Other reviewers have done a great job of summarising the plot of this book and (so far three five-star ratings) they seem to have been won over completely. I did like it a lot, but also feel that it falls well short of 5* (or trois-étoiles Michelin).
Morais quite openly declares in his acknowledgements that he'd love to see his tale transformed to the silver screen to honour his departed friend, Ismail Merchant (of
The Merchant Ivory Collection [DVD] [1992] film fame). I'd say there's a good chance it will be... but that's not an unqualified compliment. There's so much familiar about the basic plot elements here; achievement against the odds... cultural stereotypes that turn out to be hiding the character's true colours... an ageing mentor whose protégé reaches heights they never quite managed themselves. These are the building blocks of the Hollywood drama, retold and reconstructed in every conceivable permutation but yet chronically lacking in basic originality. I'm sorry to say that I could almost see the checklist of plot elements that Morais seems to have used to ensure scriptwriter interest.
Just as I can enjoy a Billy Eliot, Bend it Like Beckham and other such films, so I found A Hundred Foot Journey to be a good read and happily munched through its pages of succulent foodie descriptions and anecdotes in the life of an up and coming chef. But in the end I couldn't help feeling unsated. The key to winning Michelin stars, asides from culinary flair, is attention to detail and commitment to quality at every level. It may be that my personal history (which includes some knowledge of Bombay, many years lived in France and some very fine meals along the way) got in the way of the `suspension of disbelief' required to really enjoy an escapist tale. For example, I'm not sure how many Muslim children attended the Jesuit St Xavier's college in Bombay but I can't imagine there were many.
It's a good read which is especially delightful for those who live to eat rather than vice versa. But in the end it just doesn't have the kind of emotional depth that makes a novel truly brilliant.