Behind the scenes of a cookbook review

One dish in 'Claudia Roden's Mediterranean' is so good, I've made it three times. Another was excellent, and a third needs tweaking.

Happy Friday, happy cook!

I thought you might enjoy a peek into the process of recipe testing for a cookbook review. Especially because it previews a dish you may want to make this weekend — or soon.

As you may or may not know, I only review books for Cooks Without Borders (the website) that are favorable; the books I cover are all strong recommendations, even if I sometimes have exacting note or two. After decades of writing unflinchingly critical reviews — whether raves or pans or (more often) something in-between, and whether for cookbooks or restaurants — these days I’m only interested in celebrating great work, and spotlighting promising professionals. For cookbooks that means I feature titles I feel will enhance the quality of life of any cook who finds the particular subject appealing.

Still, most cookbooks are imperfect, and many recipes — even from outstanding authors — need adjustments, clarification or other tweaking. For instance, many recipes (including the one I’m about to rave about) are weirdly vague about salt — something it’s so important to get right.

Claudia Roden’s Mediterranean came out 18 months ago, in November, 2021, but somehow I missed the occasion of its publication, and only got my hands on the book in February. Flipping through its pages and pages of delicious-looking, super-accessible yet fresh and relevant recipes, I thought, wow, at 87 years old, Claudia Roden is at the top of her game (or at least she was when she published this book at age 85). How fabulous is that? Honestly, over the course of her impressive half-century-long career, her work has continued to evolve; her recipes become more and more vivid and deeply delicious. The realization led me to write an appreciation of her career in March.

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The first dish that caught my eye in Claudia Roden’s Mediterranean — Chicken Baked with Olives and Boiled Lemons — was inspired by “the sharp lemony flavors of one of the most famous Moroccan tagines.” Its aromas of garlic, turmeric and ginger remind Roden of the Place Djemaa el Fna market in Marrakesh. Roden pulls that all together in a hassle-free bake, what she calls “the kind of easy dish I make when I have many guests.”

I had to make it right away! It’s very saucy, garlicky and lusty, just perfect for serving with couscous, and ideal for entertaining, as you assemble it in a snap, then shove it in the oven and forget about it while it bakes for an hour.

The recipe as printed in the book serves 8, calling for 16 chicken thighs. Instead I made three-quarters of a recipe, using 12 thighs. We had two friends for dinner that Saturday night, and I was hoping for leftovers for Monday night. At the time, I knew I’d probably review the book, and should photograph the dish, but I didn’t want to take the focus off my friends and start styling and shooting — it would break up the flow of dinner. Plus it looked and smelled so great we really wanted to just dive in and eat it. If it was great, I’d make it again, for the review.

It was really good. Not impressive, or anything like that, just way better than it should have been considering how simple it is.

Two weeks later, I made the chicken again — for other friends. We started with a super easy appetizer: piquillo peppers (from a can) stuffed with good oil-packed tuna ventresca (from a jar), with a smear of homemade mayo on the plate (which I happened to have in the fridge). I tend to over-do things when I have friends over, and something this easy was so liberating — especially at a time when my day-job (restaurant consulting) has kept me insanely busy.

And then, last Friday night, I made the chicken a third time — for dear friends we’d invited over last-minute. I’d had a full workday before that, so whatever I served had to be simple. This time I cut the recipe in half (which in retrospect was silly — should have gone for the leftovers again!). I used whole chicken legs (which I cut into thighs and drumsticks). Once again I wanted to skip photographing the dish but, my friends insisted. Here’s the hastily shot half-order. It’s much saucier than it looks — the sauce didn’t show up well in the shot, as I didn’t haul out my lighting set-up.

Half-Recipe of C.R.’s Chicken with Olives and Boiled Lemon

Here’s how to do it — think of this as a recipe preview for a book I’ll soon review. I’m including a brilliant couscous hack that follows the chicken recipe in the book. If you have more than four people, go ahead and double the amounts.

