melle's review against another edition
5.0
If this doesn't get you wanting to bake your own bread, ferment your own kimchi, and brew your own beer, I don't know what will. :)
spiderfelt's review against another edition
4.0
I had to leave this book at the cabin after finishing the first two sections of the book: fire and water. These notes are to help me remember what I think so far.
The introduction was enough of a slog that I put down the book in favor of an easy paperback. While a devotee of Pollan, I was not sufficiently engaged to keep reading.
It seems that the years of book touring and editorial writing have jaded Pollan. He seemed to preface several of his anecdotes with disclaimers as if he was anticipating the comments he would receive. I get his premise and I count myself among his tribe (does anyone else read his work). Suffice it to say, the chapter on fire did not inspire me.
Water was another matter. I want to take cooking lessons all winter with my own personal chef. What a gig! I would even write about it if I thought that would make it affordable. I did learn quite a bit about the science behind braised meats, and this section made me crave a hearty stew despite reading it in mid-July.
Continued Dec 2013:
The third chapter, Air, is so poetic, I retract my earlier judgements. Once again, I find myself compelled to read excerpts aloud to my husband and children.
Describing the power of our olfactory senses to convey complex tastes, Pollan describes a ginger-rose soufflé that contains only a drop of each essential oil. "The flavor was powerful yet largely illusory, the result of the way the essential oils played on the human brain's difficulty in distinguishing between information obtained by the sense of taste and that provided by the sense of smell. Each bite amounted to a little poem of synesthesia-a confusion of senses that delighted."
By the time I finished the fourth chapter, Earth, focused on the alchemy caused by fermentation, I was thoroughly smitten again with Pollan's mastery of his craft. His meditations on the value of craft and the power of alcohol on the creative spirit made the book entirely worth reading.
The introduction was enough of a slog that I put down the book in favor of an easy paperback. While a devotee of Pollan, I was not sufficiently engaged to keep reading.
It seems that the years of book touring and editorial writing have jaded Pollan. He seemed to preface several of his anecdotes with disclaimers as if he was anticipating the comments he would receive. I get his premise and I count myself among his tribe (does anyone else read his work). Suffice it to say, the chapter on fire did not inspire me.
Water was another matter. I want to take cooking lessons all winter with my own personal chef. What a gig! I would even write about it if I thought that would make it affordable. I did learn quite a bit about the science behind braised meats, and this section made me crave a hearty stew despite reading it in mid-July.
Continued Dec 2013:
The third chapter, Air, is so poetic, I retract my earlier judgements. Once again, I find myself compelled to read excerpts aloud to my husband and children.
Describing the power of our olfactory senses to convey complex tastes, Pollan describes a ginger-rose soufflé that contains only a drop of each essential oil. "The flavor was powerful yet largely illusory, the result of the way the essential oils played on the human brain's difficulty in distinguishing between information obtained by the sense of taste and that provided by the sense of smell. Each bite amounted to a little poem of synesthesia-a confusion of senses that delighted."
By the time I finished the fourth chapter, Earth, focused on the alchemy caused by fermentation, I was thoroughly smitten again with Pollan's mastery of his craft. His meditations on the value of craft and the power of alcohol on the creative spirit made the book entirely worth reading.
hoperu's review against another edition
2.0
I generally like Michael Pollan - The Botany of Desire is one of my favorite natural history type books- but most of this comes off as self-indulgent, privileged and elitist. The chapters on fire and earth ( barbecue and fermentation) were both pretty interesting. The chapter on air (bread) almost made me give up. As someone who bakes quite a bit of bread, but can't keep a sourdough starter going, I found his neophyte's evangelical stand on sourdough very irritating, as well as his denigration of all commercially available yeast and flour. While it would be nice for everyone to have access to authentically ground whole wheat flour and a perky sourdough starter, it ain't going to happen. (Yes, I am feeling a little defensive).
In short, not one of my favorite Michael Pollan books.
In short, not one of my favorite Michael Pollan books.
dana_in_denver's review against another edition
1.0
I hope my book club won't be mad at me... I read the first section on fire, but I just couldn't get through the other elements. The book just got too boring...
pharmdad2007's review against another edition
4.0
This was a fascinating look at the reasons we cook our food, and the ways we accomplish that task. I enjoyed the book even more than The Omnivore's Dilemma. Pollan is engaging and informative with a narrative style that barely makes it feel like you're being educated! Highly recommend.
dumbpuddle's review against another edition
informative
reflective
medium-paced
4.0
i love cooking and i love talking about cooking and real food, very good
auntblh's review against another edition
4.0
I enjoyed this book and might suggest it for book group next year. I liked how the author experimented with the different foods. I might even be inspired to do more cooking...nah. :)
thearbiter89's review against another edition
5.0
Easily the most inspiring book I've read in a long time.
Michael Pollan's Cooked gives voice to something I've felt for a very long time - that cooking is more than an act of self-sustenance, but one of creativity, mystique and self-empowerment.
There is a power to the act of cooking. It is ingrained into our history as a species. Cooking unlocked the nutritive potential of our food sources, enabling our ancestors to evolve more quickly and freeing up their time spent foraging and hunting to kickstart a civilisation. In modernity, it remains a last holdout of artisanship in the face of an all-consuming capitalist juggernaut, powered by the cold logic of comparative advantage.
