Cookbooks

Yesterday at a second hand bookstore I came across an Italian cookbook by region. I was tempted to buy it, but I didn't. It seemed like a good coobook, but how can one tell? What makes a good cookbook and how can you tell just by looking at one?

I don't own many cookbooks. In fact I own three - Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking Volumes 1 & 2 and another cookbook I bought on Provencal regional cuisine. I bought the Julia Child cookbooks in an older edition second hand because they were 4,00 euros for both and I thought why not, but I've never cooked anything out of it. In fact I've never cooked anything out of my cookbooks because I seem to only own cookbooks for French cuisine, which understandably given my French grandmother was a chef I've never needed. My grandma made sure I memorised every recipe she deemed to teach me. I've never learned from a cookbook because I've either learned from someone while cooking with them or I've figured out the recipe myself (I reverse engineer dishes I love from restaurants for example) and knew what techniques the food was going to need.

I've been playing with the idea of making my own cookbook for a really long time, but it's hard work for someone who doesn't use cookbooks. Not only do I have to choose which recipes would make it into a cookbook of mine, but I need people to test the recipes and learn how to write recipes that are easy for other people to follow. Part of this blog was supposed to be about cooking and posting recipes that people might try and then comment on to give me feedback, so I'm going to focus a little bit on that once I'm back from my holidays.

The thing is, even when people compliment my food and tell me I should one day open a restaurant I don't take them seriously. The reason why is mostly because I don't see a particular amount of talent in what I do in the kitchen. In some ways I take my ability to cook for granted because I don't see cooking as particularly difficult. I think anyone could cook what I cook if they practice and like cooking. I'd love to find a way to put that same mentality into a finished cookbook in such a way that people who cooked with my recipes would feel the same way. I cook with passion for people I care about. That's perhaps the secret ingredient to my cooking. I just love watching people I love eat.

My neighbour, for whom I cooked Korean food for his birthday party is still raving about how pleased his guests were. They wanted to know if I gave cooking classes; they asked for recipes and my advice on this or that. And most of these people were French, so I feel a bit more pride at knowing that I got a bunch of French people to try something new (and spicy).

Now I stopped my post here - thanks to Blogger's draft feature - and went back and bought that Italian cookbook. Why? Because I found reviews about it on Amazon that said the author, Ada Boni was apparently a very famous Italian cookbook writer in the 50's and 60's and it had all 5 star reviews by people who obviously loved this book, thought the recipes were truly authentic (not that I don't love Italian-American cuisine because having lived in Boston for so long I really grew to appreciate the Italian-American cuisine found in the North End of Boston), and simple to follow or to find substitutions for certain ingredients (though now that I've looked through the book myself I'm wondering where I'm going to find fresh oregano and beef suet in France).

One reviewer stated that Marcella Hazan, the famed Italian chef that was a pet of the New York Times apparently learned how to cook from Ada Boni's books. This well-loved and well-respected by none other than Marcella Hazan cookbook was a major steal at 10 euros given it's out-of-print and what I like to call an "inadvertent discovery" (books I want for some reason but don't know why, then come home to research only to discover I've somehow wanted that book but just didn't know yet).

More research on Ada Boni turns up a wealth of information that just makes me want to buy more of her cookbooks. Ada Boni started a sort of lady's home journal called Preziosa and that she published a massive encyclopedic volume containing 2000 authentic recipes by region (beating out the former champion of Italian cookbooks Artusi - who deserves his own post - by 1400 recipes) known as the Talismano della Felicità, The Talisman of Happiness. (I found all this information on a wonderful Italian cooking blog you can find here called Memorie di Angelina.)

I'm now terribly impatient to cook something from this new cookbook. I don't know where to start, but I suppose I will start with Venice as I lived there for a year and my memories of Venetian cuisine are still very close to my heart though it's not my favourite overall. Now I love southern Italian cuisine, but in the winter months I crave the type of cuisine one can eat in the north. Osso bucco with saffron risotto is probably my favourite Italian meal. If the weather keeps it up, I might actually be able to justify making it!

Here's the cookbook I purchased which is as I said out of print. You can find copies via Amazon or ABEBooks. Here's a link on ABE which is the same as the one I bought that isn't too expensive.

