Have you read this book?
{Twelve Recipes by Cal Peternell}
I know that’s not typically a question asked of a cookbook…
But I have to ask because here’s the thing: it’s pretty funny.
Not so much Laugh Out Loud funny, but sustained baseline chuckle funny, which is often exactly what I’m in the mood for.
I heard about it on NPR…no recollection of the show, but fairly recently, and it sounded so enticing. Here is my honest and unbiased review:
Positives: quick wit, sly humor, family stories without going into way too much detail, excellent instructional speak.
I felt like I was in a lecture with a great teacher who knew just how to hold my attention.
The recipes are totally attainable.
Things to improve on: I thought I would get more from it…so either I’m beyond this level of cooking or it’s very rudimentary.
I didn’t expect to pick up a cookbook and feel competent in its techniques {or my way of doing basically the same thing,} but that’s pretty much what happened. {Does this mean I’m all grows up?}
So while I will remember this read with fond memories—I’ve passed the stage for it. And here comes the very big BUT:
It’s definitely getting added to the rotation of wedding presents for former students.
Because maybe I should have taken a clue from one of the first pages:
“Once you’ve cooked something a dozen times, a written recipe becomes unnecessary. Until then, it is good to have a reference, a cookbook for not just getting by but for really feeding yourself: a meal manual for my sons leaving home, and all sons and daughters, to learn to cook and eat simply and well, with pleasure and good health.” (p. 4)
Sometimes Bitty E says something that makes me realize I will turn around and send her to college in approximately four hours.
“Mom, I love this song.”
I would send her with this book.
I would have poured over this book as a newlywed. I would have slept with it under my pillow. David would have said it’s me or the cookbook. So if you need a wedding present this summer and want to avoid the line at Pottery Barn: here ya go.
