The Cookbook Addict

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!