Yasaman Does Indeed Learn How to Cook

 

Author: Sara Farizan

Prompt 1 (pose my own question): Is “Why I Learned to Cook” meaningful despite its happy ending and lack of scandalous revelations, the ending-of-the-world, and other dramatic climaxes?

Sara Farizan’s short story “Why I Learned to Cook” is quite mellow in comparison to the other short stories we have read. Although the narrator, Yasaman, worries about introducing her girlfriend (and thus revealing her sexuality) to her grandmother, the conflicts in the narrative are not as dramatic as the apocalyptic “The Machine Stops” or the soap-opera tale of “Roman Fever.” Even the title of the short story, “Why I Learned to Cook,” is no plot twist as Yasaman does indeed tell us why she learns to cook; there is no surprise cliffhanger where the story suddenly ends with a drop of cooking oil sizzling in a pan, and the readers are left wondering what Yasaman does next--does she learn how to cook? 

I was not a huge fan of this short story. I personally enjoy the drama of the tainted happiness in “Bliss” or the troubled ending of “Recitatif,” so without the wildly climactic scenes and overall happy ending, can Farizan’s story still be interesting and meaningful (in a serious manner and not just from an idealistic perspective)? I think so. 

In class, we briefly discussed how there were certain moments in the story that felt like they could have been developed into conflicts, giving the story more…”zest.” Yasaman mentions that her family, including her aunts and uncles, no longer gather at her grandmother’s house for family dinners as they used to. Everyone’s lives have grown too busy, or they are too tired. When I initially read the story, I expected this detail to be a tension throughout Yasaman’s journey of learning to cook the food of her heritage, but it was never really mentioned again. The grandmother’s cultural background as an immigrant was also not elaborated on in the story, even though it seems like an important aspect to why Yasaman should learn how to cook, but the focus was mainly on her personal narrative.

However, maybe there is no need to have this extra tension in the story, allowing Yasaman’s inner struggle to be solely highlighted. I read several articles discussing Farizan’s work, and they explain how she writes stories and novels related to her personal life. Farizan herself struggled with her sexuality given her cultural background (she is Iranian American), and so she understands the difficulty of coming out. With this idea in mind, her stories seem both healing for herself as well as hopeful for other readers. In an interview, she says that she is “writing for my inner kid, but I’m also writing for current kids. I think kids are more inclined to ask questions than adults are, and they’re more inclined to wonder about things.” 

Rereading “Why I Learned to Cook” after reading Farizan’s message, the moments that had initially seemed more saccharine (i.e. when the grandmother had told Yasaman to never apologize for taking up space after the grocery store incident), now seem more touching. It is special that this advice of “being yourself” comes from the grandmother, the more traditional figure. I know in class we discussed how this story doesn’t seem like a realistic coming-out story, but this connection to the author’s personal experience makes the story more meaningful. Farizan had also struggled with her sexual identity, but she still made the choice to write a story that expresses a more hopeful scenario. Perhaps this can bring comfort and support to readers in a similar situation to Farizan’s. 

Although “Why I Learned to Cook” was not my favorite short story, I better understand the author’s intention behind writing such a hopeful story, and I think that is what makes it more meaningful than I had first realized it to be.