The Cookbook Addict

Supernatural Me

 

Apologies for my prolonged silence -- I tried (and won! yay) my very first jury trial these past few weeks.  So, I have been spending my free time practicing my closing statement to a jury of my office desk accessories and the endlessly patient Mr. Addict.  In need of superpowers, I decided to review Super Natural Cooking by the super-awesome food blogger Heidi Swanson.  Heidi's blog is rightly notorious for her charming recipes and gorgeous photography, so I knew that I would be in good hands.

One of the really great things about Super Natural Cooking is that there's something unique or some interesting twist to most of the recipes.  For example, the Black Tea Spring Rolls with Mango Chutney are made by rolling mushrooms and a little black tea into 6-inch wonton skins, brushing them with melted butter and baking them.  Veggie burgers are chickpea patties that are split in half and stuffed in lieu of buns, so that they are not too "bready."  (Mine did end up a little too eggy though).  I definitely felt like I learned a few new tricks to add to my arsenal.

Besides being healthy and full of all types of superstar ingredients, the recipes have luscious, multi-dimensional textures and are full of charm.  The Greens Packed Stir Fry - asparagus and spinach satueed with tofu and cashews in sesame oil, chili peppers, hoisin and lime - exploded with crunch and flavor, and the hoisin sauce gave the tofu a meaty and rich flavor that I do not normally get from a tofu stir-fry.  This is a dish I plan to make again, often.

The recipes that were more typical healthy/vegetarian cookbook fare - like the sushi rice bowl, the soba noodle otsu and the chickpea burgers - were the most bland to me and needed a little doctoring.  These recipes were way too far over on the "crunchy" food spectrum to please Mr. Addict, but made for nice quick lunches for me.  The Curry Noodle Bowl - whole wheat udon noodles in red curry paste, coconut milk and vegetable stock - was lovely in the way that anything with coconut milk and curry is.  Mr. Addict ate only half his bowl, noting that the soupy concoction did manage to almost mask the whole wheat noodles.

The desserts and drinks were also lovely.  The Peach Nectar Iced Tea was, literally, my favorite summery drink ever.  I felt like I could drink the mint-flecked, Darjeeling and Peach Nectar concoction, scooping out and devouring the tea-soaked peach slices with my fingers, and never need anything else to eat or drink again.  The Espresso Banana Muffins were sweet, hearty and crunchy; I normally despise muffins but I liked these heartier, whole wheat incarnations quite a bit.

Although I did not emerge from this week's cooking any more enchanted with tofu than I was before (and may ever be), Heidi's book definitely hit the spot at a time when I needed the full arsenal of whole food superpowers at my disposal.  Given how awesome her blog is, it's not surprising to me that the book was gorgeous, and taught me a thing or two.  If you are in need of superpowers, I highly recommend it (and Heidi's blog!).

 

The Food That Makes Me Nervous: The Food You Crave by Ellie Krieger

There's something disconcerting about Ellie Krieger's affect.  I get distracted by the pinched, nervous look in her pale face, her cracking voice, and her obviously feigned enthusiasm.  To be honest, to me, she looks kind of hungry.  I imagine her to be a hair's breath away from freaking out and eating everything in sight, as soon as the Food Network TV cameras turn off.  I don't know, maybe I'm just projecting.  Or maybe I'm just jealous that she's beautiful, has an advanced degree from Columbia University, and hosts her own show on the Food Network.

Anyways, after the yeasted pastry and stuffed pasta extravaganzas of the last few weeks, and what with the warmer months approaching, I felt like I need to, ahem, tighten my belt a little and try out some cookbooks that do not have the capacity to single-handedly affect my clothing size.  So I decided to put my snobbiness aside and try Ellie's newly released light cookbook.

Every time I try a light cookbook, I am disappointed, and this one was no exception.  Like most light cookbooks, most of the food in Ellie's book will only taste delicious to you if you are on a diet.  If you are not, most of the recipes will be basically fine, sometimes even good, but uniformly a little watery, starchy, overly acidic, or all of the above.  Basically, this is what happens to most recipes if you take out too much of the fat and try to replace it with starches, dairy or acid.

