Last Minute Gifts....
Read a good book lately? Also, the recipe for my favorite Christmas eve dinner. A classic vintage menu. And a gift I KNOW you haven't thought of.
You, dear readers, are book people. When I wrote about vintage bookstores a couple weeks ago, you crashed a few of the sites. As one bookseller told me yesterday, The people I’ve come to meet from your newsletter are different. It’s as if I’ve been welcomed into a club, or suddenly made visible to the sort of people who see food as a point of interest beyond sustenance, like a curiosity, or a puzzle to be solved; a history to be learned.
I assume your friends are also readers, and in that vein I offer up a few of my favorite food books. It may be too late to mail-order a gift, but it’s never too late to wander into your local bookstore.
Vibration Cooking, or The Travel Notes of a Geechee Girl by Vertamae Smart- Grosvenor. I bought this book when it came out in 1970 and read it cover to cover in one sitting. It’s one of my all-time favorite books, and it makes me very sad that it isn’t better known.
The Kitchen Diaries by Nigel Slater. I don't think anybody has ever made food sound more delicious. When he describes a beet, for instance, it comes alive for you on the page and you suddenly want to run out and eat as many beets as you possibly can. It's sheer sensuousness.
The Gastronomical Me by M.F.K. Fisher. Written in 1943, this is one of the earliest food memoirs. I love almost everything Fisher wrote, but this is my favorite. If you haven’t read this bit on eating tangerines, you have quite a treat in store. It’s my favorite piece of food writing.
The Language of Baklava by Diana Abu-Jaber. One day when I was talking to Diana she said, "There's something safe and wonderful about being raised by a strict father, but it has its drawbacks." That's pretty much what this memoir - about growing up partly in Jordan and always with food- is about.
Climbing the Mango Trees by Madhur Jaffrey. Jaffrey’s cookbooks are, of course, wonderful, but this extraordinary cook also has an amazing ability to recall and re-create the evocative flavors of the India she grew up in.
Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain. The original bad boy chef and so much fun!
Our Lady of Perpetual Hunger by Lisa Donovan. “Stop letting men tell your story,” the indomitable Diana Kennedy once told Lisa Donovan. The result is this beautiful book by a wonderful southern chef.
Everything is Under Control by Phyllis Grant. What happens when a poet (and ballet dancer) decides that she wants to be a chef? This gorgeous book.
Hungry by Jeff Gordinier. One of our finest food writers finds himself caught in the crazy orbit of one of the world’s most fascinating chefs. Whatever you think you know about Rene Redzepi - this will tell you so much more.
Heat and Dirt by Bill Buford Bill has such an interesting mind…. I love everything he writes. But his description of working in the restaurants of Lyon makes you understand the origin of all the bad behavior in professional kitchens.
The Tummy Trilogy by Calvin Trillin. This could be subtitled: Why life is more fun for people who like to eat. Pure pleasure.
The Apprentice by Jacques Pepin. There is a reason why Jacques Pepin became one of our most celebrated French chefs. He’s not only technically accomplished, but also deeply curious and extremely intelligent. He just turned 89, and he’s seen a lot.
Talk Talk by T.C. Boyle. A novel about identity theft that contains some of the most wonderful descriptions of cooking I've ever read.
Up in the Old Hotel by Joseph Mitchell. The ultimate writer's writer, Mitchell is not usually thought of as someone who focuses on food. But many of his stories are about markets, pubs and restaurants. And this book contains my all-time favorite food story, "All You Can Hold for Five Bucks."
Home Cooking: A Writer in the Kitchen by Laurie Colwin. You've never read Laurie Colwin? What a treat you have in store.
Between Meals: An Appetite for Paris by A.J. Liebling. Most famous quote: "The primary requisite for writing about food is a good appetite." A truly great writer’s memoir about eating in Paris in the twenties.
Hotel Splendide by Ludwig Bemelmans. An endlessly amusing behind-the-scenes look at a great hotel restaurant by the man who wrote the Madeline books. Bemelmans wrote from experience; he worked at The Ritz.
