Cookbook Survivor: Alice Waters, Chez Panisse The Menu Cookbook
Saturday's Child Works Hard for a Living
I know what you are thinking. This is like a Baptist saying they’re trying to decide whether to get rid of their copy of the Holy Bible. (Though for all that some American evangelicals actually pay attention to the content of scripture these days, some of them might as well toss their copies out in the garbage, because it’s not doing them any good to have them.)
Anyway, as I was saying, what the holy hell am I doing putting this cookbook to the test? Well, from time to time, I’m going to do books that have immunity just for the fun of it, but this isn’t quite what’s going on here.
What’s going on in this case is that this cookbook is a very recent arrival in my house due to a much-appreciated donation of old cookbooks from a family member occasioned by this column. I have actually never owned this cookbook before. Despite having eaten at the restaurant a few times. Despite having read about its history. Despite having spent most of my life loving the cuisine that Alice Waters played a central role in creating. Despite having owned numerous other cookbooks that were plainly strongly influenced by this classic.
So I have to say that I opened the real thing with some trepidation. I was almost afraid I’d find it fussy and old-fashioned, something I kept for the keepsake value but wasn’t going to use.
Honestly, though? It’s a great cookbook and still incredibly viable to work from. First off, I just love the way it’s organized. If you’ve been reading these, you know that’s a major issue for me. Waters covers all the bases here: there’s a seasonal section, there’s a section of “special occasion” meals, there’s a technique-based section on grilling, there’s “inspirations”, and there’s a casual section. Most of the book links a few dishes together in a suggested menu but it’s easy to mix-and-match as well. I was genuinely surprised at how much of the book I wanted to cook and how little of it felt like I was reading the pre-history of a cliche. In fact, it’s interesting to see how many recipes in here didn’t become trendy or widely imitated as such.
It is also, however, a book that really drives home how much Waters and a few other contemporaries changed what food you could buy in major metropolitan communities.
For tonight, I’ve decided on a menu in the grilling section—it’s a wet and gloomy morning here, but I think it’ll be ok to grill later today and in fall I really love being outside if I can. I’m going to make a vegetable ragout (basically a variation on ratatouille), some homemade ravioli in a fish broth, and some grilled duck. I’ve only run into two difficulties—the first is that the ravioli is supposed to be filled with salt cod, but they didn’t have it at the market I went to yesterday (“only seasonal”, the guy at the fish counter said) and I didn’t have time to go to the fishmonger in addition to the market. Now it’s too late—the salt cod would have to soak for at least a day. (Waters has it soaking and having its water changed for two days, which I think is excessive.) It’s ok, because I have some nice smoked salmon that needs using, so that’s what I’ll do instead. The second is that the duck recipe calls for chestnuts, and those really are seasonal. (I also happen to seriously hate working with unpeeled raw chestnuts, they’re a major hassle.) I might peek in one nearby market mid-day nearby to see if they’ve got chestnut puree or those chestnuts-in-a-jar but I am doubtful. They’re hard to substitute but I might try using some pecans if it comes to that.
So yes, there’s not much suspense here about the cookbook surviving, but check in later anyway to see how it went.
Ah, Alice. One of the most memorable meals I ever had was at Chez Panisse—an epic lunch that lasted hours, with great wines and the best conversation. This was John’s temple. We ate there again, separately and together, but nothing ever quite equaled that first, grand experience. Maybe it was the company. Maybe it was the wine. But I think it was really the food, making everything else so special. Thanks for the memory…