The Peanut Satay was basically yummy but the accompanying peanut sauce tasted a little mealy from being diluted with chicken stock (which, in my experience, never really works well for sauces that are not served warm).  The soba noodle salad was too acidic, because the rice vinegar in the dressing was not balanced by enough oil.  It would have been better more lightly dressed with a fattier vinaigrette.  The roasted cauliflower with nutmeg was perfectly good, but not any different from roasted cauliflower recipes in non-light cookbooks (1 head cauliflower, 2 Tb oil, hot oven = yum).  The whole wheat fettucine with roasted red pepper and feta sauce was ok, but once again a little mealy tasting.  I will say, I normally despise whole wheat pasta but the pureed roasted pepper and feta in the sauce resulted in an aggressive sauce that made the whole wheat characteristics a lot less noticeable.

The portabella mushroom panini - portabellas stuffed with blue cheese and sun dried tomatoes, lightly brushed with oil, and cooked on a grill pan - were better than expected, but still a little watery.  With just a little more oil, they might have been pretty good. 

I was frightened about how the desserts would turn out, but actually they were our favorite dishes from the book.  The mocha cake with cream cheese frosting incorporates an alarming cup and a half of nonfat yogurt into the batter, but after I doctored the frosting with a little extra sugar and some amaretto, the finished product was actually pretty moist and yummy (proving that Scharfenberger cocoa, Callebaut chocolate and espresso are an unstoppable combination capable of making anything taste delicious).  The ricotta cheesecake, which I topped with strawberries and a strawberry champagne jam, was a little watery and starchy but fun to eat.  Mr. Addict, who is my litmus test for the credibility of light recipes, snacked on both of these of his own volition.

At the end of the day, I did not learn anything new, try anything that was challenging, or taste anything remarkably delicious this week.  But, these recipes were quick and painless and decent to eat.  I had healthy leftovers to take with me to work every day without any effort.  Also, I should mention that I lost a few pounds this week.  If you are on a diet, maybe this cookbook would be helpful for you.  Certaintly, it's far from the worst diet cookbook out there and the culinary techniques and flavor profiles are basically solid.  However, I don't think it really succeeds as a cookbook.  The only light cookbooks that I can think of that do are those by Sally Schneider, Patricia Wells, Alice Medrich and Nick Malgieri.  If you are a food snob who wants to try out a light cookbook, I would definitely turn to those first. 

There are, however, several beloved cookbooks in my collection that are not overtly "light" cookbooks but nevertheless largely contain recipes that are relatively low in fat and calories - Mangoes and Curry Leaves and the books by Jack Bishop are two examples.  Instead of wasting more money on light cookboks, I think I will try to focus more on cooking from those types of cookbooks and on selecting the healthiest recipes in otherwise non-light cookbooks.  If any of you have a favorite cookbook with healthy or light recipes, please post it in the comments!

Spirited from the Bread Box: A Baking Odyssey by Greg Patent

My bubby never let anyone in the kitchen while she was cooking. If you asked her about how she made her kreplach, strudel or breakfast cake, she would inevitably respond with some variation on “a little of this, a little of that, until it is right.” You were lucky if this explanation was even provided in English. When she was eventually prevailed upon to allow my mother and her sister to take down her recipes, they could only provide measurements in yarzheit glasses. Even so, these are treasured recipes.

A Baking Odyssey, by Greg Patent, is essentially a compilation of treasured baking recipes translated from the homes of Americans of various ethnicities and nationalities, including Indian, Russian, Swedish, Polish, Turkish, Chinese and many others. Every recipe includes an introduction that attempts to capture some of the story and personalities behind a particular recipe. Although there are a number of trickier recipes, like strudel, the recipes are described with careful detail and a DVD demonstrating some of the methods is included.  (Although I appreciated the effort put into creating the DVD, which was somewhat helpful, I didn't understand going to this effort but not providing alternative measurements for recipes by weight.)

The sweet recipes that I tried were, hands down, some of the most astonishingly delicious and soul-cheering sweets that I have ever made. The Swedish Cardamom Coffee Rolls, yeasted rolls flecked with freshly ground cardamom and sprinkled with a toasty topping of sugar, chopped almonds and cardamom, were the most sparkly little rolls when eaten piping hot from the oven. The next day, they were slightly less charismatic but still delicious and a little magical. Potica, a Polish coffee cake that involved a traumatizing session rolling out the dough paper thin on my kitchen table, was even more exceptional. Potica is a tall ring of thin layers of yeasted dough that have been brushed with an egg wash, spread with a meringue of nuts and honey, and coiled to form many, many delightful little layers of dough and nuts. It is the type of cake that still feels unbelievably special days later, when the last crumbs are retrieved from the bread box for a midnight snack.   A labor of love, we greedily ate it, with the knowledge that I may not be able to bring myself to make it again.

