So I took to using it more as an Italian cooking encyclopedia; if I made, say, bucatini all’amatriciana, I would check to see what The Silver Spoon had to say about it. Often, though, I would read the recipe and think: huh. And then I would make it my way, because they sometimes seem to write the blandest common denominator (and the editors weird insistence on including recipes for extremely un-Italian dishes like beef Wellington did not deepen my trust in their authority). I didn’t stop consulting it, though. There are some basic recipes that it’s handy to have reminders on the framework ingredients for, and I am now so, so, so glad, because The Silver Spoon came through for me in a big way last night.We made Round 2 of potato pancetta pizza. Round 1 did not suck, but I never, ever would have thought of using taleggio cheese on my own. I knew that a mozzarella-parmesan combo wasn’t quite the ticket, and had been thinking of noodling around with parmesan and other cheeses, so, finally, I consulted The Silver Spoon, to see if they had a recipe for it, and what they suggested. Taleggio. And a firm ordering of how to proceed. First: parboil the potatoes (we did that before, and it was clear that was the way to go). Then bake the pizza with only potatoes (ah. good one.). Then add the other stuff, drizzle with olive oil and off to the races. It’s currently about $27 for a new copy on Amazon, and I am here to tell you that this recipe alone is worth the price. Plus, when you’re not using it, it works really well as a doorstop.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Apologies to The Silver Spoon
I’ve had a copy of The Silver Spoon for a couple of years. At first, I tried to use it more the way I use many cookbooks— I’d page through until I found a recipe that fit my mood, and I’d make it. Given that the damn thing is 1263 pages (including index, etc.), this was not the most effective approach to using such an encyclopedic tome.