My friend Yvette plunked this book down on my lap recently and said – “just take a look at the photos and recipes in here.” The book is huge – one of those coffee-table sized books. But was she ever right about the stunning photos. I could have gazed at each picture for awhile, just to study the arrangement of flowers, chocolate, ribbons, table scapes, interesting props, etc. I’d never heard of the book. I did take a photo of one recipe, a Chocolate Apple Cobbler. It just sounded so different, although there isn’t anything particularly unusual in the recipe. I don’t associate apples and chocolate (pears yes, strawberries yes, apples no). I’ll have to try the recipe and see how it tastes.

Most of the chocolate recipes contained in the book were quite elaborate. Perhaps more steps and processes than I’m generally willing to do for a dessert. That’s probably why the cobbler was appealing since it may have been the simplest recipe contained in the book. So, here are a few photos from the book – all photographed by Thomas Dhellemes. The book: The Seven Sins of Chocolate, by Laurent Schott. If you’re interested, it’s available for under $10 used through Amazon.

A year ago: Cream of Cucumber Soup (a favorite – a chilled soup, really nice for summer)
Two years ago: Apricot Ice Cream (have fresh apricots?)

All the information here about green beans comes from one of the chapters in Russ Parsons’ book titled How to Pick a Peach.

What I learned:

• That cooks all around continue trying to find ways to keep green beans green. The chemistry involved is interesting: every green vegetable goes through three stages of green: (1) raw, the vegetable is a deep but dull green; (2) in the early stages of cooking the color turns bright and vibrant (this change occurs as the cell walls soften and tiny amounts of oxygen are driven off while other gases cloud the pure color of the chlorophyll); (3) the green turns to olive drab because of a chemical change in the chlorophyll – partly due to an enzymatic action, but mostly due to acids released during cooking.
• Some of the age-old methods for keeping beans green are myths (like using baking soda in the water – - makes the texture slimy, though; cooking in heavily salted water – - no scientific basis that that method works).
• The best method for keeping green beans green is to cook them in plenty of water (so less acids are released to each bean) - quickly – no slow heat-up here – the less time beans are in the water the better – cook just until they’re done to your liking – then plunge them into ice water. [This is the method I've used for about 15 or so years, I guess - probably learned it at a cooking class].
• Green beans we buy are actually immature beans – as a legume they grow for the seeds inside, which if left to mature, become nugget sized and the pods will toughen.
• There are two types of green beans – the round (Blue Lake and haricots verts), the more traditional green bean; the flat (like Italian Romano) are more meaty and assertive, and are cooked much longer. They even seem to improve with lengthier cooking.
• Green beans come in a variety of colors. So they really shouldn’t just be called “green” beans. The old term was “string beans,” but the strings were bred out of beans in recent years (except heirloom varieties). A more likely name is “snap beans.” If beans are fresh, they should snap (not just bend) in half.
• You should remove the stem end, but removing the tail-end is not necessary [I always leave them on because they're very tender and look better].

How to Choose & Store:

Green Beans with Garlic (a real favorite of ours)
Green Beans with Shallots & Balsamic Glaze

I’ll be doing some cookin’ in the kitchen later today, but no new recipes this morning. I still have plenty of recipes to post from my own collection, but I don’t have photos of them – - yet. Therefore, since it’s high season here for tomatoes, I’ll give you the low-down on them, with all the info coming from the book How to Pick a Peach, by Russ Parsons. This particular chapter has more chemistry-related content than most others I’ve shared with you. It may be a bit more scientific, but I found it very interesting.