The savory baked goods that I tried were nice but certainly less impressive. The Turkish Feta Turnovers were a bit doughy and dry. The Kachauri, a puri-type Indian bread stuffed with a puree of barely-cooked split peas and spices, was the tiniest bit bitter and off-tasting. Still, both were unusual, homey and satisfying. Also, his savory doughs seemed to be easier to make and roll out than many others I have tried.

This is hardly a comprehensive book of American ethnic baking, baking techniques, or the baking recipes of any particular nationality. It is not that useful, therefore, as a reference or a tool for acquiring baking skills. Also, although Patent has adapted the recipes slightly with his professional touch, they are not pastry chef’s recipes. But, these are special recipes. Baking from them, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty, like maybe I was circumventing the jealous and idiosyncratic methods through which these types of recipes are typically transmitted. My bubby, after all, would probably never have let a cookbook author into her kitchen, nor been able to explain to him how to make her recipes, even if she wanted to. But, these recipes did remind me of the type of treasured family recipes that a few aunts and close friends have shared with me over the years.

In that spirit, I thought I might post one or two of my family’s homey and beloved baking recipes. I am still trying to procure my bubby’s coffee cake recipe, and hope to post it eventually. In the meantime, here is our family recipe for a very sweet, yeasty and doughy challah, the type never sold in stores or bakeries but eaten in thousands of households every Friday night. I hope you enjoy it (but I also secretly hope that you will not pass it on).

Aunt Dvo's Challah

Note: This recipe makes a massive amount of challah.

2 cakes compressed yeast
12 cups bread flour
1 cup sugar
1 1/2 tablespoons salt
1 1/4 cups vegetable oil

Mix the yeast with 1 cup of warm water in a large bowl.  Let this mixture sit at room temperature for five minutes.  Mix in the remaining ingredients and 2 cups of room temperature water.  Knead the resulting dough until smooth and elastic.  Spray a clean bowl with cooking spray, put the dough in and then turn it over to slightly coat the other side of the dough with the cooking spray.  Cover the bowl with a slightly damp kitchen towel.  Let the dough rise in a warm place for 1 hour.  Punch it down and let it rest for 10 minutes.  Shape the dough into challahs.  Let the challahs rise again for 1 hour.  Preheat oven to 350.  Brush the challahs with egg wash and place in greased baking trays.  Bake for 35 minutes, or until browned.  I recommend making one or two very large and impressive-looking challahs, and a few smaller little knots or rolls to eat for breakfast or midnight snack.

Good Things Come to Those Who Wait, Sometimes: Braise by Daniel Boulud

If you have read my review of Paula Wolfert’s Mediterranean slow cooking book, you know that I am not the world’s most patient cook. Slow recipes make me suspicious. They are also wholly incompatible with my career situation and temperament. Lucky for me, many of the world’s best recipes require less than fifteen minutes of cooking time.

But, even I must admit that there is something special about the soothing aroma and savory gravies created by slow cooking. So, I decided to brave my second reader-recommended cookbook, Braise by Daniel Boulud, time demands notwithstanding. Needless to say, the majority of the recipes are strictly weekend projects for me. So I hope you will forgive me for the missing review last week; it just took me that long to get through enough recipes to review this one.

The most striking thing to me about this cookbook is how different these bold, assertive multi-ethnic recipes are from the restrained, elegant food served at Boulud’s New York restaurants, Daniel and Café Boulud. It seems that Mr. Boulud likes to cook far more adventurous meals when he is on his own time. While most of these flavors were delicious, some of the recipes were actually a little too assertive for me. In particular, I was a little overwhelmed by the Indian-Style Quail in Beet, Apricot, and Tomato Chutney – the profusion of apricot, tomato mint and spices ended up tasting like the aggressive love child of a North African casserole and an Indian stew. But, it was still quite good and the accompanying fennel, apricot and saffron salad was inventive and delicious. The Spicy Merguez with Spinach and White Beans was also a gamey, assertive dish; I liked it, but Mr. Addict felt the lamb flavor was too gamey for his tastes. It was also a bit watery.

