Outlaw Cook

Rating:
Summary: A culinary outlaw and food philosopher strikes gold
Review: John Thorne is one of the most thoughtful, provocative and downright talented writers going, and the book he and his wife, Matt Lewis Thorne, have produced is ample evidence of this. In addition to providing some excellent recipes, "Outlaw Cook" is just plain old good reading.

I was first introduced to Thorne's writing years ago when a colleague gave me a copy of his first book, "Simple Cooking." "Simple Cooking" is a compilation of essays and recipes from his newsletter (by the same name), and it charmed me. From the best essay I have ever read on cheesecake to the recounting of a long-ago romantic evening highlighted by the appearance of homemade Philly cheesesteak sandwiches, Thorne covered a wealth of disparate material and covered it all with an unstuffy and contagious isn't-this-fascinating spirit. "Outlaw Cook" serves up more of the same delicious dish.

One of the most exhilarating things in "Outlaw Cook" is the chapter called "On Not Being a Good Cook." For a man who makes his living writing about food and cooking, this baldly titled essay is a brazen thing to include in a book that bears the imprimatur of the International Association of Culinary Professionals (it was a winner of one of the Julia Child Cookbook Awards). Throwing down the gauntlet to the rarefied world of foodies (as food writers are commonly called), he begins the essay by asserting, "I'm not a good cook." He goes on:

" . . . if our criterion for goodness is whether I possess anything like a genuinely well-rounded repertoire of dishes I consistently prepare well, then my credentials are nothing much to boast about. Quite honestly, this has never bothered me much at all . . . It's my experience that truly good cooks are born. I was not born to be one, and I don't like being trained, especially if the result is going to be mere competency. I've generally found life a lot more interesting learning to use my limitations than struggling to overcome them."

Take that, all you Cordon Bleu-trained snobs! After all, most of us haven't been trained in cooking--except perhaps at a parent's knee, if we are lucky--so his comments, while surprising coming from a food writer, do apply to the majority of the general population. The essay serves the dual purpose of endearing Thorne to his readers and emboldening them to share his defiance of the conventions of cookery.

There are other goodies as well. Thorne writes convincingly (if somewhat obsessively) about the need to bake bread in a wood-fired, outdoor oven. He takes deadly aim at food writer Paula Wolfert and wickedly skewers Martha Stewart. And as if the polished prose weren't enough, there are many worthwhile recipes; his takes on lemon ice cream, Texas toast, Swedish pea soup and pecan pie all leap to the fore.

Matt Lewis Thorne and John Thorne have, with "Outlaw Cook" produced a quiet classic of food writing that deserves to be on any thoughtful cook's bookshelf--or on the bedside table. It's that good.

Rating:
Summary: A culinary outlaw and food philosopher strikes gold
Review: John Thorne is one of the most thoughtful, provocative and downright talented writers going, and the book he and his wife, Matt Lewis Thorne, have produced is ample evidence of this. In addition to providing some excellent recipes, "Outlaw Cook" is just plain old good reading.

I was first introduced to Thorne's writing years ago when a colleague gave me a copy of his first book, "Simple Cooking." "Simple Cooking" is a compilation of essays and recipes from his newsletter (by the same name), and it charmed me. From the best essay I have ever read on cheesecake to the recounting of a long-ago romantic evening highlighted by the appearance of homemade Philly cheesesteak sandwiches, Thorne covered a wealth of disparate material and covered it all with an unstuffy and contagious isn't-this-fascinating spirit. "Outlaw Cook" serves up more of the same delicious dish.

One of the most exhilarating things in "Outlaw Cook" is the chapter called "On Not Being a Good Cook." For a man who makes his living writing about food and cooking, this baldly titled essay is a brazen thing to include in a book that bears the imprimatur of the International Association of Culinary Professionals (it was a winner of one of the Julia Child Cookbook Awards). Throwing down the gauntlet to the rarefied world of foodies (as food writers are commonly called), he begins the essay by asserting, "I'm not a good cook." He goes on:

" . . . if our criterion for goodness is whether I possess anything like a genuinely well-rounded repertoire of dishes I consistently prepare well, then my credentials are nothing much to boast about. Quite honestly, this has never bothered me much at all . . . It's my experience that truly good cooks are born. I was not born to be one, and I don't like being trained, especially if the result is going to be mere competency. I've generally found life a lot more interesting learning to use my limitations than struggling to overcome them."

Take that, all you Cordon Bleu-trained snobs! After all, most of us haven't been trained in cooking--except perhaps at a parent's knee, if we are lucky--so his comments, while surprising coming from a food writer, do apply to the majority of the general population. The essay serves the dual purpose of endearing Thorne to his readers and emboldening them to share his defiance of the conventions of cookery.