First boil an organic lemon. (The book doesn’t specify organic, but that’s what I always buy, and in this case you’re eating the peel, where pesticides love to lurk.) Wash it, cover with water in a small pot, weigh it down with something so it stays submerged, and boil it gently for about 30 minutes, till it’s very soft. Drain, cut it up into pieces about 1/2 or 3/4 inch, and discard the seeds.

Heat the oven to 350. Grab a large bowl, and in it put the juice of a lemon, 3 tablespoons olive oil, 3/4 teaspoon each of turmeric and ground ginger, 2 teaspoons honey, 1/2 cup white wine, lots of chopped garlic (1/2 head, maybe 6 or 8 nice-sized cloves), 1 teaspoon salt and generous grindings of black pepper. Whisk to combine. Add 8 chicken thighs (or 4 thighs and 4 drumsticks), and turn them over a few times to coat them well.

Arrange the chicken in a baking dish or braiser, and tuck those boiled lemon pieces between them, along with 3/4 cup of green olives. (Roden calls for pitted ones; I’ve used Castelvetranos every time, sometimes pitted, sometimes not — all good.) Then add capers — about 1/3 cup drained, or a little more. (The full recipe calls for 3/4 cup.) Finally, pour the liquid from the chicken over all, and bake for 1 hour, till it’s well browned. Garnish it with half a bunch of roughly chopped cilantro.

If you want to serve it with couscous, you could either do that 5-minute-straight-from the box treatment, or try this hack for couscous that’s miraculously almost as good as the traditional steaming-three-times and spending hours couscous method. Start the couscous about 25 minutes before you want to serve the chicken. Put one box (10 oz/284 g) couscous in a baking dish, sprinkle with a cup and a half (354 ml) of warm water, stir it, and let it swell 10 minutes, stirring it once or twice more as it sits. (You can make any amount: just use an equal amount of water to couscous by volume, like 2 cups couscous/2 cups warm water). Then sprinkle 1 tablespoon olive oil over it, and rub the couscous between your hands to break up lumps and separate the grains. Cover with foil and put it in the oven below the chicken for the chicken’s last 10 or 15 minutes of cooking time. One box will be perfect for four people.

The couscous and chicken will be done at the same time. If you’re a chicken-eater, please try this and tell me how you like it! In case you’re wondering, we started with tabbouleh, which we scooped up with organic Little Gem leaves. (Perfect!)

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More review hits and misses so far

As for the nuts and bolts of the review-in-process, I’ve made two other dishes from the book, one very good (a pan-fried fish dish for two), and one needing major tweaks — muhamarra (walnut and roasted pepper dip).

First the muhamarra. It’s super easy, and I love muhamarra, so I was excited. Roden has you put everything in a food processor: a well drained 12-ounce jar of piquillo peppers, 3 1/2 ounces walnuts, a slice of whole-wheat bread (crusts removed), 2 crushed garlic cloves, 1 to 1 1/2 tablespoons pomegranate molasses, the juice of half a lemon, 3 to 4 tablespoons olive oil, 1 1/2 teaspoons of ground cumin, 1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon Aleppo pepper or piment d’Espelette and an unspecified amount of salt.

First, some help with the salt: 3/4 teaspoon is the amount it should call for. From there you can adjust up a bit to taste, if you like.

The instructions say to process the muhamarra to a “thick, coarse paste,” which you then spread in a shallow dish to serve.

Mine was not a thick paste; it was thinner and pourable — too much liquid. And too heavy on the pomegranate molasses flavor. I had tested the recipe using 1 1/2 tablespoons pomegranate molasses and 3 tablespoons olive oil (the two liquid measures with some leeway). Next time I’d try just 1 tablespoon olive oil (there’s a lot of liquid in the piquillos), and 1 tablespoon of the pomegranate molasses.

Probably instead of tweaking that recipe for the review, I’ll wind up researching muhamarra, looking at a whole lot of recipes and creating my own.

Pan-Fried Fish with Garlic, Vinegar and Aleppo Pepper, for Two

I’m always looking for dishes for two that are delicious, healthy and easy-to-put-together, and I love to make fish, so this recipe caught my eye. In her headnote, Roden wrote that in Spain (she has lived all over the Mediterranean), she would “eat a whole fish, cooked open like a book, a la espalda, in the pan, with this dressing,” adding that fillets work well for it.

