Monday, November 10, 2008

Bedside Reading

Recently, Edward Behr's Art of Eating ( the most excellent food quarterly ever - you feel fucking smarter and more virtuous just holding a copy) - listed out his top 7 cook books of all time. Needless to say - I was felt unjustifiably proud that I matched up on two our choices.

Not surprising, many of them were from the 70's, when Mr Behr was coming of age as a food person. More surprisingly, most gave recipes in paragraph form (ie: Elizabeth David's French Provincial Cooking). In a sense they are awful cookbooks - the recipes are brief and light on instruction. But they are heavy on deep food knowledge and inspiration. They assume a high level of experience from the reader - something that I love (it makes me feel like I've passed some sort of insider's test). I realize that my favorite cook books now, are less and less about measures and cooking times, and more about making me want to get in there and make something completely fucking delicious for my friends and family.

My bed side no longer has a side table - instead, a stack of cook books and books on food are piled in stacks that threaten to tumble over. There was a time when there would have been some of the nudge nudge wink wink magazines (with the Internet - is there anyone who actually buys porn?) But, as I've gotten older - I have found just as much pleasure in my stomach and, ultimately, my heart.

So - in no particular order - here are my favorite current cook books - I am going to limit it to 5 (though I reserve the right to change the list at any time - I think I've settled on some keepers). I suspect that French cookbooks will invade my list in the future - it's a style cooking that I have not explored fully.
  • Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking by Marcella Hazan. Worth it for the primer on pasta alone. The recipes are simple and inspire complete confidence.
  • Japanese Cooking, A Simple Art by Shizuo Tsuji. You'll see teriyaki sauce in a whole new light - and even if you don't cook from it - you will order much better at a Japanese restaurant.
  • The Kitchen Diaries by Nigel Slater. Mr. Slater's slavish devotion to stripping pretense out of food is a pretense in of itself. But here it works like genius - a year in the life of his cooking. Makes you want to have people over, grill something, and settle around a large farmhouse table with your friends late into a summer night.
  • Made in Italy by Georgio Locatelli. I have an odd Anglophile-ness, and I have no idea where it comes from (though I mostly blame my friend Sara Gannholm). This is Italian cooking by way of a renowned London Chef. It's as thick as a phone book - but waaay more fun to read. Grounded in simple foods and generous cooking - I stayed up till the early hours of the morning, flipping through it's pages, using it as the basis to organize my truffle dinner.
  • A Plate of Figs by David Tanis. Very recent entry - the recipes are built around menus for 8 to 12 people - simple recipes, easy to tackle, but with delicious results. The duck 'hams' I made for the truffle dinner was a stunner, deeply flavored and delicious - a real hit. It was great seeing the transformative powers of French cooking techniques at work.

1 comment:

Beespeaker said...

I am so happy you've started a blog--I always enjoy your reverence of food matched with your unique and irreverent wit. I have gone off of reading cookbooks lately, but you're re-inspiring me to take them out of the cupboard, do some daydreaming and maybe even some real experimenting. I am still looking for the ultimate South Indian cookbook.