I was very excited to get this one when it was released and have made a few recipes from it since.
Another reviewer has already written how I feel aboI was very excited to get this one when it was released and have made a few recipes from it since.
Another reviewer has already written how I feel about it (unfortunately)... it's okay. We have a back-to-baseline easy weeknight meal, which is basically jarred spaghetti sauce, sometimes augmented with a couple garlic cloves and 1/2 a pound of meat, spaghetti, and steamed broccoli. I was excited for his recipe of rigatoni with broccoli and sausage, which I was imagining to be an elevated version of our go-to. And it is... kind of. I mean, sure, ricotta is always going to elevate a dish (one of those guaranteed improvements, like frying something or sprinkling some raw sugar on muffins before baking, etc), but honestly, all the recipe taught me was that I could spoon some ricotta on our regular, easier meal and be happier. His meal was good, but I won't make it again - wasn't worth all the extra effort for a slight improvement. I use this as a specific example, but I've made 4-5 other recipes with the exact same response afterwards - this was quite a bit of work and great (+$) ingredients, but it was just okay.
Just, I suppose, disappointed, ultimately. Not what I expected from my original perusal of the book and recipes. ...more
To be perfectly frank, writing a review for a book by Ottolenghi is perhaps only slightly less like writing a review for a book by Jamie Oliver or TanTo be perfectly frank, writing a review for a book by Ottolenghi is perhaps only slightly less like writing a review for a book by Jamie Oliver or Tana French. It's just exceedingly unlikely that I'm going to find any work by any of them to falter much. It's difficult to be even-handed.
But I'll do my best. :)
For over four years, I've been absolutely resolute on my follow-through with reading and posting any reviews for advanced reader's copies that I accept. Whether my review is a positive one, it only seems fair and appropriate that I give a response to the publisher's kindness in providing me a copy.
However, it's all completely disintegrated in the last six months or so. I have about a dozen books that I have utterly failed to read and review and are now long past their publication. There are multiple reasons for this, but the two most overwhelming are an incredibly long and incredibly hot summer, which was energy sapping and demoralizing (and hasn't this year in general been, anyway?), and second is that I accepted a new job.
But I return! I return for Ottolenghi. I was so incredibly excited to receive an advanced copy of his new book, Sweet. I'd be excited for any Ottolenghi, but this one is particularly in my wheelhouse, given that it is all about sweet things.
This book doesn't disappoint.
I have, in fact, already baked something from it, but it was in the midst of an already busy week and made for guests for a Wednesday (!) night dinner party, so I have no photographs of the cake or the guest who took one bite and instantly said, "Oh! Now tell me about THIS."
In classic Ottolenghi style, he and Goh are excellent at overwhelming the reader with gorgeous photography and equally if not more enticing recipes that marry often unique combinations of flavours (but don't read unique to be questionable or difficult-to-source).
It should be noted, however, that some of the recipes may both seem and be daunting to less experienced bakers. I'd categorize the Roma's Doughnuts with Saffron Custard Cream or the Mont Blanc Tarts here, for example. There are multiple steps including more fiddly things like frying or tempering chocolate, but it's a minor complaint because it is a book centered around sweets and baking so of course there's going to be some of this. One can be reassured that even in these more daunting recipes, they are excellent at providing details and specifications and even alternative ingredients or methods to guide and support. For example, they clearly LOVE mini-cakes, which frequently require speciality bakeware that can often be more difficult to source, require spending more money, and take up room in one's kitchen that be difficult to justify, being that they exist for ONE sort of creation. It makes sense that they like them because that's the sort of thing to sell in their bakeries/restaurants in London. However, in (almost) every single instance, they acknowledge all the above limitations and tell you how to adjust the recipe, as needed, if you choose to just make a full cake in your one regular cake pan or a muffin tin.
But the recipes that are more approachable certainly outweigh any that might give a moment of hesitation....
