How One Special Dinner Went From Meal to Memoir

Leslie Karst—Justice is Served: A Tale of Scallops, the Law, and Cooking for RBG

It may seem odd, but even though I’d been tapped to personally host an intimate dinner party for Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg and her charming and witty tax law professor husband Marty, it never occurred to me at the time that the story would make for a compelling memoir. 

Rather, during the months I was planning and preparing for (not to mention angsting and obsessing over) the upcoming dinner, all I could think about were the details and logistics: What would I cook for such a momentous event? How many courses should I prepare? Should I bone up on recent Supreme Court cases in the event the justice wanted to talk law with me? (The prospect of which instilled abject fear in this small-town lawyer.)

And then once the big night actually arrived, I was focused on being in the moment. The sole thing on my mind was that I’d done it; I’d succeeded in preparing five courses of tasty and artfully-presented food, and was now basking in the glory of sipping wine and engaging in conversation with the celebrated and iconic RBG!

It was only afterwards, on the trip back to Santa Cruz from Los Angeles the following morning, as my then-partner (now wife—thank you Ruth!) Robin and I were reliving all the marvelous, amusing, and occasionally bizarre occurrences leading up to and including the dinner itself, that we both came to the same conclusion: I had to write it all down. Right then, before I forgot the details.

So I grabbed a pen and the sheaf of office paper we kept in our car, and as Robin navigated Highway 5 north through the barren Central Valley, the two of us brainstormed regarding everything we could remember of the previous nine months—including all the dinner conversations from the night before. Scribbling furiously, I took everything down, eventually covering some twenty pages with my notes. 

Once home, I commenced writing the memoir. In retrospect, I realize this was a healthy exercise, racking my brain to remember everything that had happened over the past months and then reliving it all in my head as I typed away on my computer. For had it not been for this task I’d set myself, I’d likely have fallen into a funk—suffering from a profound let-down after so much anticipation and build-up, homing in on one specific, future point in time. 

Which was suddenly over—now a mere memory. But writing it all down turned out to be a good way to regroup and ease myself back into what—prior to focusing all my mental energy on the planning of “The Dinner”—had been my normal life.

The draft was finished within a few months. But then, there it sat for years on my computer while I was sidetracked, first by my work as a research and appellate attorney, then by writing and promoting my culinary mystery series. Finally, after much egging-on by Robin, her mother, and various others who knew of the book’s existence, I decided that they were right. The extraordinary story needed to be out there, for others to read. 

Once I finally opened the file, however, and began to read what I’d written all those years earlier, I saw that I had a problem: the manuscript wasn’t ready for publication. Not by a long shot. For although I’d set down the facts—all that had happened to me along the way to finally sitting down with Ruth, Marty, Robin, and my mom and dad on that memorable evening—I’d neglected to include much anything about how the experience had affected me personally. Because, I now realized on looking back, it had in fact had an enormous impact on my life. 

These are the stories that make for a compelling memoir. Personal stories. Stories of love, loss, and lessons learned. Stories that allow the reader to peek into the one’s soul, to experience the author’s journey towards awakening, or redemption, or simply the discovery that she’s exactly where she wants to be, after all. 

But easier said than done. Because it’s hard to write honestly about oneself. Although my mystery series is written in the first person (and many are convinced that Sally is, in fact, simply my far braver and riskier alter-ego), I’d never before had to delve deep within myself and then share those innermost thoughts on paper—for the world to read. 

The first step was to accept that in order for my memoir to truly resonate with others, I had to be willing to be honest and open about my personal journey and how the experience of cooking for RBG had affected me—as a lawyer, as a romantic partner, as a daughter, and as a person. 

Okay, I agree. My personal journey will henceforth be an open book. 

But how to then translate that journey onto paper? The second step was clearly to seek advice from someone more experienced than I in writing memoirs. So I went all-in and hired a developmental editor. She not only helped me identify ways in which the experience had affected and changed me, but also provided guidance on how to interweave this narrative arc throughout the underlying story of hosting dinner for the Supreme Court justice. 

It may well have been the best money I ever spent. For it was only after this re-write that the book came truly alive, transformed from merely the story of a fancy dinner into one of simultaneously searching for delicious recipes as well as purpose in life—and a reminder that it’s never too late to discover and follow your deepest passion. 

Sometimes we all just need a little nudge and a little help. 

—
The daughter of a law professor and a potter, Leslie Karst waited tables and sang in a new wave rock band before deciding she was ready for “real” job and ending up at Stanford Law School. It was during her career as a research and appellate attorney in Santa Cruz, California, that she rediscovered her youthful passion for food and cooking, at which point she once again returned to school—this time to earn a degree in culinary arts. Now retired from the law, Leslie spends her days penning the Sally Solari culinary mystery series, as well as cooking, gardening, cycling, and singing alto in her local community chorus. She and her wife and their Jack Russell mix split their time between Santa Cruz and Hilo, Hawai’i.

Justice Is Served: A Tale of Scallops, the Law, and Cooking for RBG

Tags: featured, women writers

Category: On Writing