Everything else we tried was lovely. The Pork Butt with Hazelnuts, Golden Raisins and Jerusalem Artichokes had the most scrumptious, slightly sweet gravy; after soaking up this gravy for two hours, the Jerusalem artichokes and cippolini onions were melting rich and tender. Also, I was grateful that Daniel’s braising method mostly took place in the oven; I am notoriously bad at babysitting a simmering pan on a flame for hours. Here, at least I could put it in the oven and let it do it’s thing.

I should mention that most of the recipes are braised in the oven. This is a definite plus for me, but does require multi-step cooking processes for every recipe. These recipes were not low mainenance.  In fact, I would classify these recipes as fairly fussy, involving lots of peeling, soaking, making of crusts, etc. Boulud being who he is, rest assured these are not “fix it and forget it” type stews.

Interestingly, the most wonderful recipe that we tried was one that did not require a long cooking time, the Scallops with Salsify, Shiitake Mushrooms, and White Miso. For this dish, the scallops are seared on one side, the vegetables are separately sautéed in butter and miso, and then the whole affair makes a brief, fifteen minute visit to the oven (first braised and then broiled with a toasted crouton and herb topping). There was something unfamiliar about this dish. I think it may have been the taste of the reduced yuzu, which I have not cooking with before. Whatever it was, we instantly fell in love with this charismatic, mysterious dish. This is one I will definitely make again, soon.

The recipes I tried these last two weeks made me appreciate Boulud’s sophistication, boldness and mastery of flavor and technique. I am still not 100% over my suspicion of slow cooking, but I did warm up to it a little bit more.

One caveat about this book, though: I have had it exactly three weeks and it is completely falling apart.  Granted I do not treat my cookbooks gently but I thought that a three week shelf life is a little ridiculous.  Not that this should stop anyone from getting this book, but just thought you should know.

See you next week!

The Splendid Table: Wherein I Learn That My Readers Totally Rock

This week, you saved me from the tawdry and ultimately unproductive vanity cookbook rut that I seemed to have found myself in for the last few weeks. It was like I was back in my twenties, having the same relationship with the same vapid, just-barely-interesting person over and over again. Thank god I have you guys to set me straight.

This week I reviewed my first reader-recommended cookbook, The Splendid Table by Lynne Rossetto Kasper. And, it was splendid. In fact, this book – with its scholarly feel, historical introduction, substantial ingredient notes, and reassuringly thorough voice – was the perfect antidote to the mediocrity that was last week’s rendezvous with Marcus Samuelsson.

I love a cookbook that I can sit down and read. Because this book is focused on the cuisine of Emilia-Romagna in Northern Italy, it has a center, and substance. It reminded me of Macella Hazan’s cookbooks, but for me it captured even more of the culture and personality behind the dishes.

Also, I happen to love Northern Italian food – if I had to eat only one food for the rest of my life, it would probably be a stuffed pasta (putting aside, of course, the obvious nutritional folly of such a course of action).

So, of course, I had to try a stuffed pasta recipe. I decided to make the Cappellacci with Sweet Squash, an oversized version of tortellini stuffed with a mixture of roasted butternut squash and sweet potato and blanketed in sage butter. I have tried and loved many versions of this dish, but I thought that the addition of sweet potato in the filling here made it particularly luscious. However, in a moment of delusional bravado, I did decide to try Kasper’s instructions for rolling out the pasta by hand. It was really fun and interesting to try, but next time I’ll stick with the manual roller, thank you. Let’s just say that some of the resulting pieces more closely resembled doughy kreplach than paper-thin pasta. Purely my own fault, of course; and the filling was so good with the sage butter that I am obsessed with making these again with my usual pasta methods.  If you are fanatic enough to make your own pasta, I highly recommend that you try these. Next time I might try it with one of the other types of winter squash available, like Kuri or Kabocha.

