I’ve been reading instead of cooking

I can’t believe it’s been so long since I blogged on my blog! The official excuse is that I’ve been working full-time instead of part-time for the last month or so, but honestly, it’s just pure, unadulterated sloth. I haven’t even cooked anything interesting lately. I did, however, manage to smash the screen on my lil’ netbook and without so much internet to distract me, I’ve been reading more than usual. I just finished Anthony Bourdain’s newest book, so I thought I’d do a mini-review of it, along with a couple of other collections of food writing from my bookshelf.

First, Mr. Bourdain’s most recent effort, Medium Raw. I was, until fairly recently, a big fan, but I’m starting to get over the whole macho, hard-drinking, hard-living asshole chef schtick. To Tony’s credit, he seems to be getting over it, too. There’s a hell of a lot of self-deprecation here – he isn’t afraid to admit that he’s a bit of a jerk, a good-but-not-great chef, and a lucky bastard. I find him charming when he’s talking smack about himself. I adore him when he’s talking about his genuine love of food and food culture. I find him nearly unbearable when he insults and gossips about other cooks and food writers, which he spends about half of this book doing. The mean-boys stuff is interesting, in a car-wreck kind of way. It’s also, ultimately, a cheap trick, and he can do better. I’m glad I got this from the library instead of buying it because I don’t think I’ll want to read it again.

The other two books have been on my shelf for a while. Secret Ingredients – The New Yorker Book of Food and Drink is a collection of food writing from, you guessed it, The New Yorker. There is some amazing stuff in here . Dorothy Parker recreates a neurotic, bored, and tipsy dinner party guest’s slightly insane interior monologue (which is probably autobiographical, now that I think about it). Steve Martin imagines a couple of absurdist menus – one of which features a banana split with fried ice cream and cow fat, the other a salad of “dehumidified ocean air on a bed of fileted basil”. There are essays, histories, biographies, poems, cartoons, and short fiction pieces that attack the subject of food from every possible angle. I LOVE this book.

And finally, Remembrance of Things Paris – Sixty Years of Writing from Gourmet Magazine. I really miss Gourmet, and this book reminds me why. It pulls from the entire history of the magazine, beginning from its first issue in 1941. The writing from the years of deprivation during and just after the war are especially beautiful – wistful and gritty and hopeful all at the same time. There are stories about ordinary Parisians doing their ordinary shopping and eating in their ordinary cafes and there are stories about famous chefs making unbelievably decadent food for the creme de la creme of society. It’s a great read.