Showing posts with label cookbooks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cookbooks. Show all posts

Thursday, February 18, 2016

Julia Child's home in Provence is now a vacation retreat and yoga studio.




Built in 1963, Julia Child's former home in Provence is now being turned into a cooking school and yoga studio. This is a natural progression from the French Chef ideal, as nothing channels your inner calming chakra like thoughts of a 6'2" chef wielding a meat mallet and cast iron frying pan.

For $2,650 per person, six guests will spend five days cooking and practicing yoga at La Pitchoune, the summer home of the famed chef. Child, author of Mastering the Art of French Cooking, personally designed the kitchen which remains relatively untouched over fifty years after its creation. Peg board walls well-adorned with pots and pans of every style still remain properly placed for use.

The yoga angle is the confusing part though, but I assume all celebrity chefs have some sort of gimmick. Like Jacques Pépin doing a spin class or Anthony Bourdain operating krav maga courses. No one understood the brutality of krav maga until they saw Julia bludgeon a Cornish game hen on a cutting board though.




Sunday, December 6, 2015

Or you can go to Dunkin' Donuts and save yourself the hassle.

You'll never look at olives the same way again.

Confederacy of Dunces
bridged the gap between Pulitzer-winning cult classic and outright classic sometime in the 1990s. When exactly, no one knows. The 1990s were a confusing time in American pop culture. It was a moment in history when we thought Winona Ryder might have a career, and that Johnny Depp was too odd to maintain one. What'd we know?

I'll admit, I spent the better part of a year thinking Confederacy of Dunces was channeling Doris Kearns Goodwin before I finally knew what it was all about. Not the civil war? It's about an overeducated fat guy in New Orleans who sells hot dogs from a pushcart?

And so it is. And like all pieces of literature that gain classic status in the 21st century, there's now a cookbook in its honor. Because if your nostrils don't flare at the delightful smell of hot dogs stewing in their own juices for a solid 12hrs, very little in life will.

While Confederacy of Dunces alludes to plenty of gastronomical curiosities, the cookbook is really about the delicious coronary bypass that is New Orleans food. That includes a recipe for jelly donuts, which the cookbook's author, Cynthia LeJeune Nobles, shares with NPR.

The recipe notes that the dough only requires 2.5 hours of rising time before you get around to frying--but it's preferable you wait 12 hours.

That's just wait time. That doesn't count making that dough. Or frying it. Or inserting jelly into each. And making a glaze. And sprinkling it with sugar. Sixteen hours later you, too, can devour four fluffy doughnuts in 35 seconds.

But the guilt and shame will last a lifetime.




Monday, November 23, 2015

Is it stuffing? Or is it dressing?



Later this week Americans will gather with family and friends for a massive dinner most assuredly involving turkey. But what goes with the turkey, despite angry relatives, is a matter of where you live.

Is it stuffing or dressing?

Each word comes from a different etymological root, and Americans even disagree what each word defines. Butterball conducted a survey of 1,000 random people in nine different regions, finding that the majority of Americans call it stuffing. No region was more partial to calling it stuffing than New England, where 100% of respondents claimed it as such.

On the flip side, the East South Central Region (I don't know--ask Butterball where they got that name), which includes Kentucky, Tennessee, Alabama, and Mississippi, all favor dressing as the word of choice. In total, only 11 states have a dressing majority--while everywhere else favors stuffing.


In 2013, Epicurious did a peak season term search for both stuffing and dressing, and largely found the same result. The only major anomaly Epicurious and Butterball differ on is the state of Nevada, where Butterball claims they call it dressing. But Epicurious says that stuffing is the third-most searched for term in Nevada, well ahead of dressing--so what does Butterball know? In the end, does anyone trust a Thanksgiving dinner cooked in Nevada? No. No they do not.

There's an old adage that stuffing is what goes inside a bird and dressing is what's cooked alongside, but there's no validity to back up up those definitions. The famed cookbook The Joy of Cooking, published continually since 1931, once made such a claim, simply throwing out that interpretation without any facts as to origin. The book's huge popularity potentially influenced generations to come nonetheless.

So what is the etymoligical history of each word? Let's look at both:

Stuffing:
As might be obvious, stuffing was created out of the verb "to stuff," while adding the suffix "-ing." The modern version was spoken between the 15th and 16th centuries, depending on which dictionary you want to rely upon, but no later than roughly 1538, when it appeared in print. The Middle English stuff comes from the Old French estoffe (furniture or material) and estoffer (equip or furnish). In turn, the Old French comes from the Greek stuphein (draw together).

Except some etymologists disagree, claiming stuffing really was born out of the Latin farcire, Which became the French farcir (stuff), which became the English farce. Regardless, all agree stuffing became the norm by the 1500s.

Dressing:
Like stuffing, dressing is created out of the verb "to dress" with the added suffix of "-ing," but appeared earlier than its counterpart. The Middle English dressen was popular between 1275-1325, evolving out of the Anglo-French dresser or drescier. That came from the very similar Old French drecier, itself evolved out of the Latin dīrēctus--following somewhat the same root as the modern word direct.

Still awake? Boiled down, stuffing comes from Greek (unless it comes from Latin), dressing comes from Latin (but it's definitely not Greek).

When in doubt.
That doesn't quite explain the disparity in how geographically Americans gravitate toward one word over the other. One theory put forth argues that stuffing was widely accepted throughout England until the 1880s, when high-minded Victorian society found the word too crude, thus gravitating toward dressing instead. The theory continues that those who immigrated to America pre-1880 said stuffing (and thus passed it down), while those who crossed the Atlantic post-1880 influenced the regions with dressing.

