Original Publish Date: January 14, 2008
A Printable Feast
Book Review: The Joy of Feeding, by Ermine Rombauer
By Gertrude Spine
What conflict a cookbook presents to this reviewer! I have for many years resisted the pedestrian nature of culinary craft, perhaps out of some deep-seated desire to repress the bourgeois roots I work dutifully to denounce. Each week my desk takes on the additional weight of at least twenty new volumes, half of which I toss in the recycle bin because I have heretofore refused to review cookbooks, religious books, self-help, diet and exercise, and how-to manuals. I also firmly reject computer and business books. Some of you may wonder, Just what then does dear flaxen-haired, fine complexioned Gertrude read? Literature, you nincompoops! But alas, I am the fool for it turns out I have snubbed one of the finest traditions of our culture-the creation and recording of recipes so that they might live on for posterity. Were it not for the selfless souls of the cookery who engage in such practice, we would not have the slightest clue what to do for holiday meals.
And so I locked my office door one dreary afternoon last week and dug through the recycling, which I have not emptied for nearly three years, out of fear I might throw something useful away on accident. There it was, The Joy of Feeding by Ermine Rombauer. This new release of an old classic brought back memories of my mother's kitchen, for it was not home at the Spine house without a pot of broth on the stove and a loaf of bread in the oven. The sizeable book with its tough, cardboard binding took me back immediately to childhood, for my mother had the original book, too. I remember the days when my mother would wail out the backdoor, "Supper's ready!" and my sisters and I would run like the wind to the dinner table. Times were tough, though, and we would not have ever expected to find a tome such as The Joy of Feeding on the dinner table, and certainly not as a serving for one. With this great sense of appreciation in mind, I lifted the book to my nose and inhaled deeply, eyes closed. Ah! The smell of modern commercial binding! When I could not take it anymore, I bit into the book, cover and all, and nibbled sidelong through its pages.
The index! The glossary! Soups and Starters! Salads and Desserts! Meats and Seafood! Sauces and Gravies! A mélange of flavors, each of them exploding in my mouth! Pure delight! Only one experience might top that of indulging in this epicurean bliss, and that would be to work as one of the more than eight thousand recipe tasters who help pull this book together. Bon appétit!
