Out to lunch.. Episode 1
Posted: 18/06/2010 9:30:22 a.m.
In fact, if my mum herself were to craft a Note To The Teacher to explain why I've not been around of late it would run something like this. "Dear Person In Charge. Please excuse Leanne's absence from your esteemed pages but she has been extremely busy finishing her own cookbook and has had little time for much else. (You should see her hair. And the spectacular layer of dust on her Lladro collection). On top of this she's been engaged in lengthy, drawn-out discussions with some terribly belligerent people on the vexed topic of The Existence Of Pavlova. You can't imagine the drama. With apologies for any inconvenience, yours respectfully, Mrs. The Smart Mouth"
Of the afore-mentioned distractions, the pavlova argument was by far the most time consuming and exhausting of all. Don't get me wrong- I believe wholeheartedly in the Existence of Pavlova. It doesn't take much faith, really- I've seen examples with my own eyes. And I'll grant you, it is practically a celestial being (pure-white, fluffy and wholly insubstantial). No, the debate was more along the lines of WHY it exists, who made it in the first place and what is its' ultimate purpose? Is the thing a deliberate creation or merely the effluent left behind by exploding stars and ballet dancers? Where does it go when it dies? Why can't the marshmallow-interior believers and the crispy-dry dissenters all get along and love one another like they're meant to? How did the false doctrine of the kiwi fruit garnish infiltrate the ranks of True Believers? Is the Rolled Pavlova a blasphemy, the consequence of syncretism or just good old Darwinism in action? Naturally this was an existential slinging match I won hands down... we all know there IS no justification for that amount of sugar, albumen and cholesterol (not to mention furry green fruit) congregating on the same serving plate and presenting itself at dessert time, ever. And to think....I live in the land if its' invention.
Right. Now I've stirred the pot somewhat I'll just go and hide behind the nearest wallaby until you all calm down a bit. While I'm there I'm going to contemplate my favourite 10 cookbooks of all time then emerge carefully and tell you what they are. I'm inspired to do this by several things- firstly, having just completed my own book, I've been reflecting on what it is about others' cookbook-writing efforts I most admire. Secondly, my friend the restaurant critic Simon Thompson recently broadcast his own all time favourite 10 cookbooks on the ABC here and he generated some strong reactions and lively debate. And thirdly because this will be quicker to write than my planned sermon-ette on meat and the evils of vegetarianism; you'll have to wait a little longer for that one to materialise.
Someone once contemplated my ridiculous cookbook collection then posed a provocative question- if my house were burning down, which would I take with me? The answer is....tadaa.... most likely none. My artworks, Turkish textiles and trusty Kitchenaid would take precedence even over... er...let's say the cat. But if I had to choose, the following are probably the ones I'd grab. Now I have more cookbooks than is humanly decent for one person to own so deciding was hard. With the exception of one that I've included for rather shallow, sentimental reasons, these books represent ones I actually use and cook from, a lot. And isn't that the point of a cookbook? So without further ado, and in no particular order, I present to you... my 10 favourite cookbooks of all time.....
(Well, actually, there's slight ado. This is longer than your average HBO mini-series so I'll chop it in half and slap up 2 installments. Am I thoughtful or what.)
1.The New Book of Middle Eastern Food, Claudia Roden, Knopf, New York, 2000.
This classic is as timeless and inspirational as ever it was; but I can only guess at this really, as I wasn't old enough to cook in 1968 when it first came to print. This latest edition is a handsome hard-backed thing that appeared 10 years ago as a result of Roden's fresh travels and research. And also with a mind to lower-fat eating trends and all the kitchen gadgetry that wasn't around in the Kennedy era; food processors and the like. So much has been written in praise of Roden's work it's almost impossible to throw anything new into the mix, even for one as verbose as me. Its' a book that manages to be encyclopedic in sweep yet intimate in tone. It's as great a bed time read as it is a practical companion in the kitchen- it's full of not just recipes (some 800 of them) but tips, tales, quote and anecdotes. In scope it's huge, covering the cuisines of Egypt, Lebanon, Syria, Jordan, Iran, Turkey and North Africa. These are all places that Roden has been visiting for over 40 years; she was in fact born in Egypt but has lived most of her life in England. I've had this book for donkeys' and I can't imagine living without it and if you're serious about food and using recipes that have true integrity, neither should you.
2.The Antipasto Table, Michele Scicolone, Morrow, New York, 1991.
