I love books about food.
I have read quite a few backstage at the restaurant books, like Kitchen Confidential, by Bourdain and Heat by Buford. I like Ruth Reichl's memoirs about being a restaurant critic -- especially Garlic and Sapphires. I've also read any number of wine books. Yes, wine is food.
And, of course, cookbooks make great reading. I confess I like the ones with pictures most. But the Best Recipe books that are heavy on explanation are the most helpful for cooking, if you really want to go so far as to try making the recipes you read.
Ross bought me a terrific book for Christmas. It's Secret Ingredients: The New Yorker Book of Food and Drink. (By the way, I'm using my new gecko bookmark in it -- thanks, Nita and Ted!)
Unfortunately, da boyz like food books, too, and ate the cover while I was out the other day. Very upsetting.
Ross and I have spent a couple days now picking books to keep and packing them up for the move to Mexico. We're keeping more than any two people can read in a lifetime. But choosing (or chewing) books isn't always about logic.
2 comments:
Yum. Food books. I mean the contents, not the cover (Bad Boyz!). Now, if I would only cook accordingly! Yesterday, in a fit of non-inspiration, I took some left-over chicken out of the freezer without noting that it was the suspect chicken I'd thrown in the freezer when leaving for a few days, in order to keep the fridge from stinking when I was in a hurry to get to the airport. Um, well, it was suspect then and very suspect by the time it hit my intestines yesterday. One of my new year's resolutions is to cook! No, wait, to not put suspect food in the freezer, no matter what!
Oh dear! What a story!
Ross is always saying "food shouldn't hurt," but he means food shouldn't be so spicy that you sweat -- not that food shouldn't attack your intestines.
I want to cook more, too. But not today.
Post a Comment