What are you favourite cookbooks and if you've cooked from one of Ada Boni's books before, what did you think?

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French Magazine "Horoscope" Predicts Amy Winehouse's Death

I ran across this at the newstand today. Remember when I posted about Amy Winehouse's unfortunate death and the magazine? This is it.

Apparently it was a big topic of discussion on French websites the morbid coincidence that this magazine said Amy was fated to join the "27 Club" because of the align of the planets (specifically Neptune) and how despite only having a few months left before her 28th birthday this "prediction" has sadly come true.

On http://www.whenwillamywinehousedie.com/, 4 people predicted the exact date of Amy Winehouse's death, one of whom did so in December 2007. That person has won an iPod touch, presumably manufactured the same year the oh so lucky winner made their prediction.

I didn't want Amy Winehouse to die. I didn't think it was funny or interesting that she looked all fucked up all the time or that she flashed her crotch when some papparazzi just happened to be there to photograph her most intimate of parts.

When Monsieur Redacteur told me about this magazine I thought it was a humorous coincidence because I didn't believe she was going to die. You can read more if you like about my reaction to the news of Amy's death here.

I was catching up on episodes of The Glee Project, one of my favourite shows and one of the contestants sang "Valerie". It was a sad moment realising that at the time the show aired Amy was alive and perhaps making her comeback. Though there is lots of things in the news about Amy having died because of alcohol withdrawal, it's highly unlikely that anyone dies from alcohol withdrawal, but why would that be better news? It's even more tragic. Not ironic as some many news articles are stating. It's flat out fucking tragic if she died because she was trying to stop drinking.

I haven't been able to get the song out of my head all day. So this is for all of you and her too. It's a song that showed what Amy could do. She could sing.

God she had a beautiful voice. Listen to her live and then a recording and tell me it's not almost exactly the same. Her voice was perfection. Our generation's Billie or Nina.

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Go the FOK to Sleep

I'd hear of the book "Go the FOK to Sleep" by Adam Mansback before, but it wasn't until I listened to it read by Samuel L. Jackson that the book came to life for me.

That being said, is this book really for children? Of course it isn't (at least I hope it isn't). It is hilarious though and more so if you've ever found yourself in a situation where you had a kid who just wouldn't go to sleep. It reminds me quite a bit of when my god daughter was young and getting her to bed required diplomacy, patience, and strategic outmanouvering such as heading her off at the bedroom door when she had to go to the bathroom yet again...

Here's the book as read by Samuel L. Jackson. It makes the story better, even in the parts where it gets very repetitive.

Best line? "I know you're not thirsty, that's bullshit. Lie down and go the fuck to sleep".

The book started when Adam Manbach Facebook'd "Be on the lookout for my forthcoming children's book, 'Go the Fuck to Sleep,'". Eventually after receiving positive responses, he sat down and wrote the book (which he insists thankfully is for adults).

Of course I can't go the fuck to sleep since it's 10 am, so I'll be going the fuck to town to run errands and find a way to use up the liters of guacamole I made last night...

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Paul Poiret and Yves Saint Laurent - Fashion Royalty

Paul Poiret (1879 - 1944) was a sort of childhood prodigy when it came to creating beautiful things. I found a copy of his autobiography and highly recommend it to anyone who either wants to learn about fashion history or loves Paris. It was a fascinating  and inspiring read.

Paul Poiret's story starts in the neighbourhood of Les Halles. Back before Les Halles was one of the worst places to have to pass through on public transport or a seedy teen hangout, Les Halles was the biggest market in Paris before they moved it out toward Orly in 1971.

I found this amazing video, unfortunately entirely in French for non-French speakers about the market. Imagine that during Poiret's time the market had been open for a few decades and was in full swing. His own father was a merchant and the Poiret family lived in buildings built especially to house the merchants and other workers of the market.

A book I highly recommend for anyone who might be interested in Les Halles before Poiret's time is Emile Zola's "The Belly of Paris". The book takes place in 1858 and is a must read for anyone who is interested not only in the Les Halles market, but also in the history of Paris or of France's foodie history. You will feel both nauseous and delirious with hunger thanks to Zola's gift with words. You might also ended up having an extreme distaste for materialism and the bourgeois classes, because Zola was also a genius at satire.