There are other goodies as well. Thorne writes convincingly (if somewhat obsessively) about the need to bake bread in a wood-fired, outdoor oven. He takes deadly aim at food writer Paula Wolfert and wickedly skewers Martha Stewart. And as if the polished prose weren't enough, there are many worthwhile recipes; his takes on lemon ice cream, Texas toast, Swedish pea soup and pecan pie all leap to the fore.

Matt Lewis Thorne and John Thorne have, with "Outlaw Cook" produced a quiet classic of food writing that deserves to be on any thoughtful cook's bookshelf--or on the bedside table. It's that good.

Rating:
Summary: John Thorne is my culinary hero
Review: My first contact with John Thorne was a review of "Serious Pig" that appeared in the Washington Post. I quickly bought the book, and Thorne's two other books, "Simple Cooking" and "Outlaw Cook," and devoured them all. I have bought many copies of each (especially "Outlaw Cook") to share with friends who are serious cooks.

Unlike an ordinary cookbook writers, John Thorne doesn't just share recipes (although there are plenty of them); he inspires good cooks to be better. His style is less about fancy food for dinner parties than about stunningly good food to share with close friends, or to enjoy in contemplative solitude.

In "Outlaw Cook," John shares his memories of his first kitchen, in a cold-water flat on the lower east side of Manhattan, and the important lessons he learned there. He goes on to talk about the properties of garlic as a seducer that possesses body and soul(10 pages on garlic soup!), and about food that is loaded with it. He writes a chapter on "The Perfect Pecan Pie," not to tell you how to make it, but to help you find your own perfect pecan pie. He spends forty pages on sourdough bread, and I felt when I finished that I understood the process (although it took some practice before I really had it just right). There is a pear-ginger cake that is a revelation, although I added a warm caramel sauce to John's recipe for a Christmas dinner treat that has become a tradition.

John Thorne writes about food with keen knowledge, imagination, emotion, wit, and heart I've never found before. He's been compared to M.F.K. Fisher, but he's earthier. His writing has a visceral quality that evokes our most hidden emotions about the food we eat.

John Thorne's books are not for the novice. They are for the cook who knows the ways of the kitchen, but wants to learn to trust his imagination, to leap forward into a new realm where the food one cooks satisfies the hunger of the soul as well as the stomach.

Rating:
Summary: John Thorne is my culinary hero
Review: My first contact with John Thorne was a review of "Serious Pig" that appeared in the Washington Post. I quickly bought the book, and Thorne's two other books, "Simple Cooking" and "Outlaw Cook," and devoured them all. I have bought many copies of each (especially "Outlaw Cook") to share with friends who are serious cooks.

Unlike an ordinary cookbook writers, John Thorne doesn't just share recipes (although there are plenty of them); he inspires good cooks to be better. His style is less about fancy food for dinner parties than about stunningly good food to share with close friends, or to enjoy in contemplative solitude.

In "Outlaw Cook," John shares his memories of his first kitchen, in a cold-water flat on the lower east side of Manhattan, and the important lessons he learned there. He goes on to talk about the properties of garlic as a seducer that possesses body and soul(10 pages on garlic soup!), and about food that is loaded with it. He writes a chapter on "The Perfect Pecan Pie," not to tell you how to make it, but to help you find your own perfect pecan pie. He spends forty pages on sourdough bread, and I felt when I finished that I understood the process (although it took some practice before I really had it just right). There is a pear-ginger cake that is a revelation, although I added a warm caramel sauce to John's recipe for a Christmas dinner treat that has become a tradition.

John Thorne writes about food with keen knowledge, imagination, emotion, wit, and heart I've never found before. He's been compared to M.F.K. Fisher, but he's earthier. His writing has a visceral quality that evokes our most hidden emotions about the food we eat.

John Thorne's books are not for the novice. They are for the cook who knows the ways of the kitchen, but wants to learn to trust his imagination, to leap forward into a new realm where the food one cooks satisfies the hunger of the soul as well as the stomach.

Rating:
Summary: Over-written, pretentious stuff
Review: This man's problem is obvious. In his youth he dreamed of being a writer, and dropped out of college to flee to NYC and attempt literary fame. Failing, he finished college and taught prep school for a half a dozen years, and then decided to try for literary fame again as a "food writer." Unfortunately, although he is right about how to eat an avocado, most of his recipes are downright uninteresting and his writing is at times absurd.

This man actually wrote that he wanted to understand why the food we eat wanted to kill its father and sleep with its mother! I don't know what you may think, but I find this a pretty dumb question to ask of a turnip!

On another page, he informs us that he loves BBQ ribs and that they are "rebarbative." Oooh, a hard word! Alas, it means "very irritating or repulsive," not a good fifty-dollar word to apply to the food you love to eat.

Deservedly out of print.