So interesting!! 26 chapters each of them alphabetically describing a piece of fruit… Who knew? While this ordinarily would not hold my interest, the authors writing was glorious as were the recipes. I took notes! Highly recommend and I am so grateful I received an advanced copy.

‘He was a bold man who first ate an oyster,’ Jonathan Swift is reputed to have said. I would also say the same about fruit. The fresh produce we consume today has been bred for ease of eating and sweetness and has had much of its original spiky sharpness and impenetrability smoothed out in the process. So it is even more impressive that somewhere, someone decided early gooseberries were worth persevering with, worked out that medlars require bletting and damsons need cooking.

In ‘The Book of Difficult Fruit’, Lebo celebrates the essentially untamable aspects of 26 different fruits from aronia to zucchini via sugar cane, medlars and ume plums through a series of essays whose framing goes far beyond the culinary. There’s sex, death, illness, and ‘life’s recognition as itself’, as Lebo writes, quoting M.M Mahood as she asks the question, ‘why bother with inedible fruit?’

‘Huckleberries can’t be farmed,’ Lebo writes. ‘Medlars must rot in order to sweeten. Wheatberry dust is more explosive than gunpowder.’ She melds drama, obscurity, darkness and ‘the limits of her own taste’ into one intoxicating narrative; her words have push and tug. A chapter on the abortifacient effects of juniper berries explores how this use is coded in old horticultural texts and literature, reminds us that abortion has always been a normal and natural part of life and ends with recipes for jelly, and bitters, made from the plant’s berries. We read about the toothlike seeds of the pomegranate, ‘incisor-shaped, fat at one end where a blood blush pools,’ the fruit a jewel box from which life bursts forth, and the inhibiting effects of its estrogenic flesh on the fertility of rats and guinea pigs. These are bewitching stories about human observation and perseverance from a wonderful writer.

Had a lot of trouble getting into it. Interesting concept but maybe needed more editing? I get the vibe on wanting to discuss how food as medicine can be helpful, but one of the biggest challenges I had was that it didn’t read as expert opinion based in robust scientific research—it asks you to trust without providing a reason to. Couldn’t finish it

I requested this book mainly for the recipe aspect. I enjoyed it mainly because of the prose. The recipes in this book definitely lend themselves more as support for the short stories, and less as actual directions to cook from. The book was much more poignant than expected and I connected with the author's thoughts throughout. While sadder in some ways than the fruit anthology I expected, it was much more than that.

--From Aronia to Zucchini, an A to Z exploration of Fruit You Hardly Ever Acknowledge--

I received a review copy from the publisher and here are my thoughts.

In this book you will find twenty-six essays about fruits (and a few you wouldn't think of as fruit) that you probably mostly have ignored or been unaware of most of your life.

Tidily arranged from A to Z, and dandelion (fruit?) is in there, but under another name, FACECLOCK, so that it helps fill out the alphabet. Durian took the D already.

All is forgiven.

Because each essay is a delightful journey into the author's life of fruity memories, with a recipe or two thrown in.

And now I know what to do with all the gooseberry plants in my garden.

Twenty-six chapters each feature one difficult fruit, listed alphabetically across prose that spans memoir and food history, cookbook and agricultural guide. Best enjoyed at a slow pace, not cover-to-cover.

An alphabetical guide to unusual fruits and what to do with them. Includes some more common fruits like blackberries and cherries, as well as durian, juniper berries, quince, and more. Each chapter starts with a brief essay, followed by a few assorted recipes. Not strictly a cookbook or reference book, but an interesting meditation on life and our relationship with food. Plus, the recipes look good. (I'm reviewing an unformatted ARC, so I can't speak to the final layout of the book. There are painted illustrations of each fruit, but I'm hoping for some photographs of the recipes, too.)

Kate Leto has written a wonderful book. a book full of unique recipes unusual ingredients and combinations.There are essays about her depression her personal life her family and friends.Charming engaging unique with a fabulous title will be recommending.#netgalley#fsg

This alphabetical compendium investigates one fruit per chapter (26 total), defining and chronicling that fruit’s cultural legacy or personal connection. Intertwining histories—that of the fruit, and that of the author—make this book particularly special. While some chapters deal with fruits that have too much peel or pith, others grapple with the complicated histories of Lebo’s curated fruits. While discussing juniper berries, Lebo traces their medicinal use as an aid for “menses” and as an abortifacient that ultimately gave gin its nickname as “mother’s ruin.” She compares how literature on juniper as a “culinary spice” is easy to find, but herbals and guides for using juniper berries as an abortifacient are hidden by coded language even in the contemporary zines that were used as guides for herbal abortions. All of this is chronicled alongside Lebo’s own relevant recollections, and the chapter stands out as one of the most poignant and educational.

Some chapters are more personal than others, of course. The opening chapter, ostensibly about aronia berries, stood out to me instead as a recollection of Lebo’s mother’s experience with chronic pain. The chapter constructed a specific view of the way that some people view “difficult” fruits: they are vegetal or hard to swallow, but are worth eating if it means a chance at providing a cure of some kind. In a later chapter about vanilla, Lebo explains the delicate processes involved with breeding vanilla plants—a task that is extremely difficult even in the best of climates and circumstances—but packs the strongest punch while waxing poetic about her nostalgia for the synthetic scent of vanilla. “Vanilla girls,” as Lebo calls them, used to slather on vanilla-scented lotions that became a marker of a specific kind of femininity. For Lebo, those memories are just as important to vanilla’s relative “difficulty” as is its status as a rare commodity in a globalized world.