OOoooh, this one was HARD. I WAS going to put Marcella Hazan's The Essentials of Classic Italian Cookery here. You'd think that'd be a no-brainer. Then there's Lynne Rosetti Kaspers' The Splendid Table...I have fond memories of eating in Emilia Romagna and this latter book, with its' tight focus on that Italian region, brings back a rush of lard-filled, Parmesan-stuffed, balsamic-doused, spice-infused, truffle-sprinkled memories. Then, I thought - sod it. It was Michelle Scicolones' book that first awakened me to the intense sweetness of slow-fried carrots, not Lynne's or Marcella's. It was Michelle who seduced me by the nutty yumminess of roasted cauliflower...... and I've never boiled a cauliflower since. I was a baked asparagus virgin before Michelle... but thanks to her, I'm totally deflowered and I've not wanted to do anything else with a spear henceforth. Before Michelle I was naive to the depths of pleasure found in capsicums stuffed with anchovies, breadcrumbs, capers, pecorino and chopped raisins or tomatoes cooked with grapes. Her savoury rice tart gets me going every time, her spinach and tuna roll will reliably finish me off while pillowy olive bread takes care of the crucial moments in between. I've been known to make entire meals based on The Antipasto Table....and it's fair to say the crowds- and I- go wild. Yep... when I got this book the penny dropped, the cherry popped and all sorts of things started happening in my kitchen. All of them totally decent, of course....
3.The Good Housekeeping Cookery Compendium, The Waverly Book Company, London, 1959
This tome is a wild-card inclusion and it's here for silly, nostalgic reasons. This was the only 'serious' recipe book I recall my mum owning (no disrespect to the Womens' Division Cookbook or the Helensville Plunket Recipe Collection)....although I don't believe she ever actually made anything from it. Most likely it was a wedding present and I spent my infant years gazing forlornly at the cake on page 355, festooned with crystallised violets and chocolate rabbits. I hoped against hope mum might one day whip it up for my next birthday but alas she never did. These were the days when meat had fat and housewives cooked mutton. Venison was hung for 2-3 weeks, Brussels sprouts boiled for 20 minutes and onions for an hour and a HALF. Sophistication involved extruding mashed potato through a star-nozzled piping bag with the resulting towers of golden Duchesse doubtless pleasing The Head Of The House no bloody end. White sauce was King ....and Queen... and President.... in fact it appears to have formed a brutal dictatorship with Plain Brown Sauce and suffocated everything in sight. Desserts had names like Cornflour Ring, Harlequin Mould and Tapioca Cream; back then no one was afraid of deep frying or loud gingham tablecloths or making their own puff pastry. Or the fall-out from calling cakes "nigger minstrels", it would disturbingly appear. There were no food processors or stick blenders or microwaves. The food is staunchly Anglo-centric and for this and many other reasons I find this book a fascinating artifact; it's not something I'd choose to cook from. No, I'm not making my 8 year old that rotten bunny cake either.
4. Movida Rustica, Frank Comorra and Richard Cornish, Murdoch Books, Sydney, 2009
oh....alright...so I fibbed. Here's a book I haven't actually cooked from yet but the point is- I SO WANT TO. And I've not had that reaction to a new cookbook for a very long time. While many recent releases are 'pretty' .....they're, well.... Zzzzzzzzzz.... boring. To me Movida Rustica epitomises all that is great about the modern cookbook....it has gritty location photography that just makes you want to GO to Spain, it has polished (but not overly-styled) food photography that drives you to practically eat the pages....and (most crucially) it has recipes that absolutely demand you get your sorry bum into the kitchen and cook. On top of that it is stunningly well designed (it recently won for design at the Australian Publishers' Association awards), is wonderfully tactile and has clearly written recipes. (Did I mention that I LOVE this book??). So, if you were coming to my place tomorrow for dinner, I'd whip up a Spanish extravaganza from Movida Rustica and it'd go something like this. I'd uncork the wine lake and while you were getting yourself comfy and regaling me with witty stories about your fascinating life, we'd nibble deep fried sticky pork croquettes, octopus terrine, beans with confit garlic and chickpea potage with spinach and salt cod. Gosh I nearly forgot the tomato salad AND the padrons stuffed with black pudding. You're getting quite hungry by now and the Tempranillo is going right to your head. Your oral history is becoming a little tedious but luckily serves of pan-fried trout with jamon, beef cheeks with Pedro Ximinez and quince and pumpkin ratatouille prove an effective muzzle. Over the baby lettuce hearts with garlic vinaigrette and anchovies we solve the world's problems, starting with redistributing wealth and removing our least favourite countries from the atlas. We completely reformulate the Chicken McNugget recipe and hatch a plan to let every industrially raised animal escape to the wild. We disagree violently over the exact spot on the Kamchatka Peninsula Sarah Palin should be sent to live, but never mind- dessert (almond meringues, torrone, puff pastry with apple compote coated in pine nuts) comes to the rescue. I don’t realise how life threatening your anaphylactic reaction to nuts actually is so I wave you off as the ambulance charges down to Royal Prince Alfred for your emergency cardiac intervention. I finish the pudding, stinky Valdeon and sherry off in peace and the next day I call the ward to see if you're fit enough to come and help with the dishes. It's the least you could do.
T.B.C....