A Few of My Favorite Cook Books: Part 2
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Last time, I promised this would be an ongoing series, and I meant it — there are simply too many cookbooks on my shelves, and too many stories behind them, to fit into a single post. So here's the next installment.
There are times when you're just cooking on the fly, and for those times there are so many wonderful, easy-access online recipe resources — from Instagram to Facebook and all the bloggers and YouTubers in between — that you can quickly find something to make for dinner on a Wednesday night.
Then there are those times when you have a bit more time to contemplate what you're in the mood for, or what you'd like to serve whomever you're cooking for. This is when I find myself turning to my bookshelves, where my collection of cookbooks sits, waiting like good friends, to offer some suggestions.
Each volume on the shelves speaks to me with a different voice — that of the author, but also of the time in my life when I first discovered it. Learning how to cook in my first tiny New York City apartment, where I also discovered what one can do with vegetables that don't come in a plastic boil-in-bag, and first unfurled the magic leaves of a steamer basket — that would be The Joy of Cooking, and maybe the original New York Times Cookbook, both gifted to me by my mother as a welcome-to-adulthood present.
Next came The Silver Palate Cookbook and The New Basics, from Sheila Lukins and Julee Rosso. At this point the apartment I lived in was slightly larger, but the kitchen was still the same six-foot square. I'd walk past the windows of the Silver Palate store often, admiring the gorgeous displays of food and bottles of exotic-looking sauces and dressings, so once I had the cookbook in hand I was eager to try each recipe in succession. After several weeks, a few basics under my belt and one too many dinners of Chicken Marbella, I felt very sophisticated — capable of anything a city caterer might conjure up, and ready for my next challenge (more on that another time).
But good cookbooks have a way of sticking with you. It was in the pages of The Silver Palate Cookbook that, years later, with company coming and two daughters under the age of two, I found one of the simplest and most delicious recipes I've ever made. True, I don't make it often, because it's pretty rich, but this pasta dish is worth every calorie. Turns out there are many versions of this easy meal, but this one remains my favorite.
I'm sharing it here because it's too good to stay stuck inside a sauce-stained cookbook on my shelf. Plus, if you've only got 15 minutes to prep a meal for guests, as I did with my young kids, you'll dazzle them with this one. Serve it with a crusty loaf of bread and a crisp, chilled Vermentino, and you'll rightfully get the accolades you deserve.
Adapted from The Silver Palate Cookbook
Ingredients:
4 large ripe tomatoes, cut into chunks, or 2 pints cherry tomatoes, halved
1 lb. ripe Brie cheese, rind removed and torn into pieces
1 cup basil leaves, thinly sliced
3 large garlic cloves, peeled and minced
1 cup extra virgin olive oil
2½ tsp salt
1 tsp freshly ground black pepper
1 lb. linguine (or pasta shape of your choice)
Freshly grated Parmesan cheese
Method:
Combine the tomatoes, Brie, basil, garlic, olive oil, salt, and pepper in a large serving bowl at least 2 hours before you plan to serve, and set it aside at room temperature, covered.
Bring a big pot of water to a rolling boil, add a bit of salt, then add the linguine and cook for 8–10 minutes. Drain the pasta, reserving a cup of the cooking liquid, and add it to the Brie mixture. Toss, then add a grind or two of black pepper and the Parmesan cheese. If you like, sprinkle a few more basil leaves on top and serve in warm bowls. If the mixture seems too dense, stir in some of the reserved cooking water. If there are leftovers, that same reserved water makes reheating the next day easy.