Sarah-Kate Lynch: Blessed Are

By MARGIE THOMSON*

There's nothing actually wrong with a 1kg block of Tasty, but by the time you finish this zesty, charming novel about cheese, romance and the warmth of the human spirit by former NZ Woman's Weekly editor and former Viva columnist Sarah-Kate Lynch, you'll be longing to sample something with a little more personality than that plastic-wrapped brick.

Such is this novel's appeal that not only has Black Swan done a two-book deal with Lynch on the strength of it (and United States publisher Warner Books snapped it up), but British film company Working Title (producer of Bridget Jones's Diary, among others) has optioned the film rights.

It seems that not only has Lynch written a story that publishers and film-makers think will capture the public imagination, but she has lucked in on a cheese renaissance. Apparently, an artisan cheese movement is in full swing.

"I didn't know it was happening, or I would have got on to this a long time ago," Lynch jokes, although she agrees that in fact it seems her timing has been impeccable.

Stopping off in New York recently she was amazed to discover a new restaurant to be the talk of the town: Artisanal - a cheese restaurant - offering 500 types of cheese, a cheese cave, fondue with everything ...

Also, just as fortuitously, she had even included some New York scenes and one key New York character in her novel (although most of the action happens across the sea in Ireland), so, as she says, "everything is falling into place".

Coolarney Blues and Golds, the special cheeses made by Coolarney House, Lynch's fictional cheesemakers, don't actually exist (although, Lynch says, they could: her consultant from local artisan cheesemaker Matatoki has developed the recipes).

But in their absence, and in the absence of the other gamey Irish farmhouse cheeses that appear abundantly in these pages, always with a stinky flourish of aroma, a slice of something like Kikorangi Triple Blue, bought from any supermarket, could help to put you in the picture.

This novel, Lynch's second, reminded me more of Joanne Harris' Chocolat than anything else (and in fact, the two authors share the same publisher): the romantic, almost mythical, approach to a particular food; the story that takes place in a confined setting among quirky, appealing (and occasionally quirky, horrid) characters; the sense of whimsy with just a suggestion of magic; the lashings of human warmth and, in Lynch's case more than Harris', humour.

The story is set largely in West Cork, Ireland (the same setting as Lynch's first novel Finding Tom Connor) in the fictional village of Schillies. Coolarney House, run by two old friends Fee and Corrie, makes the world's tastiest cheese but, canny as these two old men are, it's not your usual commercial-type operation.

The passion these two bring to cheesemaking works a kind of magic all its own, and their cheeses have extraordinary presence and power. The fumes of the incredible Coeur de Coolarney, for instance ("Smells delicious, but tastes like shite," as Corrie says), has the power to draw lovers together despite terrible odds.

Because of their warm-heartedness (and that of their bosomy housekeeper Avis) their farm is a haven for waifs and strays.

Their milkmaids (who handmilk to the strains of The Sound of Music, and who are all vegetarian) are all unmarried but pregnant with nowhere else to go; the pathologically shy cowherd has fled the dreadful bullying of the schoolyard; the two main characters (other than Corrie and Fee) are each on the run from their lives in the outside world.

Abby, Corrie's granddaughter, has been estranged from Coolarney farm since she was taken away by her wicked mother while still a child. Now she is on her way back, bruised badly by life, the victim of a feckless, no- good husband and a mother who never got any better.

Kit is a New York stockbroker down on his luck. His wife has died and he has turned to drink and lost his job.

So it is unhappy fortune that brings these two characters back to Coolarney just as the ageing Corrie and Fee are looking for a new cheesemaker.

Timing is a recurring theme in this book, and a portentous, mystical sense of its importance is often alluded to.

Life, it seems, is not unlike cheese: care is needed and timing is crucial, but so are the basic ingredients, such as the essential nature of the person, despite appearances; or the quality of the grass that feeds the cows that give the milk to make the cheese.

Romance crackles in the air as soon as Abby and Kit encounter each other, although initial indications are not good and, despite Fee's firm belief that the pair are made for each other, their joint efforts with the cheesemaking cannot rescue the curd from exuding a niggling sense of imperfection and failure.

Things are not as simple as they seem, and success - both of cheese and love - is by no means certain.

This isn't a perfect novel. Lynch's superb talent for dialogue and character have got away on her every now and then, and you feel, as the characters mount up in long blarney sessions where the wit is free-ranging over several pages, that just a little restraint could have made a difference.

She's done a mostly terrific job of incorporating large amounts of cheesemaking information (even cheesemaking politics) gracefully into the narrative, and it is only occasionally that she gets a bit carried away again. But these seem mean niggles over what is a truly lovely read - as moreish as a sweet, creamy cheese which tickles you with pepper on its way down.

I like Lynch's attitude, her light touch, her friendly mood. It's hard to know what genre her writing fits into - light literary, quality romance, commercial literature? - nothing quite fits.

Blessed Are is seductive, feelgood but not pulpy. It fills you up, like cheese itself. But it bubbles, too, like champagne. It may not be quite to the taste of the high-brow brigade, but it will be guzzled by a wide audience, which is what Lynch wants: commercial success so that she can live her dream of a novel-writing career. If she carries on like this, I'm sure she'll have one. I'm looking forward to that movie.

Black Swan

$26.95

* Margie Thomson is the Herald books editor.