What I Learned About Tomatoes

• Tomato flavor or lack thereof, is one of the biggest complaints in the produce world.
• Scientists who study flavor chemistry have identified more than 400 compounds that go into the taste of a ripe tomato. And more than 30 of those are regarded as essential (as low as one part per million). The human nose can detect some odors/flavors in parts per trillion. [Now that’s a statistic we foodies need to remember. Really.]
• Here are the four compounds found in greatest concentration in tomatoes: Z-3 hexenal – a fresh green fragrance (like cut grass); Beta-damascenone – generally described as fruity and sweet; Beta-ionone – fruity and woody; 3-methylbutanal – nutty-cocoa facets (it’s happens to be in Parmesan cheese)
• Flavor compounds present in a whole tomato change when the tomato is altered (cut).
• When a tomato turns from green to red, it’s caused by the development of coloring chemicals called carotenoids, which have flavor-causing chemicals attached to them.
• As a tomato ripens, the amount of sugars build
• As a tomato ripens, the acids change, from malic to citric
• As a tomato ripens, a whole host of aromatic chemical compounds are formed: hexanal (winey), alanine and leucine (meaty), and valine (fruity. Furaneol (pineapple aroma) is also created.
• Tomatoes can be picked green and will continue to ripen, especially if exposed to ethylene gas (that’s what nearly all tomato producers do).
• Even vine-ripened tomatoes (that we consumers pay a premium to buy) are picked at a stage that most of us would consider green, when only the very first traces of a tan, yellow or pink blush appear on the tomato’s base.
• The biggest challenge with tomatoes is to produce a fragile, temperamental product on an industrial scale. The same problem exists for nearly every agricultural producer.
• Unfortunately, taste has been the least of anyone’s concern in the industrial side of the business, and as a result, breeders have developed tomato strains that resist all manner of cankers and wilts and very little on flavor.
• Temperatures below 60 degrees F reduce the aroma-creating volatiles in the fruit.
• If you ever go to a grocery store and see tomatoes are being refrigerated, don’t buy them. (Industry experts are still trying to educate grocery stores in proper storage, and it’s not in the cooler.)
• Eighteen states grow tomatoes here in the U.S., with California and Florida leading the parade. But, a third of all sold here come from overseas (Mexico, Canada and the Netherlands primarily).

How to Choose and Store Tomatoes:

• Avoid tomatoes with any flaws – nicks, dents or cuts.
• Choose tomatoes that are heavy for their size.
• Other than looking at the color (more red than green) disregard color unless you’re going to eat it immediately.
• Over-ripeness can be just as much trouble as under-ripe. Over-ripe tomatoes are mealy with off flavors.
• Trust your nose.
• Do not EVER put a tomato in the refrigerator – it’ll kill flavor faster than anything.
• Do not store tomatoes in direct light.

Russ Parsons’ Favorite Simple Dish: Dice seeded (cut a tomato in half and squeeze gently to remove most seeds), unpeeled tomatoes as finely as you can. Dress them with a little olive oil, salt and freshly ground black pepper. Taste them, and if they need a little red wine vinegar, add that. Place a log of fresh goat cheese on a plate and spoon the tomatoes around it. Parsons says “you may never go back to tomatoes and fresh mozzarella.”

The book also included recipes for an Heirloom Tomato Tart, Golden Tomato Soup with Fennel, and Seared Scallops with Tomato Butter.

When I did a search within my own recipe collection posted here at TastingSpoons, my list was huge. But tomatoes may have played a very minor part of most of those recipes. Here are the ones where they played a starring role, or contribute some significant flavor: sorry to harp on the combination of watermelon and tomatoes, but here are the two I’ve posted about that, watermelon and tomato salad, and watermelon and Feta salad. Then there’s my favorite BLT Salad, Strawberry Gazpacho, Pasta ala Puttanesca, Bacon & Tomato Dunk (an appetizer), Creamy Tomato Soup (from canned tomatoes), Siciliana Sauce, and Pasta with Tomato Cream Sauce.

If you’re anything like I am, you take zucchini for granted. It’s available almost year ‘round, and it’s a very easy and quick go-to vegetable. Today’s post is another installment in my series about fruits and veggies, based on Russ Parsons’ book, How to Pick a Peach. I buy a lot of zucchini and yellow crookneck squash every month of the year. I avoid the baby squashes and scalloped squash because I think they’re bitter. The baby varieties are very bitter to me. The scalloped squash not as much.

What I Learned:

• Grown all over the world, zucchini and the other summer squashes account for 6 million TONS of product a year.
• Consumption of squash in general has increased 33% in the last decade! 40% of zucchini sold in the U.S. comes from Mexico.
• Zucchini is actually a fairly modern invention – the first mention of it is from a 1900 Italian seed catalog. It probably made its way to the U.S. after World War I, brought by Italian immigrants to California.
• There are drawings and paintings of a zucchini-like squash from prior to 1900, but they’re two other breeds of summer squash: Cocozelle, an Italian forebear of today’s common zucchini (Cocozelle are thinner and longer than zucchini with a small bulb at one end. They’re richer in flavor and are generally about 8-9 inches long); Marrow squash (paler/greener and tapered in shape, are denser, so work well/better in soups/stews).
• More than a hundred varieties of zucchini are grown today.
• Most commonly known squashes besides zucchini are crookneck (yellow, with narrow bent necks and bulbous bodies), straightneck squash (like crooknecks but with straight bodies), and scalloped squash, which can be either yellow or green and in a flattened shape with scalloped edges.
• Golden zucchini, introduced in 1973, is also becoming more popular. At some farmer’s markets you may find round varieties (Tondo and Provencal Ronde de Nice), but they’re not actually squash but a pumpkin variety.
• Don’t forget to try squash flowers – oh so delicate – must be eaten the same day – chopped up or battered, stuffed and fried.

