The Provençal Cookbook: Shop, cook, and eat like a local
By Gui Gedda and Marie-Pierre Moine
Review by Lacy LeBlanc
It’s tempting and all too easy to fill your pantry with good things in pretty jars and bottles, but these things are not just for decoration. Remember that every pot, can, or packet should work for its shelf space several times, and deliver its flavors before its expiration date arrives.
Once upon a time, I bought cookbooks that were all essentially alike. They included all of the standard recipes for all of the standard things. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve tried to branch out to explore cuisines that I enjoy eating but have never really cooked on my own. I feel like The Provençal Cookbook falls somewhere between what I used to do and what I currently do. A lot of the food in it is familiar: roast chicken, pork chops, macaroni, and crusty bread. But the recipes are different enough to not be in regular rotation in my kitchen. And I really do enjoy rustic-style cooking so much more than food-as-art, so this one was right in my culinary wheelhouse.
Hands down, my two favorite dishes were the Garlic and Anchovy Toasts and the Aïoli Platter. Both are garlicky and salty and easy and delicious. In fact, I spent the next several days devouring my weight in aïoli and veggies. Naturally, me being me, I didn’t follow the recipes exactly. I used champagne vinegar and non-rinsed anchovies (and more of them) for the toasts, and I only used green beans and potatoes for the aïoli platter. Whatever. Recipes like this exist to be customized. Use what’s written as a guideline and then make yourself happy. On a related note, the aïoli makes an amazing sauce for pasta topped with fresh veggies and feta. Seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to eat raw vegetables as I have been with aïoli.
The Roasted Pepper and Tomato Salad was also really good and not something I would’ve thought to make on my own. Plus, I got to use my gas stove to char peppers (which subsequently didn’t want to peel, but I suppose that doesn’t ultimately matter). I’m usually not big on cooked tomatoes (no, I’m not counting tomato sauce as “cooked tomato”) because I dislike the texture, but I think the mustard and vinegar went a long way to making them more palatable. For what it’s worth, this was much better fresh than it was the next day. Make sure you eat it at room temperature to get the most out of it.
I served the Grilled Pork Chops with Sage (although I used a pork loin and roasted it in the oven) and Buttered Macaroni with Parsley one night when some of my friends and their kids came over for dinner. I needed something that was “grown up” enough to make the adults happy without turning off potentially picky kid palates. (Admittedly, they and I both have pretty adventurous eaters, but still. It’s easier to pick crowd pleasers than take a chance.) The macaroni was fine but really plain—probably not something I’ll bother making again. But the pork was delicious. I always forget how versatile mustard is, and I’m grateful to Gedda and Moine for reminding me.
The only sort of meh thing was the Sea Bass with Fennel. (Again, I had a substitution. I couldn’t find a whole sea bass, so I used bronzini, and I used fennel pollen instead of crushed fennel seeds.) It wasn’t bad; I just wasn’t impressed. I think maybe I’m just not good at cooking whole fish. I guess there has to be something that I’d prefer to eat at a restaurant instead of making at home.
Overall, I really liked this cookbook. As always, I didn’t get the chance to make everything that I wanted to try, so I’ll have to make sure to come back to this one once the weather warms up and Mediterranean veggies are back in season.
Buy It: If you can’t jet off to the South of France for the Summer, these recipes will at least let you pretend that you’re there.
