Pan & Ink aspires to good cooking, honest writing, and thoughtful reading, all the while attempting to comprehend and celebrate the fascinating experience of living an absolutely ordinary life. Please make yourself at home, stay a spell, and, if you must go away, don't be a stranger.
"But for strength, both of the body and of the spirit, I turn without hesitation to the simplest cooks..."
- M. F. K. Fisher
"People who love to eat are always the best people." - Julia Child
"The growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts." - George Eliot
"No subject is fuller of implications than the mundane." - Eudora Welty
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Currently Reading
A Spoonful of Promises/ T. Susan Chang's memoir follows the form of so many food-themed books these days: a collection of loosely-connected essays, each one ending with a recipe. Her reflections center on family, both the one she grew up in and the one she now looks after while simultaneously writing engaging articles and essays and reviewing cookbooks for NPR. Recipes are written with simplicity and compassion for cooks of all skill levels.
An Everlasting Meal / A flurry of recent press alerted me to this book by Tamar Adler, who spent time writing at Harper's and then went on to cook at several highly acclaimed restaurants. (She now writes and works on a food-related project for NYC public schools.) Adler's combination of eloquence and kitchen expertise results in a primer on basic cooking that is highly readable, useful, and thought-provoking. Her premise that good ingredients need only simple cooking has got me re-examining things like eggs and cauliflower, and her suggestions for ways to use all that we buy are welcome and refreshing.
Other Books to Check Out...or Not
Rachel Cusk/I have recently re-acquainted myself with Cusk, a British author, who writes, among other things, about motherhood. Her novel Arlington Park is a dark, penetrating portrait of stay-at-home moms living in a posh London suburb. Readers apparently are quite divided on Cusk. Some find her too dark, too harsh; I find her writing to be honest, funny, and often beautiful in its explorations of human psychology.The relationship of women to food and kitchens is one among many subjects she treats with a clever, piercing touch. As Always, Julia: The Letters of Julia Child and Avis DeVoto / Why am I so captivated by this book? I find myself asking this question often while reading this collection of letters in which Child and DeVoto exchange opinions about politics, travel, literature, knives, sauces, and more. They also talk about Julia's incipient culinary classic and bestseller, which DeVoto will be instrumental in seeing published. Aside from the many interesting reflections offered by two highly intelligent women on food and culture, what makes the book so compelling is the feeling of being there at the beginning. Child doesn't yet know that she will become world-famous, but we do. And then there is Child herself: charming, convivial, exuberant, and incredibly meticulous--the qualities, of course, that made Mastering the Art of French Cooking so successful. All in all, she is hard to resist, in any form.
The Art of Eating / I have just dipped a toe into the ocean that is this 700-page collection of works by M.F.K. Fisher, but I am reminded already of why her writing is beloved by foodies and non-foodies alike. A typically lush passage, on memories of her grandmother's annual canning operation: "...the hot kitchen sent out tantalizing clouds, and the fruit on the porch lay rotting in its crates, or...in fair glowing piles upon the juice-stained tables. Grandmother, saving always, stood like a sacrificial priestess in the steam, 'skimming' into a thick white saucer, and I, sometimes permitted and more often not, put my finger into the cooling froth and licked it. Warm and sweet and odorous. I loved it, then."
A Dirty Life / Kristin Kimball abandoned her life as an urban hipster shortly after meeting her future husband, Mark, a rugged, visionary, mostly-barefoot farmer. Her memoir details the couple's quest to establish a "whole diet" CSA on a long-neglected piece of Upstate New York farmland. Kimball reveals the difficulties and pleasures of farming in vivid, fascinating, and sometimes gruesome detail. Her version of farm life is far from idyllic, but amid the manure, escaped livestock, aching muscles, rats, and so much more--not to mention tremendous financial pressure--she discovers an unexpected haven in, as she puts it, "the peace you can find inside an infinite challenge."
Lunch in Paris / My (pesky) inner literary snob wasinitially dubious about this best-selling memoir. I should have trusted my wise mother-in-law, however, who knew just what I needed this summer: a light-hearted, confessional tale of finding love and making a home in France. Elizabeth Bard's book is dotted with simple, interesting recipes, several of which are dog-eared for a try-out some day soon.
Climbing the Mango Trees / My favorite parts of Madhur Jaffrey's memoir of her childhood in Delhi, India, deal with the massive picnics her family (assisted by a team of servants) would regularly orchestrate in beautiful mountain or river-side locations. Jaffrey conveys both the child's delight at the magic of outdoor eating with an adult's appreciation for the work and the culinary skill behind such an event. Her family took food and its enjoyment seriously--not a bad way to live. Cookbook Round-Up /Christmas 2010 brought several new cookbooks into my life, some of them so thoughtfully written and well designed that I found myself taking them to bed at night and savoring them like novels. Seeking culinary inspiration for 2011? Check out My Sweet Mexico by Fany Gerson, Flour by Joanne Chang, Fast, Fresh, & Green by Susie Middleton, and Around My French Table by Dorie Greenspan. Toast / Poignant and at times heartbreaking, this powerful memoir by Observer food columnist Nigel Slater documents the evolution of a foodie. Discerning from a young age, Slater recaptures in vivid detail the foods of his childhood--and the (mostly) painful moments to which they bore witness.
My Life in France / In this lovingly told memoir, Julia Child revels in the pleasures of exploring her adopted French home with its attendant cuisine, landscape, and culture. How inspiring it is to remember that there was a time when she, too, was a bumbling, lowly home cook. How did Child get to be one of the best? Curiosity, passion, and practice. Home Cooking: A Writer in the Kitchen / Essayist Laurie Colwin on the disasters and triumphs of cooking for herself and others. Writing in the 1980s, she seems provincial at times ("beef tea"?) and surprisingly prescient at others (on organic and local foods, for example). Her writing is witty, her advice is practical, and her recipes are homey and thoroughly do-able. Between Meals: An Appetite for Paris / The late New Yorker writer A. J. Liebling tells of his gastronomic education between the wars in Paris. He draws his characters in vivid, amusing detail. I find his justification for gluttony quite handy, too: "The primary requisite for writing well about food is a good appetite." I guess I'd better get eating. A Homemade Life / A memoir by Molly Wizenberg, author of the blog Orangette. Wizenberg's vignettes are funny, poignant, and genuine. Good-looking recipes abound, and I can enthusiastically vouch for one: an almost-flourless chocolate cake that she served at her wedding.
A Stew or a Story / A collection of short pieces written by M.F.K. Fisher, edited by Joan Reardon. Fisher is witty, warm, and insightful. Each essay makes me think in new ways about cooking for myself and others.
Spoon Fed/ A memoir by New York Times food writer Kim Severson. See my review here. Or, if you want the short version: I'd say, Skip it.