How to Choose & Store:

• Choose firm squash, free of wrinkles and nicks.
• Really fresh squash will bristle with tiny hairs
• Cook them within a week.
• Seal in plastic bags to keep them moist but not wet.
• Do not wash until just before preparing them.

Recipes included in the book: Zucchini frittata, and Garlic-and-herb-stuffed tomatoes and zucchini.

Here are the zucchini recipes I’ve posted so far:
Ina Garten’s Zucchini Gratin - a real favorite
Shepherd’s Pie with a Latin Twist
Calabacitas con Crema - a real favorite
Adobe Stew - a delish winter soup, but with a bit of zucchini
Sopa de Calabacitas (Mexican Zucchini Soup)
Zucchini Ribbons
Chilled Zucchini Soup

This is another installment in my so-called series on fruits and veggies, all based on the book “How to Pick a Peach,” by Russ Parsons. Here in California, peaches and nectarines are in high season. And they are delicious this year, I must say.

What I Learned:

• Peaches and nectarines are nearly interchangeable (other than the obvious: the nectarine has no fuzz) from the consumer’s point of view.
• White-fleshed fruit is better and sweeter than the golden fleshed (yes, really).
• As consumers we seem to prefer red-toned skin of the fruit, but really the best P’s and N’s are those with a golden tone to the skin. The red is a breeding technique (a genetic variation actually) and doesn’t indicate anything; in fact, it hides whether the fruit is ripe or not.
• Parsons tells an interesting tale about a marketing experiment: A tasting panel was given two nectarines: one a fairly tasteless red variety, the other a great-tasting gold. Sitting around, tasting and talking about the fruit, the consumers unanimously agreed that the gold was a much better nectarine and that was the one they would buy. Then, on the way out the door, the panelists were offered boxes of nectarines as a thank you. One held the preferred golden fruit, the other the red. To a person, the consumers picked the red fruit to take home. Red sells.
• Growers have bred out peaches with the tiny beak at the bottom – it tends to break during packing and shipping, which can cause the entire case to rot.
• All nectarines are grown in California; peaches come from 28 states, but more than half from California.
• The greatest demand for white-fleshed fruit is from Asia – used to be that more than 80% of the fruit went to Taiwan. Not true any longer as we’re tending to recognize the value in the white-fleshed fruit.
• The difference between a nectarine and a peach is simply one gene. They’re so closely related, though, that sometimes peach seeds will sprout a nectarine tree. [Isn’t that amazing?]
• Nectarines are a slight bit more acidic with a lemony top note. Peaches tend to be muskier and richer in flavor.

How to Choose & Store:

• Remember, red doesn’t mean better. Choose from the background color – golden, not green. If it’s hung on the tree to near maturity, it should have a distinctive orange cast.
• If they are still firm, leave out on your counter until fully ripened, then refrigerate. Do not chill under-ripe fruit – it will turn mealy and dry.
• Don’t peel nectarines, but peaches should be peeled. Cut a shallow X in the blossom end, then blanch quickly in boiling water, then place in a bowl of ice water to stop the cooking. The skins should peel right off.

Parsons gives recipes for Peach Gelato, Nectarine-Cardamom Ice Cream plus Nectarines and Blackberries in Rose Geranium Syrup. But he mentions his favorite (no recipe), which is merely fresh peaches and shortbread.

- – - – - -

Or how about a peach shortcake? I had some buttermilk golden raisin scones in the freezer – I baked those, smeared on some Devon Cream (both of these items left over from the luncheon tea about a month ago) and sliced the peaches on top. And then I drizzled about a teaspoon of heavy cream over the top. My market doesn’t have any white-fleshed peaches (yet), but these yellows were just fabulous. I searched for the ones that had less red on the skin – they all were quite red, but I spotted a few with less red than others.