Fair Shares for All by John Haney. An extraordinarily affectionate book about growing up on English food when it was truly terrible - written by Gourmet’s last and very beloved copy editor.
Down and Out in London and Paris by George Orwell. I think it was the model for Tony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential, but I know that once you’ve read this book you will never forget it. Contains a remarkably graphic, and completely unforgettable, behind-the-scenes look at restaurant kitchens.
Blue Trout and Black Truffles by Joseph Wechsberg, a longtime writer for Gourmet. Wechsberg’s book about Le Pavillion restaurant is another classic.
Mastering the Art of Soviet Cooking: A Memoir of Food and Longing by Anya Von Bremzen. A memoir, in recipes, of living in the Soviet Union and coming to America. Totally original and completely wonderful.
Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata. This strange little novel is very accurately described by its title. I couldn’t put it down.
Memorial by Bryan Washington. I loved Lot, the book of short stories by this wonderful writer, but in his first novel, which takes place in Houston and Japan, he spends a lot of time in the kitchen. In a surprising and brilliant move the New York Times has given Washington a food writing slot.
Blood, Bones and Butter by Gabrielle Hamilton. This is, in my opinion, the best of the many, many wonderful chef memoirs out there.
Thirty-Two Yolks by Eric Ripert. Tony Bourdain called this book “heartbreaking, horrifying, poignant and inspiring.” It’s all of that - and also a great introduction to our most beloved chef.
Heartburn by Nora Ephron. This novel about the breakup of Ephron’s marriage to Carl Bernstein is both heartbreaking and hilarious. Her journalism is fantastic too; if you haven’t read Wallflower at the Orgy, here’s a link. And then there’s Crazy Salad; best title ever for a book (it’s from a Yeats poem).
The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan. You haven’t read Tan’s debut novel? What are you waiting for?
The Last Chinese Chef by Nicole Mones. It’s a love story, it’s a mystery, and it’s also a thorough explanation of Chinese food. You’ll learn more about the recent history of food in China from Nicole Mones’ novel than you will from most cookbooks. Although when it comes to Chinese cookbooks, I recommend everything by Fuchsia Dunlop. Here’s a link to my favorite of the many articles Fuchsia wrote for Gourmet.
Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver. The extraordinary novelist decided that she and her family were going to spend a year raising their food or getting it from neighbors. This eloquent book is the result. (They had to do without most processed foods, but they each got to select one exception to the rule.)
Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner. Everybody loves this book. For good reason.
The Cookbook Collector by Allegra Goodman. A delicate tale of sisters, food, book collecting, cookbooks…..
My Year of Meats by Ruth Ozeki. I’ve admired every book Ozeki has written, but this novel, about the meat business, was way ahead of its time.
The Book of Salt by Monique Truong. A delicate and poignant novel about a young Vietnamese cook who works for Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas in Paris.
Eat Like a Fish by Bren Smith. Smith was born in Newfoundland and became a commercial fisherman while still in his teens. He lived hard and loved it. Then he became a restorative ocean farmer, set up a nonprofit to teach others how to do it and won the $2 million Food Planet Prize for initiatives revolutionizing food production. Part memoir, part manifesto, this is an inspiring book.
Christmas eve, to me, means meatballs. As I began collecting the ingredients for this year’s feast, I happened upon this piece I wrote about ten years ago.
What made me do it? Not quite sure. I know better than to think turkey meatballs are going to be great. Yesterday, as I was working on the memoir about the Gourmet years, I came across a recipe we printed in the TV issue in 2004. A famous chef came into our kitchens at 4 Times Square, to demonstrate the dish. I didn't really remember it, but now, intrigued by the inclusion of pine nuts and golden raisins, I decided to make it.
Let me begin by saying that the start to finish time - listed as an hour - was a total lie. There's no way you can do it in an hour. The truth is, we often fudged the timing on recipes; if we told you that it was going to take three hours, would you really embark on the project? Let me also say that it's a rare Gourmet recipe that lets you down. In all honesty, I liked the ragu quite a lot: it was full of flavor, and thin enough to allow the pasta to inhale the sauce, soaking it up until it is literally part of the pasta. But the meatballs....
