Ars Coquinaria

2 More Resolutions

And then I'm done, I swear:

1. Better posture. (I do this every year. Every year it is literally sorely needed.)
2. Learn to cook more Asian food. Specifically, and I need suggestions here, people:

• Chinese, particularly street food.
• Japanese, particularly soup.
• Vietnamese.

New Year's Resolutions

I have started two posts since I got back from Christmas, one of which got ranty and bitter in an unproductive way, and thus was trashed, and one of which was basically about how I have no understanding of food science. In the spirit of the New Year, some (food) resolutions:

1. Develop a working knowledge of food science and nutrition before I go to grad school. Start with McGee and then move on to This. Internalize the knowledge. Write quizzes and then take them. Make flashcards. Ask the brilliant food scientists I know for help if I don't understand something.

2. Eat breakfast.

3. Don't let my real job get to me to the point that I don't have the energy to come home and work on my career.

4. Come home from work and work on my career. This involves: applying to grad school (again), writing a least one essay for Ars Coquinaria per week, and finding freelance opportunities. It also involves #1.

5. Leave Texas in 2009.

These Are a Few of My Annoying Things

I never understood why that song is somehow a Christmas song, but if the shoe fits.

I realize I have abandoned you somewhat, my cookbook-reading public. I am very sorry. This whole economy thing is crappy and makes me want to drink beer instead of read cookbooks. So, while this is lame, in no particular order, here are things that are annoying me today:

The Burger King perfume, the fact that I don't have Nach Waxman's job, the fact that Serious Eats keeps trying to blame bacon on hipsters instead of themselves, Mark Bittman making vanilla meringues when everyone knows there are WAY better flavors for merinques and it's kind of a waste to only flavor them with vanilla, the story on failing catering companies I heard on NPR the other day, New York-centric food blogs that I have to read even though I will probably never eat in any of the restaurants, that dude who recreated the Keller/Achatz meal, the fact that food media is either really bitchy or sugary sweet pablum, our water supplier who refuses to answer his phone or call me back even though I want to give him money in exchange for goods, the fact that I have zero time to finish my Christmas presents, the fact that I can't take a nap right now, the fact that I have to work between Christmas and New Year's, the fact that the only food I have at my house is 700K tamales.

The end.

The Case for Cookbooks

Ah, Twitter, you annoying, blessed little tool. Found this article from Time via Simply Recipes and decided it was time to sort out why, exactly, this sort of article makes me roll my eyes dismissively.

I am declaring it now, and will sadly but readily hang my head in shame if disproved eventually: cookbooks will never go away, so quit trying to prove that they will.

Here's why.

1. Cookbooks, more so than other books, are fetishized. Look up "recipe" on flickr and see how many of them are scans of stained and tattered cookbooks with Grandma's old fashioned scribble in the margins. Go read the food blogs and notice that almost every single one has a post on the author's pride in their massive collection. I myself have a library taking up an entire corner of my kitchen, floor to ceiling. I hoard them; we hoard them. The big fancy chef cookbooks, like the big three this holiday season, are status items. They glow on the shelf and beg to be fondled, shown off at dinner parties.

2. Cooking is an alchemical, ritualistic process. I do a lot of thinking about the ways in which cookbooks are technical writing. Don't roll your eyes, technical writing isn't just computer manuals. It's fascinating. Technical writing is the only type of verbal writing* I can think of that doesn't merely aim to get the reader to recognize the emotions of a situation, or visualize them, it aims allow someone to recreate an identical situation. This is incredible, if you think about the audacity of the proposal inherent within recipes.

So, that established, part of the ritual of cooking, part of the recreation, is pulling that smudged and torn cookbook off the shelf, just like you grandparents did. Open it up, pour over its contents like a wizard looking for a spell. It's not the same if you're using a handheld gaming device or an iphone. I have two copies of Mastering the Art of French cooking: one belonged to my Grandmother, and one I bought in college before I knew the other one existed. Guess which one I use?

3. The alternatives are crap. Have you ever tried to organize 700 food-gross printouts from Epicurious? I have. It took me a week. And it smelled really bad. The great thing about cookbooks is that when you find a good one, you trust all the recipes. I know that every single pie in The Joy of Cooking will be the best version of that pie I will ever have. I don't trust Epicurious in the same way. The best recipe collection method I have ever heard of is from Alton Brown. He owns cookbooks, but doesn't cook with them. He makes a photocopy of each recipe, and takes notes on it while he's cooking. Then it goes in a protective slipcover and into a binder by type of food. If it stinks, it goes into the recycling. Simple, beautiful, and doesn't involve me having to replace an expensive electronic device everytime the bolognese gets all over everything or the cat knocks a pitcher of creme brulee custard onto the counter. I just find the cookbook, make another copy. Et voila.

*Musical notation does the same thing. I don't quite want to put plays or screenplays into this category--I don't care how dedicated you are to your craft, acting is still a metaphor for reality.

WRONG.

I don't usually talk about restaurants or Texas on Ars Coquinaria, but at the moment I am filled with RAGE in response to a survey so I feel that emotion is acceptable because my foes are anonymous and are speaking for the public consensus.  To be clear, and to correct the error prancing about as truth on Addie Broyles' fantastic Austin 360 food blog, the top 3 Chinese restaurants in Austin*, in order, are:

1. Din Ho
2. T&S Seafood
3. China Palace
*I have heard good things about Asian Market but have never been.

Shut up, Austin.

*This city by and large has horrible excuses for Asian food.

Oh, You Pretty Things

Couple things:

1. This is hilarious, even if you don't know the NY food scene.
2. Last year I did this huge holiday wish list series on Gastronobooks, and I think that's boring. NYT has done a roundup of roundups so none of the rest of us need bother with it. Hooray!
3. Thanksgiving is gloriously, exhaustively, ludicrously over. Here's my menu packet anyway: Download Thanksgiving 2008. The Gingerbread Bisque is fantastic, and from Ideas in Food. The Oh Henry is from Married with Dinner and is similarly fantastic. The Chex Mix is Michael Bauer's recipe. The rest came from various places, but mostly from Emeril. Sorry, food jerks.

I Call Bias

This is horseshit. There is no way that Jeffrey Steingarten actually thinks that Alinea is better lookin' than The Big Fat Duck Cookbook. No way. I've reviewed both, and while I have mixed opinions of both--and even like Alinea more overall--BFD is hands down the most beautiful book I have ever seen in my life. Period. You want to disagree, I'm going to need supporting evidence.

Update: I wrote this up on EMD.

Excitement!

Mystery: solved!

I wrote a review for Eat Me Daily of Heston Blumenthal's Big Fat Duck Cookbook. Hope you like it!

(And if you're coming here from EMD, hi! Thanks for stopping by. Grab a beer and my RSS feed while you're here. Cheers.)