The Taglietelle with Ragu Bolognese was also delicious. Beefy but light, it filled the kitchen with the kind of wondrous, slow-cooked aroma that makes you feel all is right in the world. The Pan Fried Veal Chops with Tomato Marsala Sauce was also delectable. Crispy with breadcrumbs on the outside and partially covered with a juicy tomato topping, it was a lovely Sunday night dinner. We served it with Kasper's Oven Roasted Radicchio, raddichio roasted in the oven until it miraculously turns into something crispy, caramelized, sweet and inexplicably artichoke-like.  Definitely my favorite radicchio preparation.

Just when this blog was starting to feel a little daunting, this book – suggested by one of you! – reminded me why I love reading and trying out new cookbooks. I feel like I have been introduced to a distinguished new friend, one that I hope to keep around for a long time.

Blitzing through the Continent: The Soul of a New Cuisine by Marcus Samuelsson

Readers, this was a harried week. I had all sorts of lawyerly challenges to contend with. So, cooking through the cuisine of a continent – plus expat recipes thrown in for good measure – was only bound to make me stressed and a little confused.

In fairness, I should state that I don’t know a lot about African food. But, this book didn’t do that much to enlighten me. Considering the context in which this book was being introduced – the hoopla about how Marcus Samuelsson was introducing African food to the culinary world – the introductions and explanatory text seemed a little thin to me. The recipes themselves were also a bit cursory for a fumbling cook such as yours truly. There was not as much explanation as I wanted regarding how things should turn out, or what to do if things start to go awry.  More frustrating to me, though, was the failure to explain the dishes – I would have loved to have found out more about the social meaning of a dish, or what defines success for that particular dish.

Take the Snapper Wrapped in Banana Leaves, which sounded lovely – a West African layered dish of rice in coconut milk and chicken stock, topped with plaintains and snapper nestled in banana leaves with garlic, chili and lemon. But, there was almost no explanatory text. Also, the rice did not cook evenly and the fish parcels barely fit into my dutch oven. I think maybe this dish needs to be made with an extra large dutch oven, not the type that most people have in their kitchen. I also thought the flavors were a little too unbalanced and aggressive. Mr. Addict liked the rice but didn’t like the dish as a whole.

The Ethiopian Stir-Fried Beef Stew was delicious, but I didn’t follow the recipe. The recipes instructs you to stir-fry the ingredients only briefly, and tells you to add the liquid just one minute before taking off of the flame. At that point, the stew did not look anything like the picture or the beef stews I have eaten at Ethiopian restaurants. Also, it would not have worked well on the injera (spongy Ethiopan flat bread) while so liquidy. So, I pulled out every last morsel of meat and cooked the liquid down a bit, in defiance of the instructions. As doctored, Mr. Addict loved it.

I had mixed feelings about the injera recipe too. Injera is traditionally made with a sourdough starter, and takes several days to prepare. In this version, baking soda replaces the starter and a little yogurt is added to give it the characteristic tang. I thought it tasted more like a slightly springy savory crepe than injera. But, it did go nicely with the beef, and made preparing a complete semi-Ethiopian meal on a weeknight feasible.  It did make me wonder, though, what type of injera Samuelsson is serving in his new restaurant, Merkato 55.

The Cumin Braai Bread, a simple yeasted loaf flecked with cumin and enriched with a spiced butter, was the only recipe that went completely smoothly.  This was one where I didn’t need his guidance to understand the desired texture or flavor profiles. I thought it was a little plain, but Mr. Addict liked it a lot.

My favorite parts of this cookbook were the rare portions here and there in which he did provide some background - like explaining that foie gras originated in Egypt and that the fattening of geese is depicted in hieroglyphics.

But, overall, this cookbook felt a little like a travelogue.  And the scope was, well, a bit untenable for someone who has not spent their life researching the subject.  I didn’t understand, at all, the decision to include Middle Eastern dishes and Jamaican dishes, or to provide any meaningful background on the culinary philosophy behind African cuisines. I guess in some ways the scope of the book isn’t really that different than, say, certain all-in-one cookbooks about Jewish food all over the world. But, the really good ones provide tons of context, back story, and authoritative stances on at least some pocket of the cuisine. That was missing here.

Have any of you been to Merkato 55?  If you have, please let me know what you thought!

