arts&life books as the “Queen of Cooks,” who used food to climb the social ladder and was rumored to have had an affair with Edward VII before he ascend- ed to the throne in the United Kingdom. There’s also Helen Gurley Brown, the longtime Cosmopolitan editor and the author of Sex and the Single Girl. Brown had a complex relationship with food and often turned to dieting, eating celery sticks and sugar-free Jell-O, and proclaiming that “skinny to me is sacred.” The impetus for What She Ate came from a passage Shapiro discovered in a biog- raphy of Dorothy Wordsworth, devoted sister to William Wordsworth, the Romantic poet. She kept house for her brother in the quiet and beautiful Lake District of England. Their idyllic country life changed when William married and Dorothy wound What She Ate Culinary historian Laura Shapiro’s new book offers food for thought on the lives of six notable women. AVISHAY ARTSY JEWISH JOURNAL OF GREATER L.A. 32 August 3 • 2017 I n the closing days of the Third Reich, Eva Braun kept drinking Champagne and eating German apple cake. She was desperate to maintain a semblance of nor- malcy as bombs fell around the Berlin bunker where she and Adolf Hitler hid. When Albert Speer, Hitler’s favor- ite architect, visited them, he recalled Eva offering him Champagne and sweets, and she expressed concern that he hadn’t eaten recently. It may seem glib to discuss the dining habits of Nazi com- manders and their compan- ions while that same regime intentionally starved millions. But food played the role of promise and propaganda dur- ing World War II. “The Führer repeatedly said, and I repeat after him, if anyone has to go hungry, it shall not be the jn Germans but other peoples,” Hermann Göring announced in 1942, and indeed, almost half of what Germany con- sumed during the war came from the countries it occu- pied. In her brand-new book, What She Ate: Six Remarkable Women & the Food That Tells Their Stories (Viking), culinary historian Laura Shapiro — who has written for the New Yorker, Gourmet and Conde Nast Traveler — profiles six women in history and tells their life stories through their relationships with food. Braun is the least empathetic, as she lived “encased in a sphere of make-believe morality” until her death, Shapiro writes. But for Braun, like others, food took on a deeper significance. The subjects include Rosa Lewis, a British chef known up living in a distant village with her nephew. Shapiro was surprised to read that a cook served them a dinner of black pudding, a type of blood sau- sage. “It’s kind of a mess of blood and oatmeal. I mean, it’s a beloved British thing and they still eat it with great pleasure, but it sure didn’t sound like Dorothy Wordsworth to me,” Shapiro said in a phone inter- view. Dorothy’s journals from her time living with William are filled with references to the gooseberry tarts and gin- gerbread she baked, the rum she bottled and the apples she picked from the orchard. She would recall visits from friends, the meals they shared and the poetry that was read. “Cooking, for Dorothy, was inextricable from her life with William: To serve him food was to reinforce all the emotions that bound them,” Shapiro writes. But in her later years, as Dorothy descended into sickness and dementia, the black pudding seemed to symbolize her decline. Shapiro had the idea to look at other women’s lives through the food they prepared and ate. She avoided culinary pro- fessionals, instead choosing women who weren’t necessar- ily known for what they ate. “You don’t have to have writ- ten a cookbook to have a rela- tionship with food,” she said. The novelist Barbara Pym didn’t write cookbooks; she wrote widely praised works of fiction that featured spin- sters, clergy and sessions of afternoon tea. The tea “plays so many symbolic roles that another writer would have had to create a whole slew of walk-on characters to say what Barbara says with a cup,” Shapiro writes. The novels Pym published from the 1950s through the ’70s are full of food, and Shapiro works like a forensic scientist to figure out how “boiled chicken with white sauce” might have been pre- pared. Pym’s characters ate well, despite the low opinion foreigners are thought to have of British cooking, and she enjoyed describing their meals in her novels, even if her pub- lishers and editors didn’t see the need for it. “What is wrong with being obsessed with trivia?” Pym asked in her notebook, and Shapiro could have wondered the same thing. Food was of minimal impor- tance to Eleanor Roosevelt, or at least that’s what everyone around the first lady believed. “By all accounts, the food in the Roosevelt White House was the worst in the history of the presidency,” Shapiro writes, and most people who were invited for a meal there knew to eat beforehand. Shapiro offers several expla- nations for Eleanor’s disdain for homemaking, includ- ing her frustration with her