I picked it up furtively, eyes darting to the left and right to make sure that nearby shoppers skimming Wolfert, Ruhlman and other culinary stalwarts would not notice. I opened it up to a vanity shot of Padma, dressed in a ridiculous navel-bearing designer military jacket and gazing vapidly into the distance. I quickly closed it, and then opened it again. Alluring food porn shots of Keralan Crab Cakes, salad of black grapes, arugula and orange oil, bisteeya sprinkled with powdered sugar and toasted slivered almonds, Korean short ribs marinating in soy and sesame drew me in. The ingredient lists included amchoor, za’atar, rosewater and just about every other pet ingredient languishing in my pantry. I realized, to my horror, that I was going to purchase this book.
Was it my imagination, or was the Barnes and Noble store clerk smirking at me while she rang up my purchase? When I brought it home, tightly wrapped in its plastic bag, my husband could only ask, “You bought Padma Lakshmi’s cookbook? Why?” I went on to Amazon, hoping to vindicate my purchase by showing him the good reviews. But there were only two reviews on Amazon. In other words, all but two other purchasers of this book were just as embarrassed as I was to own this book.
I set out to test the recipes, with very mixed results.
The salads were actually delicious. The Basil and Blood Orange Salad, made with spinach, basil, yuzu, toasted pepitas and dried cranberries was unusual and satisfying -- although the slight numb from the szechuan peppercorns in the dressing was a bit strange in an otherwise delicate salad. The Black Grapes and Baby Arugula salad, made with arugula, grapes, pears and pecorino was also yummy, although less unusual tasting.
It went downhill from there. The Lamb Meatballs Simmered in Cream Spinach Sauce, a meatball kofta curry thickened with tomato paste and yogurt, and the Red Stripe Chicken, a whole chicken simmered in beer, were both tepid, watery messes. The chicken was too sad to even take a picture of. The meatballs, which did not include bread or breadcrumbs to soften the meatballs, were tough. There were also suprisingly tasteless -- the meat is marinated in garam masala, coriander, garlic, cilantro, ginger and onion but I could detect almost none of these flavors in the finished product. After I doctored the broth with additional tomato, yogurt and salt, though, it was more like a tasty curry soup.
Desserts were nice. The Braised Plum Granita was refreshing if a bit raisiny. The cookie recipes (I decided to play it safe at this point) were also nice, especially the Clouds of Cardamom and Cashew Cookies. The Jamaican Johnny Cake was like a cross between banana bread and corn bread, which I thought was a kinda genius combination of comfort foods.
All in all, not really a success. Although some of the tastes and textures were alluring, the recipes are so uneven that I would hesitate to invest any expensive ingredients on them. Although I might take it out for an unusual idea or combination, I would not rely on the recipes. This one will probably languish on the shelf, hidden discreetly behind my other cookbooks.
hello Suzie,
It was fun to read all your comments about yours trials with receipes; we have all shared at one point or another the defeating feeling of preparing a wonderful meal to find out that the meat was undercooked or that something went terribly wrong because what I created looks far from the picture which was so tempting. My only regret is to be unable to experiment the receipes which were mouth watering. So I will keep on reading your blog in the subway underlying everything that is so true or amusing. Merci!
Posted by: laure goldenfahn | March 06, 2008 at 08:14 AM