Here are the recipes I’ve posted so far for peaches or nectarines:

Southern Peach Cobbler

Peach-Raspberry Streusel Cake

In case you’re interested, the photo at the top was taken in my kitchen, but the nearly setting sun happened to be narrowly slotted right into my photo area. I re-arranged the peaches with that lovely warm highlight on the center of the bunch. Makes it almost look like they are luminous, doesn’t it?

If you’re a foodie, and have an interest in France (and French cooking), you’d likely enjoy reading Patricia & Walter Wells’ new memoir, We’ve Always Had Paris . . . and Provence: A Scrapbook of our Life in France. Now in their 60′s, the Wells have lead a charmed life, in my opinion. Not without a lot of hard work, however. They’ve now been there for over 30 years. Both from journalistic backgrounds (New York Times), they decided to take a risk and move to Paris. Their story doesn’t quite fit the romanticized vision of such a move – I assumed they lived high, in the toniest of digs. But, the reality was a small rented apartment, with minimal space and furniture. However, they managed that way for years and years. Meanwhile, Walter worked hard at the IHT (Int’l Herald Tribune) and Patricia was eventually hired by the New York Times to write a column about Paris/France from a food point of view. Both of them are “driven,” to keep working, to improve, to learn, to grow, but it’s all fueled by their utter love of life.

When exactly Patricia arrived on my foodie radar, I don’t recall, but it was a long time ago. She used to free lance articles in Gourmet, I believe, so I knew Patricia was linked to Paris somehow. I read her first Bistro Cooking cookbook, published after she’d lived in Paris for some years. Last year I bought Vegetable Harvest, a lovely book of every imaginable vegetable recipe. With this newest book, though, Patricia and Walter trade off telling the story of their lives, their jobs, learning French, cooking in their small Parisian apartment kitchen, their neighbors, the telephone system, and a lot about restaurants. The difference with them vs. us, the average joe, is that Patricia WAS on an expense account much of the time, so they were able to eat at some of the finest restaurants in that city, night after night, for free. I suppose, given those circumstances, when I might cook at home it would likely be simple food.

Eventually they bought an apartment and there were interesting tidbits about the renovation, which took nearly a year. Then they bought a farmhouse in Provence, and began going from one to the other place nearly every weekend. The Wells know/knew some very impressive people, (like Paul Bocuse, Joel Rubichon, Julia Child, even James Beard), but entertained them with relatively simple food when they visited in Provence. Patricia has a real willingness (and a competitive nature) to learn and make some very difficult food (more than I do, for sure). They raise a varied garden at their Provencal home. Eventually Patricia rented a Paris loft too and outfitted it as an office and cooking school. I’ve always thought it would be great fun to take a class from her. However, her Provence classes are $5,000 for 3 ½ days, not including lodging. Her entire cooking classes schedule for 2009 is full, as of this writing anyway.

With each chapter there are one or two recipes. Sometimes they were related to the chapter subject, or a recipe received from a local chef. The recipes are not particularly complicated except for the ones around foix gras. A few looked interesting: peach wine (homemade), dried cranberry and apricot bread, lemon chicken and scrambled eggs with black truffles. I didn’t buy the book for her recipes, though, but for the charming stories of their lives in France. They love it there and it shows. Highly recommended read.

I‘ve already posted the recipe for the Crumbled Asparagus (see link at bottom); I’m just using the photo as a way to introduce talking about asparagus. And by the way, I’ve had any number of people email me about how luscious this recipe is, in case  you haven’t tried it (see link at bottom).

This is the beginning of a series I’m going to write about fruits and vegetables. Most of the fact type information comes from Russ Parsons’ book titled How to Pick a Peach. I know, the season for asparagus is mostly over, but I wanted to start with it, since it’s probably my favorite vegetable. 80% of all asparagus in the U.S. is grown is California, mostly in the Sacramento – Stockton area (that’s about 75-100 miles east of San Francisco).