Meanwhile, some cooks claim it's a matter of cornbread versus typical bread--with the dressing crowd using cornbread, and the stuffing masses using white bread.

Even historical food timelines seem at a loss as to how the schism in the word usage came about. The Oxford English Dictionary, which is usually reliable in such matters, describes dressing--with regard to food--as a stuffing.

In the end, the linguistic mystery of how a nation became divided really is a matter of what you choose to believe. Greek versus Latin, population ebbs and flows, cookbook influences--there's no concrete answer.

Whatever you want to believe, when it doubt, just call it Stove Top.




Tuesday, October 27, 2015

Variety of 'Game of Thrones' pastry is surprisingly realistic, probably delicious.



You've never really enjoyed a dessert unless it's based on a literary theme and possibly makes you question your mortality.

So good news for you! HarperCollins is releasing a cookbook next month based on Game of Thrones, with the title of--wait for it, wait...for...it--Game of Scones. And it's as lovely and horrifying all the same.

Case in point, here's the montage for a sweet delight called 'Oberyn's Smashing Surprise':



But on a lighter note, there are these: Bran Muffins.


Get it? Get it? Ehhh.

Hodor!



photos: Orion Books/HarperCollins, via Time


Thursday, February 13, 2014

Julia Child went over a lot of potential titles before she landed on 'Mastering the Art of French Cooking.'


After a ten year process, famed chef and PBS pioneer, Julia Child, was ready to publish the cookbook she and her two partners, Simca Beck and Louisette Bertholle, had arduously compiled. 

In a letter to her editor Judith Jones, Child proposes a list of potential titles for the cookbook, including the ever-catchy Cooking Is My Hobby or the scintillating Food from France.

Things take a sexy turn when Child proposes Cooking for Love or, alternatively, The Passionate French Cook.

These copies of the letter Child sent to Jones from The Harry Ransom Center at the University of Texas at Austin show Child's complete list of potential titles, including the penciled in title which would ultimately be selected.
Julia Child Materials © 2012, The Julia Child Foundation for Gastronomy and the Culinary Arts. From the Harry Ransom Center's Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. records.

Julia Child Materials © 2012, The Julia Child Foundation for Gastronomy and the Culinary Arts. From the Harry Ransom Center's Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. records.
Alfred A Knopf, head of the publishing company, famously said about the potential title of Mastering the Art of French Cooking, "I'll eat my hat if that title sells."

As mentioned on the Julia Child page at the University of Texas, by 1974 Julia Child's cookbook sold 1.4 million copies with that title.

Somewhere, a hat died.




Saturday, August 25, 2012

Cookbook inspired by 'True Blood' is a thing.



Everyone knows all the greatest recipes are inspired by television series about vampires. This is why Cajun chef Marcelle Bienvenu and HBO have partnered to create a 'True Blood' themed cookbook.

Because it doesn't take a lot of imagination, there's plenty of blood puns making up the recipes, like Blood-red Beet Bisque and Sweet Tea "Bloodied" with Pureed Strawberries and Raspberries.

Beets. Wow, great. Twist my arm why don't you.




Saturday, March 31, 2012

Edible cookbooks: mmm, appetizing adverbs.


Good news for overweight folks looking for a new way to combine the joys of a sedentary lifestyle along with eating. Now there's a cookbook you can eat.

Mmm, edible adjectives...savory sentences...I must have this.

Korefe, a German design firm, has created the first edible cookbook. With pages made of pasta sheets, the sentences etched into the pasta create a recipe for making lasagna.

That involves moving up off the couch and cooking though, which is too much work. Someone needs to make a Twinkie or Ho-Ho with haikus on it instead. Call it Palatable Poetry or something.



photo: psfk.com

Monday, May 3, 2010

Time Magazine is pretty certain that books don't change the world.


Time Magazine likes to make arbitrary lists. I enjoy arbitrarily commenting on arbitrary lists. Here the two shall meet again.

Time has come out with their "Time 100"--the 100 (American-centric, popular right now) people who affect the world the most. Of the list, 25 slots are devoted to "Artists." Immediately, Time sees if you're paying attention by putting Lady Gaga as the #1 artist. And why not? It's always been known her humanitarian skills are second to none--in that she only sings occasionally, so as not to harm the delicate sensibilities of starving third world citizens.

Time includes Robert Pattinson, too. Nothing affects the good people of the world like the man who portrays a vampire in a novel for teenage girls. My goodness, that sort of cache is pope-like, it's impossible to deny. He has a doll in his likeness, too. Sure, so did He-Man and She-Ra, but you never saw them make Time's list, now did you?

Of the 25 (who hardly qualify as) "Artists," two people who write actual books made the list. This was probably an oversight on Time's part, but we'll give them their due. One of them, Chetan Bhagat, is a self-described banker who "can't get numbers out of [his] head." Put another way, he's a wordsmith. The other, Suzanne Collins, once wrote for Nickelodeon television, and now has a series of children's sci-fi books that I've never heard of because puberty has long passed me by.

So, as you can see, we lovers of the written word are setting the world on fire. A self-described banker/math junkie and a children's sci-fi author is as far as we get. Apparently Time is too high-brow to consider Paula Deen's cookbook as a literary masterpiece for 2010. Well, la-di-da. At this pace for writers, though, 2011 seems like a sure shot for Paula.