The Balthazar CookBook
By Keith McNally, Riad Nasr & Lee Hanson
The Good: Every French bistro staple you can think of. There are 23 Les Poissons (fish) recipes alone.
The Bad: Not the best choice for a novice.
And the Ugly: Poor poor French Apple Tart. I threw out the puff pastry box without knowing what temperature to bake you for the book did not say.
The Grade: A
I remember the first time I saw this book sitting on the shelf. My friend and shopping companion, Svetlana, a foodie and wannabe chef, proclaimed in her thick Russian accent, "That book is too hard for you." A year later the book came to me on Christmas and I wish, to this day, that I never took Svetlana's advice. Twelve whole months without roasted chicken and crème brûlée. Damn you Svetlana! Damn you!
By the way, honey, if you're reading this, that's just a bit of American humor.
THE BALTHAZAR COOKBOOK is the perfect introduction to those French dishes that we're accustomed to here in the states. Onion soup gratinée, steak frites, and profiteroles are a few dishes that spark the memory. When I consume the spicy white broth of Moules à la Marinière ladled over plump mollusks, dipping warm and crusty bread into my bowl, my body relaxes into comfort. There is a place in my imagination that I go to, with mirrored walls, goblets of red wine, and the lullaby of clinking china and crystal. I don't actually drink the red wine, as my friends know, but I like to think others are indulging.
The writers do an honorable job of describing how things should look when taken out of the oven, what to shop for in the market, and all those little secrets that one depends upon when starting on a new culinary journey. The book, itself, is a joy to flip through. The pages are smooth to the touch. All the recipes are accompanied by colorful pictures and descriptions. It is easy to read and to navigate.
THE BALTHAZAR COOKBOOK is the perfect introduction to those French dishes that we're accustomed to here in the states. Onion soup gratinée, steak frites, and profiteroles are a few dishes that spark the memory. When I consume the spicy white broth of Moules à la Marinière ladled over plump mollusks, dipping warm and crusty bread into my bowl, my body relaxes into comfort. There is a place in my imagination that I go to, with mirrored walls, goblets of red wine, and the lullaby of clinking china and crystal. I don't actually drink the red wine, as my friends know, but I like to think others are indulging.
The writers do an honorable job of describing how things should look when taken out of the oven, what to shop for in the market, and all those little secrets that one depends upon when starting on a new culinary journey. The book, itself, is a joy to flip through. The pages are smooth to the touch. All the recipes are accompanied by colorful pictures and descriptions. It is easy to read and to navigate.
This is how much I love this book. I have completed fourteen recipes. That is, by far, the most I have cooked out of one book. There are creases in the spine that, when propped open, the pages will automatically flip to either Crème Brûlée or Duck à l'orange. I have returned to recipes time and time again. It is my greatest weapon in my in-law arsenal.
(Above) Mustard-Crusted Salmon. This dish I just recently prepared. It was one of those "What do I have in the fridge to make dinner?" moments. Dijon mustard, bread crumbs, black pepper, salt and vegetable oil. Voila! Like Butter in your mouth. Served over a bed of lentils and rice pilaf.
Another great factor about this book is that most of the ingredients are easy to find and commonly used. So don't worry about buying fresh thyme because there are a dozen other recipes that call for it.
(Above) Moules à la Marinière. I try not to think that I'm consuming almost an entire stick of butter when I lick my bowl of this delicious broth.
(Above) Pineapple Upside-Down Cake. Okay. When I saw this recipe I didn't think French. I thought more like Betty Crocker. Well, Betty Crocker must be formerly known as Mademoiselle Crocker because this cake is tasty, spongy and light. A trip on the Crème Anglaise train wouldn't be so bad.
True, I do not recommend this book for the absolute novice. I have already ingratiated words like "reduce" and "julienne" into my vocabulary. I already own a Dutch oven - or two or three.
There are also a handful of, arguably, small flaws. It does not warn how long certain preparation for dishes may take. The orange sauce is a number on the hands and fingers, slicing away at rind and shallots. A simple sauce to make but hours, or what at least feels like hours, to prepare. As is the time it takes to prepare the mussels dish - one of my absolute favorites that's worth the labor. After making it four times I've gotten speedier.
It also doesn't have a recipe for puff pastry, though this is common practice nowadays. I wish it at least had included a temperature for the French Apple Tart and saved me from digging through my garbage for the discarded box.
But let's face it. French food isn't cheap. And it doesn't get delivered to your doorstep on rainy Thursday nights. So for those who are tired of shelling out $30 an entree biannually at the local bistro, I give you The Balthazar Cookbook. For a one-time charge of $25 on Amazon you can eat like a princess. A French one.
But let's face it. French food isn't cheap. And it doesn't get delivered to your doorstep on rainy Thursday nights. So for those who are tired of shelling out $30 an entree biannually at the local bistro, I give you The Balthazar Cookbook. For a one-time charge of $25 on Amazon you can eat like a princess. A French one.
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