What I Learned:

• That a single asparagus plant produces both thinner and fatter stalks – the fatter ones toward the center (the first to grow) and the thinner ones around the outside of the same plant.
• That there are asparagus fanatics out there who swear their thinner, peeled ones are better than the fatter, that the best flavor is in the bases, plus those who just quibble over peeling or no. [Sometimes I do; sometimes I don't. If they're bigger ones, often I do. And just because you need to be reminded, don't ever put asparagus bases or peels in a garbage disposal.]
• In Parson’s opinion, buy big fat ones when you’re making a “vegetable statement.” When you want a big platter of them to be a significant part of the meal. If the asparagus will be used in another dish – say – in a risotto or pasta dish – then for the mixtures, use the thinner ones. The thinner ones are a little crisper and have a brighter color.
• As for white asparagus, we rarely see it here in the U.S. [It's far more common in Europe where we once saw a guard with a gun patrolling fields of them to prevent poaching.] In season, white asparagus – in Europe – looms large on menus in restaurants. They’re white because the stalks have never seen the light of day – they’re carefully covered over with soil to prevent the sun from reaching them, the sun would create chlorophyll, thus turning the asparagus green.
• That some people are actually interested in the aroma of their urine after eating asparagus. Even Marcel Proust credited asparagus with “transforming my chamber pot into a vase of aromatic perfume.” [Hmmm. Really? I must have missed that when I read Proust. Or else I thought "ew!"]
• After some research on the matter, scientists have determined that the unique odor in canned asparagus is caused by a chemical called methoxypryrazine, which incidentally, is also an aroma associated with Sauvignon Blanc. [Yes, really.]

How to Choose & Store:

• Check that the tips are tightly furled (whether fat or thin spears) – remember, this is a fern. The tips are the first part of the plant to break down after cutting.
• Check the bases – they should be moist. The best storage is sitting in a pan of water (so the bases can stay wet). Do the same when you get them home – sitting upright in a little water with a plastic bag over the top to create a moisture trap.

Recipes: In the book, Parsons included a recipe for Asparagus Wrapped in Crisp Prosciutto, Asparagus & Shrimp Risotto (and a 3-page in-depth explanation about how to make perfect risotto), and Asparagus with Sauce Mimosa. If and when I make any of these, I’ll post them. Here are my favorite asparagus recipes that I’ve posted:
Asparagus & Ham Frittata

Crumbled Asparagus

Roasted Asparagus with Chile Citrus Butter

It’s been six months or so ago that somebody, on another blog, mentioned Russ Parsons’ most recent book, “How to Pick a Peach:.” I always enjoy reading his columns in the Los Angeles Times, but hadn’t looked at the book. Visiting the library recently, it was there and I checked it out. This isn’t a memoir. It isn’t exactly a cookbook, either. It is, however, an excellent guide and history about the most popular/common of the produce we eat on a day-to-day basis. I really expected to be bored to tears. Wrong. I started reading at the beginning and read it all the way through.
Parsons has included recipes with every chapter, his favorites for that particular vegetable or fruit.

The history and story parts about each one are fascinating. Now, I’ll admit, this isn’t exactly like reading Robert Ludlum, but if you’re a foodie, and you enjoy choosing and EATING better tasting produce, you might want to read this book.

I don’t know about you, but I have a hard time – sometimes – choosing the best produce. Even celery, for goodness’ sake. What IS it with celery lately – seems like I keep choosing heads that are air and hollow within the stalks. Heavy with strings. Seems like more than ever. Even lettuce – every 3-4 heads I buy, once I cut into it, it’s got rust inside. And tomatoes. I adore tomatoes, but rarely do I buy anything except vine-ripened anymore, or the little tiny ones. And then there’s apricots. I’ve been so disappointed the last couple of summers with really poor tasting apricots – mealy flesh and not good to eat. Even peaches and nectarines are spotty at best. So, that’s why I picked up the book in the first place. I hoped to find answers. Only time will tell whether the advice is useful for shopping in a traditional grocery store. Farmers’ markets usually offer better choices and fresh ones too, but it’s not always convenient.

So after finishing the book I got to thinking about how I could possibly remember all the advice offered in the book. I can’t exactly carry the book around with me every time I shop. I thought about using a big yellow pad and writing down the crux of each one (refrigerate, not refrigerate, picking large vs. small, the coloring of fruits, why to buy one variety over another). You know, that kind of thing. But I realized this written thing was going to be quite long and detailed. Not something I’d haul around with me in my purse when I go to the grocery story or farmer’s market. What to do, what to do? I could put it into my Palm pilot which goes with me most places. That actually might work; I’d just have to navigate to that file and then find the right section describing the produce I’m pondering. And I may just do that. Or, I could try to write just the barest of details onto 3×5 cards that could live in my purse. I already carry around 3 such cards with slaps of paint on them with the wall colors in our home, so adding 2-3 more would not be a big deal.

