THE SCARLET PUMPERNICKEL

Good Books For Cooks

by Fred Thomas

Oh, Sweet Civilization!

This Month's Recipe: Minestra di Broccoli e Gamberi

AS A RULE, I don't care much for the restaurant cookbook. An exception is Lidia's Italian Table, based on the cooking at Lidia Matticchio Bastianich's three restaurants in New York, the most famous of which is Felidia's, the world-beater on East 58th. In addition to serving up culinary symphonies from her native Italian peninsula of Istria, her two-story dining room's barman serves forth the finest martini on the planet.

I have tasted the martini at Felidia's on many occasions -- once, memorably, in the company of Jay Jacobs, the long-time (and best) New York restaurant reviewer for Gourmet magazine.

I was in the city doing a fairly rotten job of schlepping a rate card for my magazines around Madison Avenue -- in a snowstorm, on crutches, with a bum leg. But I looked marvelous, having just spent $600 of expense account money on an all-white wool calf-length coat, until a taxi splashed grimy slush my way. That was the last straw. I had had it. I hobbled to the nearest pay phone and asked information for the number of one Jay Jacobs. He answered, and I explained that I had read his epistles on the martini (in both Gourmet and Connoisseur), and Lord, after the day I'd had, would he, not knowing me from Adam's housecat, be kind enough to join me for one?

The bar at Felidia -- the restaurant's name combines Lidia's name and her husband's, Felice -- is a small clubby affair, just six or eight barstools. The saint behind the bar spotted Jacobs and Jacobs acknowledged him with a barely perceptible nod. Simi, the barman, pulled out two chilled martini stems, setting them and a twist at the bar's edge, and began his sacred alchemy by pouring ice, gin and vermouth into a shaker. We settled into our seats and Simi poured Jacobs' martini first; its satiny blend, chilled to near freezing, convexed over the glass. Then mine, with the same convex effect, the surface tension just so that another drop -- and there was not a drop left in the down-turned shaker -- would have created a minor flood on the bar. The only way to take the first sip of Simi's martin was to bow to the bar, kissing the rim of the glass that held the badly needed antidote to the day's cruelties.

Three of these devils and oxygen, or an interpreter, may be required. I was smitten -- imagine, finding the best anything in this cookie-cutter world -- and have made Felidia's a de rigueur stop when in the city, always with a preprandial tarry at the bar. Oh, sweet civilization.

The martini at Felidia's is not the only reason to go. Her kitchen serves up sophisticated, and at times complex, dishes. At her restaurant -- the other two she owns are Becco and Frico Bar -- she is not afraid to use truffles, plump sweet anchovies, prosciutto di Parma or a stinky Gorgonzola. Her cookbook urges the home cook to use the unusual, as well, and doesn't offer clownish mind-numbing substitutions, a trend followed by too many of today's cooking authors, all genuflecting to the low-fat and low-cholesterol nonsense. If butter, cream and eggs are called for, I say use them -- or spare everybody and don't make the dish at all.

Lidia's Italian Table seems to have been a joy to write for Ms. Bastianich. Each of her several hundred recipes demonstrates her love of the cuisine. And each recipe is prefaced with a comment from the author. For example, in her recipe for Roasted Chicken with Pomegranate, she provides this preface as important trivia:

Pomegranate is one of the fruits mentioned in the Bible, and it is still a favorite fruit of the Mediterranean. It is revered almost as much as the olive tree, signifying good luck and fertility. Making your own pomegranate juice is slow going at first, but becomes quicker once you get the knack of freezing the seeds from the fruit's membranes. If you live near a Middle Eastern specialty shop, look for bottled unsweetened pomegranate juice.

Another thing about this 390-page book is her directions protocol. Instead of providing a scientific recipe, her text, like that often of Culinary Institute of America books, is do this, then that, add this, then bake. At times, especially when trying out untested dishes, this can be a tad scary; the underlying dictum, of course, is to taste and taste again during the cooking, such a simple concept that every good chef knows it, but it often is ignored by the home cook. I felt a touch at sea when putting together her Minestra di Broccoli e Gamberi, a rich, comforting broccoli and shrimp soup, perfect for chilly winter evenings, with the shrimp providing hints that spring and summer are just a month or so away. While Ms. Bastianich tells you to serve this soup hot, I've found it equally tasty chilled, and will add that as an alternative to gazpacho for the summer refrigerator -- although I suspect that with the shrimp, it won't keep well for more than a day or two, three tops.

Other recipes in the book that look simply divine are Veal Ossobuco with Barley Risotto, a polenta, gorgonzola and cabbage torte, and rigatoni in parchment cases with five cheeses (ricotta, Swiss, Fontina, Pecorino Romano and Parmigiano-Reggiano).

When I read Ms. Bastianich's book, I think dinner parties, although a few of her basic recipes, like her marinara sauce (which takes but 25 minutes from start to finish) and her uncooked tomato sauce (another summery idea of cherry tomatoes, exquisite olive oil and crushed red pepper) are good for the time-pressed.

I'm quite fond of this book, a nice compliment to the cook's library and a good, modern companion to Marcella Hazen's Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking.

Books reviewed in The Scarlet Pumpernickel may be purchased
at a discount on the Books For Cooks aisle at The Bookstall.

Fred Thomas has been a writer and editor for more than two decades, as a reporter for the St. Petersburg Times, as tabloid editor at The Tampa Tribune, as group editor for a chain of Florida magazines, and as founding editor of Southern Homes. Now at home on the beach in West Central Florida, he specializes in writing about food and architecture. He knows the secret of perfect French fries.