GASTRONORMOUS

Earlier this summer, I received an email asking if I would like to review this book. If I would, the publisher would send me a gratis copy. After reading the press release, I must admit I was intrigued, mostly because I had no idea what this book was. The press release takes pains to point out that this is not a cookbook–indeed, there is not a single recipe among its pages. But it also didn’t seem to be a book on technique (which might show me how to, e.g., properly debone a fish or sharpen a knife). Instead, the book was a collection of notes, a “primer” that offers “insights that will help anyone become a better cook.” Going on this vague information, I am not sure I would have paid for the book, but as they were sending one for free, I decided to indulge my curiosity.

It is a good looking little book, with a robin’s egg blue, white, and gray dust jacket. It is quite a slim volume at 143 pages, and would take mere hours to read if you wanted to just plow through it. But it really isn’t meant to be plowed through. The authors clearly intend it as a thoughtful little tome meant to make you pause and reflect on not just the way you do (or should) cook, but why you cook.

The first six chapters are full of some basic suggestions about what one should and shouldn’t do as a cook. The pithy bits of information range from common sense (read the recipe before you start cooking) to good sense (read at least three other recipes for the same dish to get a sense what variations on the recipe might be) to uncommonly good sense (use the highest quality [but not necessarily most expensive] ingredients you can. This produced perhaps my favorite phrase from the book: “Garbage in, garbage out.” Awesome!). There are some BS-y mantras thrown in for good measure (”The cook’s first job is to delight” or how about “Feel the sounds. Taste the smells [n.b. shouldn't that be "aromas," anyway?]. Touch the flavors.” Sounds like The Who song as covered by tribute band The Who’s Hungry). The book excels where it offers true advice, but it doesn’t where it offers words without value–e.g., I don’t need a book to tell me what constitutes a compliment on my cooking.

Chapter 7 is where the serious learnin’ begins. The notes on how to best implement heat and cold when cooking, and advice on the use of different categories of ingredients (pantry items, meat, stocks, dairy, etc.) are for the most part quite valuable. One of the most important notes opens up the “Pantry” section on p. 51: “Don’t fear salt.” Hallelujah! Under-salting is the most widespread offense among cooks, I do believe. Over-salting may be the more serious crime in that it is harder to correct, but under-salting is much more pervasive and insidious, leading to many more disappointing meals. An interesting exception to the salting rule, according to this book, is stock, to which apparently one should never add salt (or pepper). Someone should alert Swansons. I had never heard this before, but it makes sense. Since stock is one ingredient in a larger dish, a salted stock risks over seasoning the final result.

There are interesting little tidbits of information to improve your kitchen skills, along with some basic information that you probably already do, or should, know, scattered throughout the rest of the book. I eagerly anticipated getting to the “Repairing Food” section–who hasn’t disastrously over salted a stew or broken a sauce, and not known what to do to rescue it? This chapter, though, was disappointingly brief. Their repairs for acidic, spicy, or bitter food are helpful, but the repair for over-saltiness was a letdown. For something liquidy, the suggestion is to add more liquid. But of course that affects the consistency, and also dilutes the other flavors of the dish, so it is not really an ideal option. My mom always said that adding a potato to such a dish helps absorb some of the salt, but I have never tried this out myself. There are endless things that can go wrong in the kitchen, and this book couldn’t possibly address them all, but it would have been nice to have a bit fuller coverage in this chapter.

There are three appendices following the afterword. The first is a list of food adjectives, which is very helpful to food bloggers(!), though perhaps not many others. The second is a list of “Classic Combinations,” which is also of limited usefulness, mostly because of its organization: “duck & orange; orange & fennel; fennel & arugula….” Maybe if the ingredients were listed alphabetically, and say I had a Japanese eggplant and didn’t know what to pair it with (miso, btw), then I could look alphabetically under “J” to find the authors’ suggestion. As it is, though, I am just not clear on what the practical use of this is. The last appendix, however, is very helpful indeed. It is a list of the most essential tools needed in the kitchen. I feel like a bit of a sham now for not owning a proper saute pan or thermometer (I know!), and for not having cheesecloth on hand. But the list is something to aspire to, and not so lengthy that it seems unattainable. The book ends with an annotated list of recommended reading, which is also very helpful.

Overall, I would definitely recommend this book as a gift for that foodie friend who has everything and is impossible to buy for.  It is an attractive volume, perfect for gifting. Your foodie will enjoy the quick read, and probably refer back to some of the more helpful advice in the book again (there is an index, which will help guide said foodie). I wouldn’t call this book indispensable, but it is a quick, enjoyable read that will likely teach you something to improve your game in the kitchen.

Lauren Braun Costello and Russell Reich, Notes on Cooking: A Short Guide to an Essential Craft (New York: RCR Creative Press) 2009. [$21.95 from the publisher or $14.95 from amazon.com]