There is therefore a nobility to cooking - it hearkens us back to our roots in the deep past, and is one of the few ways left for ordinary people to create something of value and worth with their own hands - a product that gives creative satisfaction to the creator, pleasure to the partaker, and binds us closer together.
With that frame in mind, Pollan explores four realms of cooking in this book, in four distinct parts related to the classical elements - fire, water, air and earth. Fire, naturally, applies to roasting and smoking. Water is the act of braising and making stews. Air is the act of baking, and earth is the act of fermentation, both in food and drink. There are, of course, overlaps - but in essence the division is a poetic and apt one.
For each part, Pollan interviews and works with masters of each of the four crafts - pig smokers, sous chefs, bakers, homebrewers, and "fermentation fetishists", talks about the historical, scientific, nutritional and creative aspects of each process, and eventually describes his attempts to recreate some of what he has learned in his own kitchen. Pollan's enthusiasm is infectious, his research far-ranging, and his exhortations to try it yourself compelling. For each foodway, he portrays the food, when properly made, as something transcendent in tastes and smell but also nourishing and sustaining from a nutritive, cultural and psychological standpoint. And then, he walks the talk and tries to make it himself - drawing the book back to its fundamental thesis - the need to cook for yourself to reap the multitudinous benefits of the act.
Reading Cooked didn't change my mind about anything - because I was already convinced of cooking's value in achieving fulfillment. But it did open up a new dimension of things that I was previously unfamiliar with, and showed me just how interesting the art of food-making can be. The chapter on breadmaking, for example, taught me that it's possible to make a loaf of healthy, delicious bread in the style of world-class bakeries like Tartine in your own home, using varieties of bacteria that you can cultivate in your own kitchen. The chapter on braising underscored the point that you don't need expensive cuts of meat to create rich and sustaining stews. The chapter on fermentation taught me the cultural depth that can be found in each culture's use of bacteria to alter their food to impart unique (and sometimes acquired) tastes and smells.
In essence, cooking, itself, is something that ties us back to our cultural and biological roots, while opening up whole new worlds of experience in the comfort of our own homes. Michael Pollan's Cooked is, if anything, just about the best tome to evangelise that message. It's certainly inspired me to want to try all that he does, and more.
I give this book: 5 out of 5 lactobacillus starters
Michael Pollan's Cooked gives voice to something I've felt for a very long time - that cooking is more than an act of self-sustenance, but one of creativity, mystique and self-empowerment.
There is a power to the act of cooking. It is ingrained into our history as a species. Cooking unlocked the nutritive potential of our food sources, enabling our ancestors to evolve more quickly and freeing up their time spent foraging and hunting to kickstart a civilisation. In modernity, it remains a last holdout of artisanship in the face of an all-consuming capitalist juggernaut, powered by the cold logic of comparative advantage.
There is therefore a nobility to cooking - it hearkens us back to our roots in the deep past, and is one of the few ways left for ordinary people to create something of value and worth with their own hands - a product that gives creative satisfaction to the creator, pleasure to the partaker, and binds us closer together.
With that frame in mind, Pollan explores four realms of cooking in this book, in four distinct parts related to the classical elements - fire, water, air and earth. Fire, naturally, applies to roasting and smoking. Water is the act of braising and making stews. Air is the act of baking, and earth is the act of fermentation, both in food and drink. There are, of course, overlaps - but in essence the division is a poetic and apt one.
For each part, Pollan interviews and works with masters of each of the four crafts - pig smokers, sous chefs, bakers, homebrewers, and "fermentation fetishists", talks about the historical, scientific, nutritional and creative aspects of each process, and eventually describes his attempts to recreate some of what he has learned in his own kitchen. Pollan's enthusiasm is infectious, his research far-ranging, and his exhortations to try it yourself compelling. For each foodway, he portrays the food, when properly made, as something transcendent in tastes and smell but also nourishing and sustaining from a nutritive, cultural and psychological standpoint. And then, he walks the talk and tries to make it himself - drawing the book back to its fundamental thesis - the need to cook for yourself to reap the multitudinous benefits of the act.
Reading Cooked didn't change my mind about anything - because I was already convinced of cooking's value in achieving fulfillment. But it did open up a new dimension of things that I was previously unfamiliar with, and showed me just how interesting the art of food-making can be. The chapter on breadmaking, for example, taught me that it's possible to make a loaf of healthy, delicious bread in the style of world-class bakeries like Tartine in your own home, using varieties of bacteria that you can cultivate in your own kitchen. The chapter on braising underscored the point that you don't need expensive cuts of meat to create rich and sustaining stews. The chapter on fermentation taught me the cultural depth that can be found in each culture's use of bacteria to alter their food to impart unique (and sometimes acquired) tastes and smells.
In essence, cooking, itself, is something that ties us back to our cultural and biological roots, while opening up whole new worlds of experience in the comfort of our own homes. Michael Pollan's Cooked is, if anything, just about the best tome to evangelise that message. It's certainly inspired me to want to try all that he does, and more.
I give this book: 5 out of 5 lactobacillus starters
cinnachick's review against another edition
4.0
I thoroughly enjoyed this book, but I thought it was a bit babbly in parts.