So what did I do? Well, I haven’t written it up for my Palm yet, but I will. Nor have I written up the 3×5 cards, either. But first I went out and bought the paperback edition of this book so I can mark up the pages however I wish. There were 8-10 recipes in the book that I wanted to keep anyway of the 100 in the entire book.

What I did decide to do, though, is share some of the information with you. And in the process, I’ll synopsize each chapter with the shortest of details you and I will need to buy the best stuff. And I’ll include some of the interesting facts about the different fruits and vegetables in Parsons’ book. You’ll learn something, and I’ll maybe retain more of the information in my brain if I have to write it up! That’s my plan. I’ll need to take my camera with me to the grocery store next time to take photos of lots of different kinds of vegetables and fruits. Especially the summer fruits that we only see some months of the year anyway. So, stay tuned.

For many of you, who don’t reside in the U.S., the name Alice Waters may not hold much meaning. She’s been an icon of the foodie world for about 40 years, emanating from her ubiquitous restaurant, Chez Panisse, in Berkeley, California. 

Thomas McNamee has written a definitive biography of Alice Waters, and the history of the restaurant along with it, that gives interested readers a glimpse into the complete timeline and inner-workings of the famous restaurant and kitchen.

Alice Waters’ claim to fame, is her absolute dedication to using farm fresh (Slow Food) produce and products. She’s probably credited with bringing this movement to the U.S. long before anyone else was interested. After visiting France when she was newly graduated from college, and enjoying the fresh untainted bounty of the countryside, she and her then boyfriend, returned home to open a restaurant near her Alma Mater, University of California, Berkeley. Chez Panisse is literally about 10-15 blocks north of the campus, and has remained much the same as when it opened back in 1971. A 2-story stucco house, transformed into a very busy, very VERY busy restaurant. After reading the book, I’ll just say that it has morphed over the years, and Alice remains in some kind of role, still seeking out the “stage,” if you can call a restaurant as such.

Having eaten there twice, I’ll say that I enjoyed the food tremendously both times. But I didn’t realize the significant difference between eating upstairs vs. downstairs. Upstairs is the casual cafe, with a small, open kitchen, and an a la carte menu (where I’ve eaten both times). Downstairs is the more formal set menu dining room, where you eat what is placed in front of you. No choices except what wine you’d like to have (extra). The varied chefs (Jeremiah Towers, Mark Miller, and the current chef, Jean-Pierre Moulle) over the years, have made and remade the reputation, but with Alice’s touch, always. The notable chefs have ebbed and flowed. Some with fiery temperaments. Some who had to take a back seat to Alice’s name as chef, when in fact, she rarely cooks. Over the years she’s had to wield a frying pan many a night, but you learn that it’s not her strength. She’d rather be adding a sprig of chervil on the green beans, or glad-handing the guests in the dining room. She also had the wizardry of Lindsey Shere, certainly a well-known name now in pastry stardom. Alice gave Lindsey her own tiny shack on the property, little more than a lean-to, and it’s from there the famous Chez Panisse desserts emanated. Lindsey was given almost complete autonomy, as long as she abided by Alice’s desire for local and seasonal products, the freshest, etc.

The first time my DH and I had dinner there, Alice was present in the upstairs dining room. We actually sat in the next booth to where she’d joined a small family (Chez Panisse purveyors) who had come to the restaurant for the first time. Alice was making certain they were appreciated. And now having read the book, I’m certain Alice was spreading “the word,” her philosophy, about how the Slow Food movement was progressing and how important their contribution was.

What’s interesting is that over the 35+ years of its existence, Chez Panisse has only been making money for about the last 10. Alice has a vision, always, about everything in her life, but particularly the restaurant. Nothing could sway her from her goal of providing the very best, the most expensive, but the freshest seasonal ingredients. But her management style? She virtually has none. She always left and still leaves the supervision, guidance, firing, to underlings. She didn’t dirty her hands with the day to day management. She prides herself, however, on the feeling of “family” that exists to this day, amongst the staff. In the early years she accommodated everyone’s needs – for vacations, days off mostly whenever they said they needed it, breast feeding in between shifts in a back room, or loans when someone was in financial difficulty. Rather amazing in a way.