After reading the details of each fruit’s anatomy, I relished reading about the fruit’s place in folklore or its role in herbal medicines of the past. Some chapters felt more complete than others, but the book overall was a really fascinating companion for perspectives on how flavors and stories commingle to build long-lasting legacies.

The Book of Difficult Fruit is a foodie's dream, full of essays about rare/exotic/difficult fruits written and presented by Kate Lebo. Due out 6th April 2021 from Macmillan on their Farrar Straus & Giroux imprint, it's 416 pages and will be available in hardcover and ebook formats.

There are 26 entries included in this collection arranged alphabetically - something of a rogues' gallery of the fruit world. They range in inclusion from aronia to zucchini and have been included according to a broad range of criteria from difficult taste to thorny unpleasant or difficulty in preparation and use. Each of them includes a charming essay along with a couple recipes from the author's collection.

I really enjoyed reading the essays. The recipes have limited use for me personally, and I haven't tried any of them (yet). A fair few look intriguing: hiker's toilet paper, thimbleberry kvass, spider balls (it's not what you're thinking, I promise), and durian lip balm (!!!) to name a few.

My only quibble (and it's a very small one) is the author's use of Xylitol for the X chapter. Then again, what else would have fit there (xylophones aren't fruit)? Some of the entries do have an ever so slightly pseudo-scientific new-agey feel. It's not too much, but it is there. I found it mostly charming.

Four stars. I would recommend it to foodies who enjoy reading food related books.

Disclosure: I received an ARC at no cost from the author/publisher for review purposes.

I love good food meditation essays, and this author does not disappoint. Her walk through the rare and unique alphabetized list of fruit is probably too specifically weird for some readers, but I loved her writing that is smattered with intimate gleanings of her personal life so much that I really flew through it. I do wish she had written an afterword to sum up so much depth of knowledge on her long journey discovering all these difficult fruits, but otherwise, I would happily recommend it to foodies and lovers of good writing everywhere.

A delightful book filled with recipes, essays, and stories from Kate Lebo. This was such an interesting read and I definitely enjoyed reading it. It had nice recipes and drawings, while also being a collection of essays from her. In her essays she discusses her family, her own disability, and her depression. She also explores so much more, seriously this was a great read and I definitely would recommend it!

*Thanks Netgalley and Farrar, Straus and Giroux for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

I've liked Kate Lebo's work since I first read her cookbook (Pie School) and her illustrated zine (Commonplace Book of Pie), the latter of which seems like the origin story for her alphabetical approach to this collection. Framed by difficult or unusual fruits, Lebo's essays discuss her family's secrets; her own disability (Lebo is hard or hearing and has an autoimmune disorder), and her depression. She also explores the impact of white colonialists on indigenous communities, as well as how myth and folklore shape our understanding of the natural world.

Lebo's writing is a little mystical, intimate, and it's also practical. Her recipes are written in a slightly lyrical style. This book will likely appeal to fans of Amy Krouse Rosenthal's memoirs (though Lebo has more bite and drama to her writing), or to those who enjoy poetic language but aren't quite sure if they like poetry. It may also appeal to experimental home cooks and foragers.

I knew nothing about Kate Lebo before starting this book, and was expecting a fairly standard cookbook with short introductions to the fruit item before each recipe. Instead what I got was a alphabetic compendium of essays about (mostly) fruit that included a beautifully written essay about the particular fruit of interest, followed by a recipe or two featuring that fruit.

After finishing, I read that Lebo has also published a book of poetry, and was not at all surprised. All in all, this was an unexpectedly beautiful read, and highly recommended.

Thanks to Farrar, Straus and Giroux for providing me with an advanced reading copy via NetGalley.

*This book was received as an Advanced Reviewer's Copy from NetGalley.

So this book took some time to grow on me, but once it did, I really started enjoying it. It's partially my fault, for reading more into the title and not enough into the actual book description. I thought it was going to be a reference book on weird fruit. And in a way it was, but it was also a memoir and sociological commentary.

Lebo runs the gamut through interesting fruit, from A-Z. Well, sorta. Not all is fruit (lumps, etc.), and some relate more to her experiences than any kind of food product you would find on shelves. She does include recipes for most (of the ones that are of an edible nature) and while I can't say I'd be trying all of them due to complicated steps and time and sourcing of materials, there are a few in here I think I'd return to.

I think if I were to truly classify this book it would be as a memoir. Most of the contents involve the stories and experiences of Lebo, moreso than the information on the fruit itself. Don't get me wrong, it's there (and I have a good many of them growing in my yard). But really, the focus of this book is on the storytelling. And while I was a bit irritated as I said at first (why the mystery with the aunts) as I continued reading through I began to appreciate how the weaving of these events with the different fruits came together. Lebo manages to write it in a very relatable way, even if you haven't had those particular life experiences yourself. I will say though, in terms of recipes, there's some, uh, interesting stuff in here that I think she is far braver than me (I will not be messing with any kind of pits that contain cyanide if I can help it), so if you're looking for something adventurous, this may be it, but please proceed with sooooo much caution.

An interesting book, that while not what I expected, still ended up being thoroughly enjoyable.

Review by M. Reynard 2020

How can you not love a book with a title like this? Lebo takes and up close and personal look at the fruit often considered the favorite choice of birds, the fruit so smelly it isn’t allowed on public transportation, the fruits considered scandalous because of their shape. Providing historical references, myths, folklore and recipes for these often unloved undervalued fruits, Lebo delivers a book that will delight cooks and nature lovers alike