When I make meatballs, I want airy spheres that evaporate beneath your teeth, whispering lemon, sighing Parmesan, each bite leaving an echo in its wake. A simple sauce that sings tomato. A dish that rewards your effort by arriving at the table wreathed in joy, eager to make everybody happy.
What I want are the meatballs that Maggie Ruggiero developed for what would turn out to be one of Gourmet's final issues. At the first tasting I said "Why don't you add a little lemon zest?"
"You always say that," Maggie replied. But she admitted that I was right.
This is a recipe that is well worth your time. (To be fair, it is time-consuming; we listed the active time as 2 hours. But that’s only if you’re very, very fast.)
Classic Meatballs and Spaghetti
Tomato Sauce
2 medium onions, chopped
1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
6 garlic cloves, finely chopped
6 (28-oz) cans whole tomatoes in juice (preferably San Marzano)
4 teaspoons salt
pepper
Cook onions in oil over medium heat for about 10 minutes, until they are translucent. Add garlic and stir for a couple of minutes, then add the tomatoes, crushing them with your hands as you stir them into the pot. Add the juice, salt, a few good grindings of pepper and simmer for about an hour until thickened.
Meanwhile, make the meatballs.
Meatballs
2 medium onions, finely chopped
1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
10 garlic cloves, finely chopped
3 cups torn day-old Italian bread
2 cups whole milk
6 large eggs
2 cups (1/4 pound) grated Parmigiano cheese
1/3 cup finely chopped flat-leaf parsley
2 tablespoons finely chopped oregano
1 tablespoon grated lemon zest
4 1/2 lb meatloaf mix (a mix of ground pork, beef and veal)
5 teaspoons salt
2 teaspoons pepper
1 cup olive or vegetable oil
Cook onions in oil in a 12-inch heavy skillet over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 10 minutes. Add garlic and cook, stirring occasionally for about 3 minutes. Transfer to a large bowl to cool.
Soak bread in milk in another bowl until soft, about 5 minutes. Firmly squeeze bread to remove excess milk, discarding milk.
Stir together cooled onion mixture, bread, eggs, Parmigiano, parsley, oregano, lemon zest, salt, and pepper until combined. Add meat to bread mixture, gently mixing with your hands until just combined (do not overmix).
With dampened hands form meat mixture into about 70 (1 1/2-inch) balls and arrange meatballs on 2 large baking sheets.
Heat oil in a 12-inch heavy skillet (preferably nonstick) over medium-high heat until hot but not smoking, then brown meatballs in 4 or 5 batches (without crowding), turning frequently, about 5 minutes per batch. This is more time consuming than you think it will be. Return to baking sheets as they cook.
Add meatballs to sauce and gently simmer, covered, stirring occasionally, until cooked through, 20 to 30 minutes. (If pot is not large enough, divide meatballs and sauce between 2 pots.)
Served over 2 pounds of spaghetti, cooked al dente, this will feed 12 to 16 people.
Make-ahead: meatballs can be made and simmered in sauce 5 days ahead. Cool, then cover and store in the refrigerator.
Meatballs with sauce can be frozen in an airtight container for up to 3 months.
Michael Krikorian has invented a whole new category called Fictional Journalism that makes a perfect present..
With your help this award-winning journalist will craft a “front page story” about your friend, complete with photographs. This is how Michael describes the process.
Fictional Journalism starts with actual journalism. Reporting. Asking questions. Having a conversation. Getting someone to open up. Before you and I have a conversation about the star of the story, I have a slew of questions to help formulate the story, such as:
What is this person most passionate about?
Does the person have a favorite movie, actor or actress?
A favorite singer or band or song?
A favorite sports team or player?
A favorite historical period or person?
And a whole lot more…
It only costs $75 - and I can’t think of a more thoughtful or original - gift than their own personal front page story.
A little blast from the past. Merry Christmas one and all.
This list is a gift in and of itself. So many I still need to read!
Great list of books! Thank you! However, you omitted one of my favorites, "Tender At the Bone". I loved that book, and recently managed to get a copy at the Strand and I gave it to my daughter in law. I always recommend "My Year of Meats" also.