Paul Poiret grows up in this market, always surrounded by the wares intended for those who could afford them, and while his family wasn't poor they weren't rich. One thing I truly enjoy about his autobiography is that it is obvious that he not only acknowledges his humble beginnings, but takes immense pride in being "cultivated" through his own efforts. He spends his money as any proper member of the nouveau riche should on lavish parties and as he puts them "extravagances", but Poiret also did a number of extremely charitable things with his money. Les arts decoratifs (the decorative arts) was a movement almost entirely founded by Poiret - something that doesn't even seem to warrant a mention in other books I've read about Poiret over the years. He also bought a great amount of art from friends, took them on inspirational yatching trips around the Mediterrean (at the cost of 100,000 francs which would be 15,000 euros in today's money without calculating for what 100,000 francs was really worth in Poiret's time so imagine what it'd really be in today's money with inflation) and never snubbed les provincals as most Parisiens would.

Being such a fan of Yves Saint Laurent, I can see so many parallels in their lives and careers. Poiret started selling his designs at a young age and worked for Doucet and the Worth brothers until he decided to set off on his own. Saint Laurent was a talent from a young age and beat out other hopefuls (including Lagerfeld) and ended up working for Christian Dior who himself intended to be his successor after he was gone. Poiret was the king of marketing, but Saint Laurent wasn't shabby either. One need only think of the Chinese ship Saint Laurent hired for a party in New York to launch his Opium perfume and realise that he got the idea from Monsieur Paul Poiret, who was the first person to ever understand that the fancy parties, the beautiful models, and living a certain lifestyle were all essential to making women want to wear your clothes.

One interesting thing I learned from Poiret's autobiography is that he was the first to understand that a fashion designer must have his Muses. For Poiret his wife Denise was his greatest Muse. He saw in Denise, a girl from the provinces, but with some potential for more perhaps a bit of himself. He cultivated her with clothes and made her the most fashionable woman of Paris. Saint Laurent has his Muses, both of whom are two of my major fashion icons Betty Catroux and Loulou de la Falaise. It's because of Betty (whom I see from time to time in Paris) that I hunted down a le smoking for years (I finally found one after a search that started when I was 13 years old when I was 29 in my size and I could afford it since it was somehow only priced at 120 euros) and it's because of Loulou that I think it's perfectly okay to wear what my friends call my "Disco Ball" dress (it's a vintage black crochet dress from the 70's covered in 1 euro coin sized gold sequin disks that basically reflects lights when light hits it in a way that requires sunglasses to look at me).

My Muse, my grandmother Juliette, gave me my first Saint Laurent jacket (introducing me to the Saint Laurent shoulder) and skirt suit. I think I've talked about her before, but even now there is a part of me that hopes I will age gracefully like my grandmother and that my wardrobe will some day be as beautifully furnished and my style equally effortless seeming as hers. She inspires me.

Poiret is undoubtedly inspired Saint Laurent's and even if he didn't confess it openly, one could easily see Poiret's love of Orientalism and flare in Saint Laurent's collections.




Poiret's famous kimono coat.




Velvet coat, Paul Poiret




Cocktail outfit, Paul Poiret




Day dress, Paul Poiret




Evening dress, Yves Saint Laurent 1981



Suit, Yves Saint Laurent S/S 1978

Dress, Yves Saint Laurent S/S 1971

Dress, Yves Saint Laurent S/S 1967

Now normally I wouldn't have let anyone usurp YSL from my esteem. In terms of creation and construction, Yves Saint Laurent and Cristobal Balenciaga may be the greatest createurs (a word that differs from designer in that it means someone who truly creates something) the world have ever known.

The "Saint Laurent shoulder" I was passed down like an heirloom from my grandmother is still not forgotten by the women who know of its magical ability to transform the feminine silouhette. Just yesterday when I went into a swanky vintage shop to see how much they wanted for a second-hand calf leather tan Birkin (which I never found out, but they were asking 15,000 euros for a black crocodile Kelly bag) and talked with the Madame there both of us agreed, "One doesn't find the Saint Laurent shoulder anymore and the woman's jacket suffers from its absence." (I translated what the Madame said and my response was "ce type de qualité n'existe plus" (This type of quality no longer exists.) 