Better than a Fantasy Television: The Seventh Daughter by Celia Chiang

My husband and I have a fantasy about our television (no, don't worry, it's not going to be that kind of fantasy).  It goes like this - whenever we watch one of our favorite food shows, we remark to each other repeatedly, as we are salivating over Lidia's gnocchi or Morimoto's cod, how glad we are that we purchased the special television that allows the viewer to taste everything on the show with the mere press of the button.

Cooking from the Seventh Daughter, by Celia Chang, was like making my way through the best possible book version of my fantasy television.  The beginning of each section of the cookbook starts with a chapter of her memoir.  The memoir is beautifully written and provides a fascinating glimpse into the world of an upper class Chinese woman on the eve of the revolution.  It is the intimately, humbly told story of a woman who has lived an extraordinary life.  Each chapter also, of course, vividly details the food that was so central to her life -- first in her family homes in Beijing and the Szechuan province, then in her time Japan after escaping China, and finally in San Francisco, where she opened the Mandarin restaurant.  And then the recipes follow.

I was a little skeptical when I read the recipes because they seemed very simple, and a few have been modified from authentic techniques in order to render them more practical for restaurant cooking.  But I need not have worried.  The recipes were clean, accessible, and an authentic blend of comfort, heat and flavor.  Because they were easy to follow and created such evocative results, I felt as if I were following along on Celia's journey by making my way through the recipes.

The Scallion Pancakes were a cinch to make and turned out flaky, crisp and not too greasy.  The pork potstickers had only a few ingredients; but when I bit into their juicy centers, memories of every good piece of dim sum I have even eaten washed over me.

The spicy Szechuan eggplant - deep fried eggplant slices studded with minced pork and dressed with soy, vinegar, wine, sugar and scallions - was tender, spicy and surprisingly delicate over some fluffy rice.  The noodle dishes, spiked with loads of garlic and ginger, were toothsome and soothing, and the broths were light and full of flavor.

The only dish I did not love were the tea eggs, which were gorgeous-looking with their marbleized tea-stained veining, but a little tasteless.  Next time, I would add more tea to the cooking liquid.

Celia wasn't the chef at the Mandarin.  Instead, she hired and supervised the chefs, as her mother did for the two chefs cooking for her childhood household.  She obviously has an expert palate, however, to create such simply, lovely dishes.  If you are looking for a comprehensive cookbook regarding the authentic cuisine of a particular Chinese province, there are books by Barbara Tropp and Fuschia Dunlop that will provide much deeper insight.  If, however, you are like me, and would love to curl up with an engrossing story with a few delicious meals to taste along the way, then you should turn off the Food Network and crack open Seventh Daughter.

You Can Be the Boss of Me: Suggest a Cookbook for Review

Readers, I am at your service.  If there is a particular cookbook that you would like me to review, or if you have any other thoughts, suggestions, snarky comments, erudite praise or bitter complaints regarding my choice of cookbooks, please post it in the comments here! 

Leaving the Enchanted Broccoli Forest: Vegetable Dishes I Can't Live without by Mollie Katzen

I feel like I may be the only person in the world who actually learned how to cook from the Moosewood cookbooks. Strange but true. When I was eighteen, I went to live in Jerusalem for a year, armed only with a previously unopened copy of Joy of Cooking. At that point, my entire culinary repertoire consisted of boiling water and using a microwave. One day, I came home to my overcrowded Jerusalem apartment to the most amazing smell. A roommate was making pesto with spaghetti from the Moosewood cookbook. I was utterly shocked, and totally enchanted, by the concept that fresh herbs could be used in food (who knew?). I ditched Rombauer and started borrowing my roommate's copies of the Moosewood Cookbook and the Enchanted Broccoli Forest, both by Mollie Katzen.

Mollie Katzen was the leader of an iconic vegetarian cooperative known as the Moosewood collective, known for the Moosewood restaurant in Ithaca and for the Moosewood series of cookbooks. Although she and the Moosewood collective have long since parted ways, each has continued to publish numerous vegetarian cookbooks. The early Moosewood series, charming though it may be, is known to many for unreliable recipes that often require doctoring. But, for me, they were also the place where I learned to cook from fresh ingredients and to appreciate the excitement that produce brings to food. I started shopping in the souk and learning about local produce, and became completely obsessed with cooking. Bizarrely enough, Mollie Katzen was kinda like my Alice Waters.

