In Pastries, Hermé takes on 50 monuments of the pastry world from ancient to modern times, and reimagines them in unique and inventive ways. At times the metamorphosis can be a head-scratcher, and the book doesn’t include details about the creative process behind the transformation. However, any fan of food history and pastry will appreciate up to 50 new recipes from one of Paris’s finest.
Books in the category: historical cooking
Probably the most impressive British post-war cookery compendium is The Constance Spry Cookery Book, first published in 1956. It was reprinted a number of times, and now the publishers Grub Street have produced a handsome metricated version. Nostalgia is fun, but utility is a worthy cause too – this reviewer found the layout difficult and was disappointed that the editors made no effort to lend context to the book and its recipes for a modern audience.
Jennifer McLagan’s final stage of her trilogy, including the much lauded Bones (2005) and Fat (2007), is a comprehensive exploration of those animal parts that are ignored or tossed in the bin, and the word fascinating would be the ultimate understatement in describing this book. Odd Bits is her final manifesto to the world of daring or squeamish cooks to take a new look at less common parts of the animals, and is one of the best cookbooks of 2011.
This is the second feature article about the Great Food series from Penguin Books. This article reviews books by Claudia Roden, Dr A.W. Chase, Alexis Soyer and Colonel Wyvern. Slim paperbacks with pretty covers, the GREAT FOOD series is a hit with many food lovers. We asked our reviewers to have a look at a number of them and give their thoughts.
Penguin Books has released a set of 20 books of writings by authors who penned their food wisdom anywhere between 400 and 20 years ago. Slim paperbacks with pretty covers, the GREAT FOOD series is a hit with many food lovers. We asked our reviewers to have a look at a number of them and give their thoughts. Part 1 features reviews of books by Alexandre Dumas, Samuel Pepys, Pellegrino Artusi and Alice B. Toklas.
As I’m typing this, a crock of briny cucumbers is sitting in my basement. In a couple of weeks, in theory, the cukes will (in theory) be big, crunchy dill pickles. I’d been meaning to try this for a couple of years. I knew vaguely that it’s not a complicated process, just pickles in salty water, with a splash of vinegar for safety. But The Lost Art of Real Cooking, a book that’s both accessible and bursting with personality, was the book that finally inspired me to stand up and do it. So I give it full credit.
Recently released in paperback version, Foods of the Americas: Native Recipes and Traditions, brings renewed life to this James Beard Foundation book award winner of 2005 (originally published in 2004). Numerous books have been written about native or indigenous cooking in the Americas, but most focus on a small subset of people, and are rarely written by accomplished chefs. Fernando and Marlene Divina, in partnership with the Smithsonian National Museum of the American Indian, have created a book that documents important cultural history, and thankfully convert it into a useful culinary tool.
A buzz of joy courses through some readers when they discover certain books of special note. Sicilian Food by Mary Taylor Simeti had this effect on me. The author’s prose has that rather stiff, knowledgeable and cheekily irreverent prose familiar in parts from writers like Elizabeth David or MFK Fisher. From discussion of the probable diets of different classes of people in classical times to descriptions of contemporary foodsellers to notes about making your own tomato extract, Simeti captures the culinary atmosphere, context, attitudes and flavours of deepest, hottest Sicily.
This comprehensive book of Greek food offers an assortment of delicious dishes, from salads and soups to mezedes (appetizers) for the summer to slow-cooked Greek dishes we grew up with as Greeks. Vefa’s Kitchen also showcases a huge array of regional desserts and pastries, breads and other baked delights. At more than 650 recipes, the scope of this book is nearly unparalleled.
Any comprehensively stocked kitchen will have many scented ingredients in the spice rack, drawer or cupboard, ranging from pungent to aromatic, depending on the types of dishes prepared and enjoyed in each household. This book is not concerned with any of them.
The subject matter of The Scented Kitchen is perfumed flowers from the flower garden, using them in various ways to impart flavour and aroma, and in some instance, colour also.
Had I come across this title on a shelf, I might well have passed it by, thereby missing an interesting read.
Chocolate is a mammoth work from the Chocolate History Group at the University of California, Davis. The culmination of ten years of anthropological and archival research, this is a book for a narrow range of readers with interests in food research, anthropology and history, or for those whose curiosity will be sated by an enormous range of fascinating tidbits about chocolate. As a volume representing the final output from the group, it is a collection of 56 academic essays covering anything from the religious significance of chocolate in pre-Colombian and post-colonisation societies to advertising cards in 19th century Europe and North America. As might be expected, this is no light reading and generalist readers may find it hard going. Despite the title, the remit of the research group was strongly oriented towards the Americas, leaving European chocolate history rather neglected in the final product.
The recipes contained within this unassuming, un-illustrated reissue glow. They openly embrace the full spectrum of ethical eating. The vast majority, in fact, are vegan. None of the ingredients (bitter almonds excepted) are difficult for a home cook to locate but, most importantly, this is a book of delicious, exquisite food; simple to make, exotic enough to tempt jaded palates and written in an elegant, spare style. Instruction is straightforward and, where appropriate, Haroutunian’s introductions, themselves short and sweet, are peppered with wisdom from classic Arabian literature. I only wish the word Vegetarian could be replaced with the word Vegetable in the title. It deserves a wider audience.