means, even with her widow's pension. She couldn't sell the house, it was her home, and Matthew's. And besides, it was in far too ...
STARTER
Wartime food rations for one adult for one week
4 ounces bacon or ham (around 4 rashers of bacon)
Meat to the value of 1 shilling and tuppence (2 pounds mincemeat or 1 pound steaks or joint)
2 ounces cheese (a 2-inch cube)
4 ounces margarine (8 tablespoons)
2 ounces butter (4 tablespoons)
3 pints of milk
8 ounces sugar (1 cup)
2 ounces jam (4 tablespoons)
2 ounces loose leaf tea (makes around 15 to 20 cups)
1 fresh egg (plus 1 packet dried egg powder, making 12 eggs, every month)
3 ounces sweets or candy
Sausages, fish, vegetables, flour, and bread are not rationed but often hard to get. Canned food, like sardines, treacle, and Spam, are on the new Points Plan, and can only be bought using your extra monthly 24 points.
Source: A compilation of Ministry of Food printed materials
Mrs. Audrey Landon
Willow Lodge, Fenley Village, England
June 1942
A glorious spring morning poured its golden splendor through the tall kitchen window as a whirlwind of boys raced in, shooting at each other in a ramshackle reconstruction of Dunkirk.
"Get out of here!" Audrey whooshed them out with a dishcloth.
The aroma of bubbling berries-raspberries, strawberries, red currants-filled the big old kitchen as a slim woman of forty added a touch of cinnamon, a touch of nutmeg. With a man's sweater tucked into a man's trousers, she looked hassled and unkempt, her old boots muddy from the vegetable garden.
The wooden clock on the wall chimed the half hour, and she wiped the back of her hand on her forehead. "Oh nonsense! Is it half past eight already?"
She strode to the kitchen dresser to turn up the crackling wireless radio, which sat among a jumble of pots and a pile of freshly pulled carrots. While most people kept their radio sets in the living room, Audrey had hauled hers into the kitchen when she began furiously baking to make a few extra shillings-that had been just after the war began two years ago, when her husband Matthew's plane was shot down over Düsseldorf.
No trace of him was ever found. In various moments, she tried to stop herself picturing his body-so intimate and dear to her-broken on treetops or burned by an engine fire, his lifeblood spilled over the enemy's seventh-largest city.
Ever since his death, she had been run off her feet.
Audrey had long given up trying to be like a normal person. Every spare moment was given over to baking, anything to make extra pennies, and she often worked long into the night. With three needy boys, debt demands coming weekly, and an old mansion house falling apart around her, normality had flown out the dusty windows years ago. And that didn't even take into consideration the pig and the hens, her sizable garden now given over to fruits and vegetables, the precious extra ingredients that made her pies and cakes.
Exhaustion, disillusionment, and that panicky feeling that everything was running out of control had set up home in her heart.
For the sake of the children, she worked hard to keep her anguish at bay, hugging them through their grief while thrusting her own down into her belly until the middle of the night. It was deemed bad spirit to show tears-Mr. Churchill had drummed that into them: Collective despair could bring the nation to its knees.
Things weren't going well for Britain. Even with the propaganda, the BBC radio news couldn't hide the desperation. The British hadn't been prepared for war. Her cities had been pounded by the Luftwaffe, her troops were fighting hard in North Africa, and Nazi U-boats were blocking imports of arms, metals, and-most crucial-food.
The upper-class voice of the presenter, Mr. Ambrose Hart, drawled through the high-ceilinged old room. "Presenting The Kitchen Front, the cookery program helping Britain's housewives make the most of wartime food rations."
"Let's hear what nonsense Ambrose Hart has to say today," Audrey said to herself, tasting a drop of her bubbling berries. They oozed with ripeness. The tang from the red currants pulled the sweetness back, and she had added a teaspoon of sugar to help it along. The government let you have extra sugar for "jam making" if you chose to forego your jam ration. Most of this went into the pies Audrey made to sell, much to the boys' dismay. Often they had to go without sugar and jam for weeks at a time.
But she needed the money.
A few months ago, the bank had called in the loans, threatening to repossess the house. It was a sum far beyond her means, even with her widow's pension. She couldn't sell the house, it was her home, and Matthew's. And besides, it was in far too ...