So I really wanted to like Vegetables Dishes I Can’t Live Without. Unlike her earlier cookbooks, however, this book seems primarily focused on streamlined, unfussy vegetable side dishes. Although Mollie has returned to the hand-written format that made early Moosewood so adorable, these recipes are neither as homey and filling, nor as charming, as her earlier books. Some – like the spaghetti squash pancakes and the ruby chard recipes – fell flat until I doctored them with cheese or condiments. The carrots in North African spices were a bit raw and unfinished-tasting. Unlike most recipes which I have tried, in which the carrots are boiled or steamed until soft and then covered with a cumin-spiked marinade greedily absorbed by the carrots, this one was steamed briefly and then roasted briefly with the spices.

A couple of the recipes were wonderful ideas that I would make again. The fennel with lemon – sauteed fennel matchsticks topped with paper thin slices of lemon that were dusted with flour and then fried until brown and crisp – was tart, caramelized and unreal. The spaghetti squash roasted in the oven for almost an hour with fried onions and topped with fried sage leaves was similarly caramelized and good. But while I thought these were great ideas, I will not need to confer with the cookbook to make them, simple as they are.

It is a little hard for me to understand the demographic at which this book is aimed. It seems to be designed for use by people with some, but not extensive, experience cooking vegetables, who are looking for a reference for quick vegetable side dishes with a little flair or a unique twist. While I will always be grateful to Mollie, I think there are other books that more expertly fit that niche – including books by Jack Bishop and Deborah Madison. Because those books are more reliable, sophisticated and informative, I would turn to them before this one. I will always love Mollie, but I think it’s time for my Moosewood cookbooks to go into storage.

Marine Sorcerers and the $24 Mushroom: Young Man and the Sea by David Pasternack and Ed Levine

Although I love a good fish dinner as much as the next gal, I have always had a couple of issues with cooking seafood at home:

Number one, I have an irrational fear that I will poison my guests by serving them raw fish.  The rational part of my brain understands that restaurants do not have some magical method for rendering raw fish safe to eat, either. But the emotional part of my brain is convinced that it is going to be the piece of fish that I bring home and serve to my friends that will end up being bad. 

Number two, I have been continuously frustrated in my attempts to sear scallops at home.  No matter which method I tried, what pan I used, what I did to the scallops, I never could capture that perfect crusty sear that makes restaurant scallops so delicious.

Well, with the help of Young Man, I have been somewhat rehabilitated with respect to my seafood handicaps.  I served raw fish (fluke crudo with radishes) and I seared scallops with a little brown crust.  In my book, these are no small accomplishments. 

And some of the recipes were wonderful.  The oilve oil poached halibut with golden roasted beets and blood oranges was silky, juicy and sweet - a lovely light winter fish dish.  The linguine with clams and pancetta was so good that it caused me to wonder whether marine pixies were not sneaking into my stove and replacing my dishes with those of some wicked talented seafood sorcerer.

Many food writers have noted that fish is difficult to gussy up in a lavish, fantastical, sauce-laden complex way.  Here, with the benefit of David's fishy genius, those same qualities in fish will inure to your benefit. David Pasternack's smarts lay in being able to choose the perfect method for cooking fish or seafood simply, with a few ingredients.  The recipes are very clean and intensely flavored; most are simply adorned with some vegetables and drizzle of olive oil.  Simple and perfect, for the most part.

But, some recipes were grossly out of whack. The Taglietelle with Nantucket Bay Scallops, for example, was slick with oil – it called for 6 tablespoons of butter and ½ cup of oil for a mere ¾ pound of pasta. I used half as much oil, and it was still so oily that no one could finish what was on their plates. The risotto with lobster and black trumpet mushrooms called for an inordinately large amount of mushrooms.  I used about half of them, and the risotto was still about 50% mushroom.  Pretty annoying considering that the mushrooms cost $24 a pound. I also noticed other problems with recipes – the description of scallops with spinach and parsnips, for example, references oranges in the description but does not include oranges in the ingredients or instructions.

Although I will be the first to admit that I am no pro in the kitchen, I really don’t see how these shortcomings could be attributable to my inexperience. I think that many of the recipes missed something in the translation from restaurant kitchen to home kitchen. For me, this is a book that I will use for ideas, but I will probably doctor and adjust the recipes as I go along.  After all, marine pixies are notoriously unreliable kitchen guests.