The actual recipe calls for skin-on fillets — hake, bream or sea bass — and I didn’t find those. I did find skin-on red snapper, which would have been perfect, but it was more than $20 per pound — more than I wanted to spend. Instead I wound up buying two butterflied rainbow trouts, which would mimic Roden’s book-vibe.

I also found the recipe appealing because it was attached to a recipe for cannellini beans using a can (easy weeknight or last-minute fare!). And it gives instructions for a sheet-pan version to feed more than two —love that.

This recipe was perfect — no modifications needed; only (once again) unspecified amounts of salt.

How to make the fish

I inverted Roden’s instructions and made the beans first, as they can sit while you make the fish, then the sauce and finally the fish.

For the beans: Warm a tablespoon of olive oil over low heat; Roden calls for a skillet; I used a saucepan. Add about half an onion, chopped (she calls for a whole onion — that would have been a lot), and cook it, stirring frequently, for about 5 minutes, till it’s golden. Add a can of rinsed cannellinis, some salt (I haven’t measured yet — I’m going to guess it was about half a teaspoon), some fresh thyme leaves and just under 1/2 cup of water (7 tablespoons/100 ml), and cook it, covered for 5 minutes.

You’ll drizzle it with a little more olive oil before serving, but I just left it on top of the stove while I made the sauce for the fish. Roden has you make the fish and then the sauce, but I imagined the fish getting cold in the interim, so again I switched the order.

For the sauce, gently warm 3 tablespoons of olive oil in a small saucepan with lots of sliced garlic — 5 cloves — and a good pinch of Aleppo pepper. Cook it over low heat until the garlic is “only just lightly golden and crunchy.” (Don’t let it get brown.) Remove it from the heat, and stir in 3 teaspoons of Sherry vinegar. Roden calls for 2 to 3 tablespoons and offers white wine vinegar as an alternative, but I felt it needed all 3 for balance. I used a good aged Sherry vinegar because I love Sherry vin. I left that in the pan for a brief rewarm when the fish was ready.

Finally, make the fish. Roden calls for a nonstick pan, but I don’t have one (don’t like them, and I’m ambivalent about owning one — I should write more about that at some point!). So I used a little more olive oil than she called for. Season it generously (I added “generously!) with salt. Heat a tablespoon of oil (if you’re using nonstick), or a little more (if not) over medium-low heat. Add the fillets, skin-side down. Roden suggests pressing down with a spatula as the skin curls, but the skin did not curl on these. Cook until the skin is “crisp and lightly browned.” You’ll see them cooking through, almost to the top; watch carefully, as it can go quickly, depending on how thick the fillets are; the trout were three in about 3 minutes, but it might be as much as 5 (or I’m guessing longer, if it’s denser fish). “They’re done when the flesh flakes when you cut into the thickest part with a knife.” Turn them carefully and cook the flesh side for a few seconds more.

When the fish are nearly done, reheat the sauce and the beans, tasting the beans, adjusting the seasoning and adding a tablespoon or two of olive oil if you want (I forgot, but they’re were delicious).

To serve, spoon the beans on each of two plates. Next to them, place the fish, skin-side-down, and divide the sauce and garlic slices evenly over them. Garnish with chopped parsley. Our needed salt (there’s none in the sauce), so I added some Maldon salt on top — perfect.

Small point of honor: If I do wind up including the fish recipe in a review, I will try making it exactly as written, rather than assuming things like a whole onion is too much for one can of cannellinis. Maybe that much onion with beans is the best thing ever.

OK, hope you liked this review preview; I’d love feedback, if you’re so inclined. (Or even a “like” if you liked it!)

If you’re in the mood for conventionally formatted recipes (with printable versions), you’ll find plenty on the website proper. I’ll try to get the full review completed and posted there soon. In the meantime, here you’ll find all CWB’s cookbook reviews.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms out there, and anyone who’s lucky enough to have a mom! (I lost mine seven years ago.) As you read this, we’ll be in Southern California, paying a surprise Mother’s Day visit to our son, Wylie. So excited.

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See you next week!

Love,

Leslie