Munch on a Mystery
By Julie Obermiller

One thing I've learned about writing is that editing is much harder. Phrases flow freely because we love the sound of our own words, spoken or unspoken. Editing usually involves clipping the wings of literary flights of fancy and everyone has a different technique.

In a short guide to editing by Caro Clarke, passed on to me via cyberspace, I found some very constructive tips on effective editing. A decade of experience has allowed Clarke to offer some great editing strategies and I was impressed by this author and web designer from London, England; until I read this shocking paragraph.

"Remove all eating and drinking, or even references to a meal; unless something really important hangs on it, e.g. a boy inadvertently reveals that he is starving by the careful way he searches for crumbs."

Take away all food? Impossible! My own writing is a cupboard overflowing with food references and my fictional character spends many pages in the kitchen, where murders are solved over coffee and clues. Take away all food? Becoming instantly protective of the wonderful menu of culinary mysteries that have appeared in the cozy niche, I red-penned that offensive paragraph!

Diane Mott Davidson, prolific creator of Goldy Bear Schulz of Goldilocks Catering, has served up some of the best in this genre. "Catering to Nobody" in 1990 brought us Goldy and we've shared many calories and clues in her twelve adventures. "Death Dines In" is the latest from Davidson. Caterer Madeline Bean has a different style in "The Flaming Luau of Death" by Jerrilyn Karmer. Madeline has also catered a "Killer Wedding" and an "Immaculate Reception." If you have a hankering for Pennsylvania Dutch cooking, order up one of Tamar Myers' main courses featuring Magdelena Yoder, Mennonite innkeeper. The latest, "Assault and Pepper" finds Magdalena proclaiming "my peppy pastor plotzed in the peppery pot!" Bear in mind that these cozies are savory snacks and not life-sustaining nourishment! Hokey works. Purists and anorexics would be wise to steer clear of this cotton candy fluff, but true aficionados love it!

Lou Jane Temple's "Texas Cornbread Killer" featuring Heaven Lee is guaranteed to get your tummy grumbling. The "Chocolate Puppy Puzzle," by JoAnna Carl, is one of the Chocoholic Mystery series. The adventures of Lee McKinney and her Aunt Nettie, small-town chocolatiers, are not to be read without a side dish of Hershey's. Joanna Fluke fills Hannah Swenson's cookie shop with calorie-laden clues and heavenly recipes; the latest is "The Sugar Cookie Murder."

While most main characters are women chefs, Phyllis Richmond offers Chad Wheatley, food critic and writer, in "Murder on the Gravy Train" and "The Butter Did It." Imagine a chic French restaurant named La Fermette in upstate New York. Enter Charly Poisson, French chef extraordinaire. His fractured English in the mystery "Glutton For Punishment" by Cecile Lamalle, conjured up the voice of cartoon's Pepe Le Pew in my head. Most culinary cozy writers are women. Peter King hasn't added to his series featuring the Gourmet Detective recently, but "Death Al Dente" and the others are fun and full of food trivia.

There is no shortage of food writer/reviewer sleuths. Ellen Hart's restaurant reviewer Sophie Greenway makes her latest appearance in "Death on a Silver Platter."
Food writer Carolyn Blue is the amateur detective in "Truffled Feathers" and others by Nancy Fairbanks.

As a lover of caffeine in all its forms, I was chagrined to find I'd missed Cleo Coyle's Coffeehouse Mysteries, but "On What Grounds" is on its way to my collection. Tea lovers can visit Theodosia Browning at Charleston's Indigo Tea Shop, courtesy of Laura Childs in "Shades of Earl Grey." Short story fans can get a dim sum of sixteen mysteries with recipes in "Death Dines In," compiled by Claudia Bishop and Dean James.

There are some rules. Putting a recipe in a book doesn't make it a real culinary mystery, nor does the absence of a recipe disqualify it. If it involves the enjoyment of food on a grand scale it has the right ingredients for the genre. While we have savored more than a few criminal casseroles and murderous muffins, the food is not always the murder weapon. The foodstuffs are often just the frosting on the mystery cake. Readers have come to expect the menu to be as detailed as the characters and plot, and we dine vicariously at elegant tables or backyard barbecues.

For me, there's not much mystery about why cooking and crime have become so popular. Mystery lovers fall into many categories; some are analytical problem solvers, some like to delve into the darkness of the human psyche and some retreat into the mysteries of Gothic romance. Then, there is the cozy fan.

Of course I speak from my own viewpoint but my cozy loving friends fit the profile as well. We are passionate about people; proverbial Nosy Nellies and Curious Georges who embrace gossip and tidbits and neighborly news. That passion extends to every aspect of life, and we jump in feet first with gusto. How many cozy fans curl up with a new tome without a scintillating coffee, sumptuous chocolate dessert or other delicious delicacy close at hand? We seek comfort in all things; "cozy" says it all. Culinary cozy lovers savor each page of a good book like the tastiest of truffles. Fans embrace familiar characters and settings; the places where we feel welcome and at home. Like soap opera fanatics, we know every detail of our character's life and relationships. Favorite authors leave us hungering for more and the end of a series is enough to send us sobbing over a pint of Ben and Jerry's.

Bring on the cornbread, the chili, the biggest hunk of pie you've got. Feed us frivolous characters with real flaws and welcome us to life's table to share in the feast. Food enhances our celebrations, from birthday cakes to wedding banquets, but it is also a salve for life's hurts and disappointments. Anyone who's ever been in love has succumbed to sweet and gooey things to spackle a broken heart. Is it any wonder that readers can identify with the culinary capers? Like that proverbial bag of chips, "Bet you can't read just one!"