Orange and Star Anise Shortbread
Soft Gingerbread Tiles with Rum Butter Glaze
Lemon and Raspberry Cupcakes
Beet, Ginger, and Sour Cream Cake
Apple and Olive Oil Cake with Maple Frosting
Almond Butter Cake with Cardamom and Baked Plums
Rhubarb and Blueberry Galette
Walnut and Black Treacle Tarts with Crystallized Sage
Sticky Fig Pudding with Salted Caramel and Coconut Topping
Campari and Grapefruit Sorbet
If you love cheesecakes (not really my thing), you are going to be so happy with this. A disappointment for me is no chapter on yeasted things. I can certainly understand their decision not to court a Pandora's box by trying to restrict such a broad category to one chapter (and he mentions this briefly), but still.
Ottolenghi and Goh both have sections where they write about their partnership and what brought them to this point in their careers and in both instances, they mostly write about one another.
There's an extensive section of Baker's Tips & Notes, information that is often easy to gloss over in cookbooks but they keep the writing engaging and informative enough that it makes it easy to keep reading because of how many interesting tidbits and techniques one can learn.
Ottolenghi's section of writing, which opens the book, begins with a Sugar Manifesto. I was sorely tempted to recount almost all of it here but in the interest of brevity, here's just part of it:
"In the fickle world of food fads and fashions, Public Enemy No. 1 is constantly changing: eggs, fats, carbs - we are told to restrict our intake of them one year, and then to make them a major part of our diet the next. To those who do as they're told, it's all very confusing.
In the midst of this confusion, we try to stick with the simple rule of what you see is what you get. People will make responsible choices about what and how much to eat so long as they are not consuming things without realizing it - hidden sugars, hidden salts, hidden elements with names we can't even pronounce, let alone understand what they are. There is nothing wrong with treats, as long as we know what they are and enjoy them as such."
While I hesitate to concur with the statement that "people will make responsible choices about what and how much they eat so long as they are not consuming things without realizing it...", I do agree that there is nothing hidden here - everything is clearly a treat, and clearly meant to be moderated as one. I'm reminded of a Michael Pollan statement that I am certainly going to butcher so much that it's not even a quote, but it was about how we can eat things like french fries.... so long as it's something that we make ourselves. The effort that it takes to peel and prepare the fries and to fry them up is one that both reminds us of precisely what is in such a treat and also prohibits (most of) us from making and eating them every day (also, the act of making it at home gives us the opportunity to control what's going into the dish). It's precisely the same situation here, with all these astounding sweets.
Though I'm always innately attracted to London and England centered things, particularly if it's also food related, I try not to burden my already heaThough I'm always innately attracted to London and England centered things, particularly if it's also food related, I try not to burden my already heavy to-read and to-cook piles with too much; especially because, to be honest, I'd judge that the majority of them I've explored aren't always as great as they're presented.
But I'd just returned from London myself earlier this year when I saw Ten Speed Press/Penguin Random House offer an advanced copy and right there, in the synopsis, was the Sage and Cardamom Gin Cocktail I'd just experienced and loved at Ottolenghi's Nopi. If for nothing else, I thought, I could make that cocktail, see how it stacks up.
Crapanzano didn't just go around to top restaurants in London, asking them to give her their preferred recipes. She asked friends in London about their favourite places and dishes, resulting in a more intimate and cultivated collection. Because they are from restaurants in London, you do get a mixed bag of recipes that look approachable and others that look less friendly (but still delicious). Tucked in between the the recipes throughout the book are particular histories behind different, selected restaurants and also the (more recent) culinary history of London in general. Sometimes you just want a cookbook to have lots of delicious recipes without being too bogged down with text but there's a good balance here - never tipping over into too much, never more than I wanted to learn about a place.
I actually made a recipe, though I'm not posting a photograph due to the horrific lighting conditions and late hour. I made the Chicken Scaloppine with Mushrooms and Marsala which, in itself was a shocking choice. Chicken has never been my favourite meat (and is, in fact, typically my least favourite), I don't particularly like frying things on the stovetop, and I've never cooked with marsala - only briefly tasted it from some else's appetizer at a restaurant once. But the recipe looked imminently approachable, simple, and tasty.
And it was! The directions are brief but nothing more is needed. Only eight ingredients and that's even counting seasoning and a bit of parsley added at the end. I pulled it off rather well and the great dinner and leftovers instilled some trust for the recipes in the book.
