Joy of cookbooks
Thought I'd round up a few that tap into the pleasure of cooking. Plus a fava, mint and pecorino treat for spring.
Happy Friday, joyful cook!
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But that’s not all I’m joyful about. I’m joyful that it’s spring. I’m happy to be alive. I’m excited to be in the path of totality here in Dallas, Texas — even though clouds are forecast for Monday. (Fingers are crossed that it’ll be clear!)
I’m also joyful because I’m thinking about my favorite cookbooks, and how they make me feel when I’m cooking from them — or even paging through them.
Last month, I mentioned in passing, in a post about cookbook criticism, that there are cookbooks out there that give you a sense of what it actually feels like to cook their recipes, and also cookbooks that come with generous dollops of real pleasure on their pages. So I thought I’d round up a few books that, you know, spark joy. Or at least they do for me. Maybe they will for you as well.
For instance, I was remembering that when I reviewed the Via Carota cookbook, it was late November, I’d noted that some of the spring recipes looked wonderful, and I’d need to come back to them. I reached for the book and opened to this: a salad of young favas, radishes mint and fresh pecorino. It’s super simple. The book’s recipes work, so I know it’ll be great. Just looking at the recipe and photo and thinking about the ingredients in the context of this season puts me in a great mood.
But there’s also something about the way the recipe is written that makes using it more delightful. Many cookbook authors would call for 2 spring onions, thinly sliced, and mint and basil torn into large pieces. Instead, Jody Williams and Rita Sodi (perhaps with an assist from their co-author,
) make it a little more pleasurably experiential. Here are the recipe instructions in their entirety:“Thinly slice the spring onions and soak in cold water for a minute or two. Drain in a fine-mesh sieve and shake off the excess water. Toss the onion slices with the fava beans in a bowl. Tear the mint and basil into large pieces, leaving the smaller leaves whole.
“Add the olive oil and lemon juice to the bowl and toss lightly to coat the spring onions and fava beans. Crumble the cheese and toss with the radishes and herbs into the salad. Season with salt and pepper, and drizzle with the remaining dressing.”
The writing has the same light touch given to the salads in their restaurant. Reading the recipe, you can picture yourself going through the process, and it just sounds lovely. You can be sure this salad will be on my table this weekend, and I can already imagine how much I’m going to enjoy making it. The joy will probably begin when I stop into my favorite Lebanese market and find the fresh favas.
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