But the staff, for probably 30 of those years, took gross advantage of their positions. The waiters and waitresses comped food to lots of guests (their friends, or?), delivered wine to tables that never paid for it, which naturally, affected the bottom line every single night. And, it was commonplace that after a shift was over with, the staff would get roaring drunk (on highly expensive bottles of wine in the wine cellar, for which they didn’t pay), got high on drugs sometimes, and drinking on the job was almost encouraged. It took Alice’s father’s strong hand and arm some years ago to bring some kind of order to the chaos. And a modicum of profit to the books. There were many others who helped with this – not just her father – but for every step forward, she’d fall a half step back. However, she never faltered in her vision, and it would seem, she still maintains the vision.

It’s one thing to have an idea in your head about what you dream or see for a business. And it’s another to make it work and make it profitable. Alice has never seemed to have the guts to step up to the plate and make that happen. Making the restaurant profitable was not a goal for her. And part of that was laudable, actually, since she funded hefty profit sharing to the employees over the years, and always provided health care insurance for them when it was an unknown in the restaurant business.

According to the book, Alice is rarely in the restaurant anymore. She has finally left it (mostly) to the able hands of chefs and managers she’s finally recognized as good and reliable. Instead, she flits around the world promoting her myriad of sustainable food projects (including one at Yale University). Alice has a loyal following of friends, and because of her notoriety is sought out by more celebrities. She’s a particular fan of Bill Clinton. But Alice still lives in the tiny home near the restaurant (when she’s home), and drops in the restaurant to say hello to old friends and to taste a sauce.

It was an interesting read. More so because I’ve been to the restaurant more than once, and because I’ve known of Alice Waters since the 1980′s. Although I certainly gained an enormous respect for Alice Waters from reading the book, I’m left with a feeling of unfinished business somehow. How she managed to run a business all these years is beyond my ken. Really what happened is that it barely ran itself. It was close to bankruptcy several times. I guess I’m disappointed in Alice for that reason, that she couldn’t learn how to manage. Fortunately she has strong, talented help who now do know how to run a restaurant.

Where do I go from here? (1) next time I go to Chez Panisse, I’m planning ahead and definitely going to the downstairs restaurant. That’s where the haut food is, where innovation takes place; and (2) I’m going to do some research about Lindsey Shere. Next time I’m in a used bookstore I’m going to look for her 1994 Chez Panisse Desserts, which is still in print.

These aren’t all “new” books. Well, they’re all new to me. Some were received as Christmas gifts (the top four, all from my Amazon wish list) and the remaining ones I bought myself at a used bookstore in Placerville, California. Every time we go to Placerville to visit our daughter and family, I try to pop in to this great little shop called The Bookery on the old Goldrush-era main street. I always pause to pet the gray-haired dog who curls up on the dog bed near the front door, sometimes talk to the resident cat who lives on a shelf behind the cash register, then I make a beeline for the cookbook section. I’ve always been amazed at the quality of the books in this store – the cookbooks that is. For a small used bookstore, it’s always busy, and they have a convenient low stool in the cookbook area, which I use as I peruse the books.

Actually, my stack of books was higher than shown in the photo. Out in front of the store they had a table and a trolley heaped with Christmas books, all half off the marked price, which usually is 50% of the list price. It was the day before Christmas and they wanted to get rid of them! So I got those for 25% of the list price, the flyleaf price. There were some very cute books in that section, including some children’s books I’ll give to our newest grandson next year. They’ve been relegated to my Christmas stash way upstairs.

But, back to the bookstore. Sorry, I digress. This time I was there I was told, as I was checking out, that one of the owners (who wasn’t there) has a huge, I mean HUGE, cookbook collection. Numbering in the thousands, they told me. No WONDER the bookstore has a large cookbook collection. I suppose she passes on her discards to the store shelves. I wish I knew her. Maybe more of her discards would grace my shelves.

Although I already have a serious cookbook problem, as I’ve divulged here before. I already have bulging cookbook shelves. Now with these new books, I have no room. This stack, pictured above, is sitting on a piece of furniture at the moment in the kitchen/family room area. The Alice Waters biography has been removed and is sitting by my kitchen placemat. Always available for a little look-see if I have a spare moment while I’m eating a meal.

Two of the stack are novels (with one of those a food mystery). Actually both have disappeared to the upstairs library, where I keep all of my fiction. I have much more library storage in the upstairs office, where I spend several hours every day, mostly on my desktop computer. But for now, I’m enjoying just looking at this stack, getting ready for more pleasurable minutes of cookbook reading.