A few other examples that I'm interested in trying:
And the Nopi cocktail I mentioned? That, I'm relieved that I wasn't too emotionally invested in. It's here, but it's definitely one of those recipes you must invest some time in (anyone who has made even a simple Ottolenghi recipe will not be surprised at this) and, in fact, it asks you to invest an entire 24-ounce bottle of gin to the endeavor. I'm not saying I won't try it one day, as the one I had in the basement of Nopi was fantastic, but it is a recipe that falls into that maybe-one-day category.
Fortunately, there are other recipes in The London Cookbook (released in the States on October 11th) that are more amenable to both the grocery and time budgets. ...more
A couple of weeks ago, I was lucky to spend an entire ten days in Seattle with some lovely creatures, a sun that woke me up around 4 every morning, anA couple of weeks ago, I was lucky to spend an entire ten days in Seattle with some lovely creatures, a sun that woke me up around 4 every morning, and a kitchen and seafood market at my disposal.
About fifteen months ago, I had the pleasure of lunch with my sister at The Whale Wins. It was my first Erickson restaurant and when I returned home I preordered her new cookbook, which came out last fall. Though I love the physical book itself and the recipes within I haven't made many yet in part because, being centered around the culinary offerings of Seattle, seafood features heavily.
Though I visit family and favourite places in Seattle on a fairly regular basis, I'm usually a guest in my family's home or I stay in a hotel, so I've never had the ability to create my own meals while there. This time I had a lovely kitchen all to myself and took full advantage. Timing was perfect for the morel season, one of my favourite treats.
Read the rest of my review (including a recipe!) at ...more
I'm much later than I like to be posting a review for which I received an advanced copy - one can scarcely consider it an advanced copy if I can't manI'm much later than I like to be posting a review for which I received an advanced copy - one can scarcely consider it an advanced copy if I can't manage to offer an opinion until almost a month after the publication date.
But it is because of my attraction to this memoir that my offering is so delayed. I went for several months without taking on any advanced review copies due to several factors. But then around the date it was released I was became attracted to this book and starting hearing some incredible things about it. I finally broke my fast and asked Penguin Random House to allow me the opportunity.
And my hedging was richly rewarded. Stir is just the loveliest of memoirs. Fechtor was 28 years old and training for a marathon when she collapsed on a hotel treadmill while at a conference. Taken to the hospital, she's happily ready to check out when she feels better within hours. But MRIs showed an aneurysm and she was in the unknowing time between the rupture and the subsequent attempt by the brain to heal... by reabsorbing the spilled blood, an incredibly painful process. Thus began her incredibly long, frustrating, frightening road to healing.
I can't even begin to adequately describe the horrors of the original insults and subsequent setbacks Fetchor went through and I would actually advise you against reading too much about this memoir or, especially, watching the book trailer video associated with it if you're interested in reading - just dive in. This is because much of my enjoyment of the memoir stemmed from those revelations and discoveries.
In addition to a fascinating experience and a recipe at the end of every chapter, Fechtor is also a fantastic writer. In her acknowledgements, she does mention a writing partner (Katrina Goldsaito) - a person not mentioned on the cover, so I wonder just how heavily involved she was or perhaps she was more of guide/editor. In any case, it was a combination of these factors including the writing that carried my through, happy and fascinated:
"Everything happens for a reason? I don't see it that way at all. To me, only the first part is clear: Everything happens. Then other things happen, and other things, still. Out of each of these moments, we make something. Any number of somethings, in fact. What becomes of our own actions becomes the 'reason.' It is no predestined thing. We may arrive where we are by way of a specific path - we can take just one at a time - but it's never the only one that could have lead to our destination. Nor does a single event, even a string of them, point decisively to a single landing spot. There are infinite possible versions of our lives. Meaning is not what happens, but what we do with what happens when it does."
Next Tuesday, April 21st is starting to feel portentous. It's the release date of the new cookbook by Tara O'Brady from Seven Spoons. Tara explains onNext Tuesday, April 21st is starting to feel portentous. It's the release date of the new cookbook by Tara O'Brady from Seven Spoons. Tara explains on the site that it's also her birthday. Guess who else's birthday it is? Besides the queen's real birthday? Mine! Very same date!
So with all this birthdaying, I thought I'd celebrate with the first rhubarb harvest from the garden and a cocktail from O'Brady.
Read the rest of my review (and a recipe!) at ...more
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