But reading Poiret's biography was to gaze into the omphalos of why Paris is the capitol of fashion (not just because La Chambre Syndicale de la Couture says so in their marketing campaign). Clothes and other things were always made in other places, but only because some genius who went to Paris like Poiret made them fashionable. We win because of the sheer number of createurs who knew France was the place to have their genius appreciated - Worth, Madame Gres, Poiret, Jean Patou, Cristobal Balenciaga, Chanel, Schiaparelli, Doucet, Christian Dior, Maison Massaro, Lesage, Vionnet, Saint Laurent, Courreges, Ungaro, Alaia...

It has been a long time since fashion has been exciting to me. Poiret's autobiography brought out all those old feelings. It makes me want to get dressed up and go out somewhere wonderful and drink champagne and laugh and live.

Poiret understood women. He knew that there is something beautiful and mysterious and wonderful about each and every one of us. Today I've remembered that.

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Roasted Chicken Aftermath

Yesterday I roasted two whole roasting chickens in the oven. I always roast my chickens two at a time because any extras get used up in delicious ways. Yesterday's chickens were nothing fancy. I rubbed them with a paste of butter, salt, pepper, a pinch of cayenne flakes, some lemon juice, thyme, and a little bit of nutmeg. The end result was a moist chicken with a delicious jus that collected at the bottom of the roasting pan. I served the thighs with white rice and some vegetables and nibbled a little extra here and there (like the oysters, which are my favourite part).

Today I'm going to use some of the breast meat to make a salad using a few of the peppers and tomatoes I've grown in our community plot along with some of the rosemary I grew. It'll be simple just the chicken and bits from the garden along with cucumber, feta, and lots of thinly sliced red onions. I might also make some croutons, but I'll focus my attention mostly on how to make this simple salad as delicious tasting as possible as that means making an excellent dressing.

One thing I'm really into at the moment for summer is fresh herb dressings. So instead of using powdered onion, garlic, etc. I use all fresh onions and garlic to start and then make something with what I happen to have that's fresh and around. For tonight I have fresh rosemary, parsley, basil, and sage. I've decided to stick with parsley, sage, and rosemary.

Fresh Herb Dressing

handful of fresh roughly chopped parsley

6 leaves of fresh sage finely chopped

10 "leaves" of fresh rosemary

3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

2 T salt

1 T dried oregano (is it impossible to find fresh oregano outside of Italy??)

liberal amount of freshly ground black pepper

1 T sugar

1/8 cup balsamic vinegar

3 T Dijon mustard

1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil

2 cloves of garlic finely minced

1/2 red onion finely minced

1/4 cup of finely chopped feta cheese (optional)

Add the salt and balsamic vinegar and let dissolve. Next add the Dijon mustard and mix to dissolve. Add the fresh spices, oregano, sugar, garlic, onion, and feta cheese if using. Slowly dribble in olive oil while mixing until the mixture is blended and add the lemon juice.

Let sit at least 30 minutes, but overnight is better.

Whatever is leftover is going to become homemade chicken soup.

I make my own chicken broth using the carcass (bones), leftover jus, and inedible bits of chicken. Since there's already thyme in the juice, I'll only need to add bay leaves, fresh garlic, fresh sage leaves, chopped fennel, onion, and a little bit of carrot to create my broth or bouillon. It will take several hours as I'll need to get rid of the scum that forms as I simmer my ingredients.

I always make my chicken stock the day before so I can leave it to come to room temperature overnight. This allows the fat to congeal easily on the top and you can decide how much of the fat you want to keep. I always keep a little for homemade chicken soup as it adds to the flavour.

I have Day Two bouillon now. I let it sit overnight covered, stirred it this morning, added a little salt (notice I hadn't added any yet), brought the liquid level up the original amount when I added the carcasses, and it's now simmering again on the lowest possible heat.

I'll post more about my chicken soup including recipes and pictures later.

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