By Caitlin Coe
I have a confession to make: I am biased about
this book. I love Michel Richard's food with the kind
of passion that is reserved for unique childhood experiences
forever remembered with fondness. When I was about 5 years
old, I must have done something very, very good, because my
mom took me to Richard's café and pastry shop for a
special lunch. Now, when you can convince a 5-year-old that
there's somewhere more special to go for a treat than the local
pizza joint/arcade/ice-cream parlor, you better be talking
about a pretty impressive place! As usual, Mom was spot on.
There were people enjoying the thinnest pancakes I'd ever seen
(who knew you could eat pancakes for lunch?), loaves of bread
perfectly shaped like alligators, frogs, and flowers that stopped
me in my tracks, and we hadn't even gotten to the cakes and
cookies yet.
Years (and years) later, when I found myself heading to Washington,
D.C., where Richard is currently heading his flagship restaurant
Citronelle, I made sure that I had a reservation for dinner before
I had a reservation for a hotel room. During the meal, I actually
shushed my dining companion; this was the magical kind of food that
deserves moments of quiet respect while being shared. Fortunately,
Richard has shared his magic with us in his aptly named new cookbook, Happy
in the Kitchen.
As you'll see when you pick it up, this is one of those gorgeous cookbooks that, as soon as you're done cooking, you'll want to return to its place on the coffee table for people to ooh and ahh over. The recipes range from familiar comfort foods with a twist, such as "Tri-Continental Onion Soup," to architectural creations such as the "Tuna Napoleon with Virtual Eggs" (those "eggs" are ridiculously good, by the way). Richard calls these dishes "restauranty food"; he's constantly taking a fun, subtle poke at his own prowess, to make those of us without our own award-winning restaurants feel confident about our abilities and tastes. The photos are absolutely stunning, bringing you eye-to-eye with some of the tastiest food made in America todayit is, indeed, "food porn." But the heart of the book lies in the questions that Richard asks of the familiar ingredients he uses: "What don't I know about you? What secrets have you been keeping about yourself, and what can you do to surprise and please me more?"
The majority of the recipes are relatively uncomplicated but still have that "Wow! You made that yourself?" factor, with challenges interspersed along the way. "Asparagus Salmon" is pretty self-explanatory, but results in a lovely little present of asparagus spears fully wrapped with perfectly seasoned salmonwho needs to know that the hardest thing to do is lay the spears in the same direction? For the more daring, the "Raspberry Meringues with Raspberry Tuiles" are beautiful little ruby-red deserts, but admittedly are a bit daunting at first glance (tuiles are like slow-dried fruit chips on steroids). But hey, like all good things, they just require time and patience, and where else but the kitchen can you literally eat your mistakes? Same goes for the delightful "Potato Bites in Potato Baskets": If they turn out well, you'll amaze your friends and family; if not, you've still got fried potatoesyou can't lose!
As enjoyable as the recipes is Richard's buoyant personality, providing lighthearted and informative commentary throughout regarding specific ingredients, cooking techniques, kitchen tools (or "toys" as he calls them), and general culinary life. Beets are introduced with a story about Richard's first encounter with "Mr. Beet," who came from a can. Descriptions such as "this recipe looks like a sun-washed summer day," referring to the "Yellow Tomato Tart," are regular fare. Even a lesson on how to best slice veggies into perfect little cubes using a Benriner (yeah, I'd never heard of this eitherit's a Japanese mandoline) is broken down from a serious chef-ish exercise into easy-to-follow steps. Because of its introduction, I was drawn to the chapter on lamb, "The Cheerful Meat." I'm now planning our entire holiday dinner around the "Lamb Loin with Basil Crust and Fennel"; not only is this dish absolutely delicious, but when served, the tender pinky-red meat surrounded by the bright green herbs is so festive it looks almost like a little Christmas wreath. That being said, "Figgy Piggy with Sweet Spiced Port Sauce" is a close second choice for the name alone.
The joy Michel Richard takes in all things food, and his desire to share that joy, shines throughout Happy in the Kitchen. As I said earlier, this is a most aptly named cookbookif there's anything that this book does (besides give you access to amazing recipes and a phenomenal culinary education), it makes you happy.
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