The Once and Future Classic Cookbook

Over the past six years or so, I've probably looked at hundreds of cookbooks. Working in publishing facilitates this, naturally; my job has afforded me the luxury of writing about great works of culinary education, like The Gourmet Cookbook, and it has also subjected me to mining the sorry excuse for a cookbook that is a Suzanne Somers collection, trying to find some redeeming quality.

So when I saw an article in the April issue of Gourmet singling out recent cookbooks that writer Cynthia Zarin believes have "staying power," I was of course interested. "It seems like a new cookbook is published every few minutes," Zarin writes. "Which of the most recent crop are destined to become classics?" And what, you may ask, makes a cookbook a classic? My definition of a classic cookbook is one that serves as a standard of excellence in its genre, that will endure and be pulled off the shelf for consultation for years to come.

Here's Zarin's list (in alphabetical order):

1. Arabesque: A Taste of Morocco, Turkey, and Lebanon by Claudia Roden
2. Baking: From My Home to Yours by Dorie Greenspan
3. Breakfast, Lunch, Tea by Rose Carrarini
4. The Improvisational Cook by Sally Schneider
5. In Search of Perfection by Heston Blumenthal
6. Kaiseki: The Exquisite Cuisine of Kyoto's Kikunoi Restaurant by Yoshihiro Murata
7. The Kitchen Diaries by Nigel Slater
8. The Lee Bros. Southern Cookbook by Matt and Ted Lee
9. The Soul of a New Cuisine: A Discovery of the Foods and Flavors of Africa by Marcus Samuelsson
10. Vegetable Harvest by Patricia Wells

I remember flipping through Samuelsson's book and mainly being struck by the vibrant colors and overall high quality of the book itself, though I can't say I ran home to try the recipe for Ethiopian bread (though I also must say I haven't seen too many gourmet African cookbooks, so I can see how this one could qualify for "classic" status). I heartily second Zarin's mentions of both Baking and The Lee Bros. Southern Cookbook. Greenspan's collection of desserts is fabulous; her almond biscotti came out wonderfully both times I made them, and the book is a pleasure to leaf through. The Lee brothers, meanwhile, have created a terrific volume on Southern cuisine. I learned tons from their book, not the least of which was how to make good old fashioned sweet tea.

Now, to the real reason I posted Zarin's list: so I could offer up my version of the most-likely-to become-classic recent cookbooks. Drumroll, please:

1. Baking: From My Home to Yours by Dorie Greenspan
2. The Best Recipes in the World by Mark Bittman
3. The Bon Appetit Cookbook by Barbara Fairchild
4. Bones: Recipes, History, and Lore by Jennifer McLagan
5. The Joy of Cooking by Irma S. Rombauer, Marion Rombauer Becker, and Ethan Becker
6. The Lee Bros. Southern Cookbook by Matt and Ted Lee
7. A Passion for Ice Cream by Emily Luchetti

There you have it, seven cookbooks recently published (I dug as far back as 2005) that I think will become classics. Fire away with your suggestions!--S

The Trinity, French-Style

My rendition of the classic throw-it-together French meal (soup, salad, quiche) went off without a hitch last night. No, it wasn't the most groundbreaking meal I've ever cooked, but it sure was delicious, and had my friends Darren, Patrick and Kate happy and full.

The soup was Potato-Leek, a recipe that I've been making for a few years that has become one of Fork's favorites. It's easy (made even easier by my new immersion blender, a Christmas stocking-stuffer from Fork). The recipe I use comes from Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything, or simply "Bittman," as Darren and Patrick like to call it. (As in, 'How to you make soft-boiled eggs?' 'Ask Bittman.' 'What cut of beef do you use for Beef Bourguignon?' 'I don't know; see what Bittman says.')

Second course was a salad of butter lettuce (aka Boston or Bibb) dressed in oil and vinegar, and Quiche Lorraine, from the new Joy of Cooking. Did you know that a classic Quiche Lorraine contains no cheese? Neither did I, but as that's not a rule I care not to abide (in general, I am pro-cheese), I threw in about 3/4 cup shredded Gruyere. My guests apparently approved of my improvisation: everyone took seconds, and left only a small wedge for Fork to eat the next morning.

For dessert, a Marble Pound Cake (again, Bittman). I had never attempted this recipe before, and I was a little nervous about how "marbled" the cake would be, since I had some trouble mixing the two batters of different consistencies. My attempts at "swirling" them seemed more like glomming one around the other. But my oven worked its magic. When I sliced into the cake, the chocolate had run through the middle, nicely surrounded by yellow pound cake. Delicious.

What's better than a simple Friday night supper with friends? Oh, and props to the French for the inspiration.--S