Elizabeth Schneider

As a beginning cook in the late sixties, I awaited the appearance of each book in this series as a child might await the next installment of a beloved fairytale collection. The text (in the distinctive voices of literary and culinary experts) and photos (in situ, instructive) opened up culinary landscapes worldwide. The well-tested authentic recipes (in handy little spiral-bound books) provided ample proof of the reality of these lands of enchantment.

Young and newly married, I cooked my way through this wholly reliable compendium of classics, from vegetables a la grecque to boeuf bourguignon to lemon souffle. Michael Field taught basic principles, techniques, and good taste through his careful step-by-step directions. With this cooking school as guide (complemented by Mastering the Art of French Cooking), I developed a love of small dinner parties that continues to the present.

Since 1978 this volume has answered more of my questions about seafood than any other. I have many books on seafood and many questions, but this is where I go most often (along with Alan Davidson’s North Atlantic Seafood).

This excellent basic guide to vegetables is as much about gardening as cooking--for those fortunate enough to be able to grow their own. For me, it was the first all-vegetable volume that planted the seed that grew into my own specialization in the plant kingdom. It treats admirably, alphabetically, and simply, a broad spectrum of vegetables, providing sound advice for the selection, storage, and cooking of common and some uncommon produce.

A long friendship with John brings this to mind, but what keeps it there is more. One can sense his deep historical knowledge and feel his years of experience gardening, fishing, and cooking in this unique Southern region. With warmth, verve, and erudition—and recipes to match--he tells the tale of a place, its people, and the meaning of what they cultivate and eat.

This big, beautiful book brought home to me the true meaning of "seed to table." Rosalind Creasy communicates the joys of edible landscaping through the colorful gardens that she designs, cultivates, photographs, writes about, and cooks from. Along with plans for themed gardens and sources for their creation, she profiles seedsmen, gardeners, and chefs nationwide (all of whom share recipes). Their stories led me to a network of interrelated growers and cooks who enriched the many articles I subsequently wrote about fruits, vegetables, and grains

I serve grains and greens almost every night. Although easy to prepare, grains are finicky about the way they’re cooked and will muck up without careful attention. For the best advice on how to cook just about every whole grain, I always turn to this useful and straightforward book. I have consulted it of late to remind myself how best to cook quinoa, teff, short-grain brown rice, green spelt, farro, and Chinese black rice.

I’m not a big dessert-fancier, but when there’s company, I often I turn to this truly comprehensive collection. As rich in lore as in technical advice, it is a pleasure to meander through its tales as well as its enormous repertoire of un-fussy recipes. Biscotti and cornmeal cakes are favorites, and I have sweet memories of enjoying both with Richard as he tested recipes in his New York City loft.

I choose this small gem to represent M.F.K. Fisher, whose graceful words have taught us about the deep meanings of food. Here are potions and philters to cure what ails you, balm for body and spirit. This poetic and touching “Garland of Odd and Old Receipts to Assuage the Ills of Man & Beast” accomplishes what it promises.

Although this book is brand-new to me, I can’t resist adding it. The recipes are so much to my taste that I don’t need to have tested them to be sure. McLagan’s use of unexpected techniques and surprising flavor combinations reveals the pleasures of bitterness as her knowledgeable voice instructs and charms.