Top 14 albums of 2014.

My Insider content from the last few days:
* The Jimmy Rollins trade
* The Mat Latos and Alfredo Simon trades
* The Matt Kemp trade
* The Rick Porcello/Yoenis Cespedes trade
* The Wade Miley trade
* The Howie Kendrick/Andrew Heaney trade and Brandon McCarthy signing
* The Dee Gordon trade
* The Jon Lester signing
* The Francisco Liriano re-signing
* The Miguel Montero trade
* The Jeff Samardzija trade (and David Robertson signing) and Oakland’s return
* The Jason Hammel signing
* The Brandon Moss trade

My review of the boardgame Concordia is up at Paste, and I did an interview about baseball and metal with Decibel.

My ranking of the top 14 albums of the year is below, and reflects my own personal preferences, with a balance between albums that have a few standout songs and ones that worked better as cohesive units. You can see last year’s top 13 albums list for a comparison and to see if something you expected to see here actually made last year’s list (e.g., CHVRCHES, Arctic Monkeys). I heard a lot more than I ranked here, but getting to fourteen albums I truly liked and would recommend wasn’t even easy.

Linked album titles go to full reviews. My ranking of the top 100 songs of the year will follow in a few days.

14. The Kooks – Listen. Goofy British pop-rock songs that didn’t work so well as a collection, especially with a few tracks worth skipping, but featured a number of very strong singles, including “Bad Habit,” “Down,” and “Forgive and Forget.”

13. Animals as Leaders – The Joy of Motion. (amazoniTunes) An all-instrumental technical/progressive metal-fusion record … or something like that. If you love guitarwork, including jazz-inspired soloing, with unconventional song structures, featuring numerous musicians operating at the far right end of what is possible with their instruments, you’ll love this album. Otherwise, maybe just move on to #12.

12. To Kill a King – Exit, Pursued by a Bear. (amazoniTunes) It’s an EP, which is kind of cheating since I hadn’t included EP releases on previous lists, but 1) this is my list so I get to make up the rules 2) I love the title and 3) it’s a really fucking good EP. They remind me in particular of Animals that Swim, a British band from the 1990s and early 2000s that made folk-rock songs that often sounded like great drinking songs and made great use of horns as well as guitars. To Kill a King aren’t afraid to work the horns, the acoustic and electric guitar, the piano, unconventional percussion sounds, and backup harmonies that range from the typical to the borderline-annoying. Wikipedia’s entry compares them to The National, but To Kill a King’s lead singer actually sings rather than mumbling his lyrics. Opener “Oh My Love” plays like a dirge with a nod to Andrew Marvell; “Love is Coal” seems like a straight middle finger to Mumford & Sons and all of their clones, saying “this is how you do the slow-fast-slow thing, posers.”

11. Insomnium – Shadows of a Dying Sun. The best metal album of the year for me comes from this Finnish melodic death-metal act previously known for primarily downbeat and often soporific music that wasn’t saved by the technical prowess of its guitarists. Shadows brings them much more firmly into the melodic camp, with the occasional clean vocal, far more ornate song structures (with actual movements in some tracks), and somewhat less dreary lyrics. There aren’t many bands operating in this demilitarized zone between classic thrash, classical metal, and straight-up death metal, but it’s a sweet spot for my particular tastes.

As an aside, my top metal albums of the year: Insomnium, Animals as Leaders, Pallbearer’s Foundations of Burden, Horrendous’ Ecdysis, and At the Gates’ At War With Reality.

10. Band of Skulls – Himalayan. I like to rock, or more specifically, I like to listen to bands that rock, preferably without apology or relent. (I do like to rock a little, though.) Band of Skulls draws deeply on genres from 1970s classic rock to the more commercial part of 1990s grunge, and most of this album is driven by huge guitar riffs, blues shuffles, and bass-heavy grooves. This is music for people who just love hard rock that isn’t metal and still boasts great melodies, from the title track, “Asleep at the Wheel,” “Toreador,” and the psycheledic “Nightmares.”

9. Ex Hex – Rips. It’s good to have Mary Timony, formerly of noise-rock icons Helium and the all-female Wild Flag (with Carrie Brownstein of Sleater-Kinney, whose 2015 album should appear on my list next year), back with a new band. Ex Hex is punk-pop more than anything else, hook-filled with a slew of short, punchy, fast-paced songs that are a little light lyrically but incredibly fun to listen to, including “Beast,” “Don’t Wanna Lose,” and “New Kid.”

8. Kaiser Chiefs – Education, Education, Education, and War. The big comeback album for the band best known for their 2004 hit “I Predict a Riot” was by far their most mature, measured, balanced effort ever, easing up on the overly clever lyrics just a bit and filling the album with compelling hooks and more nuanced songwriting. Lead single “Coming Home” found them almost serious and pensive, while “Cannons,” “Ruffians on Parade” and opener “The Factory Gates” brought the electricity you’d expect from the Chiefs along with newly thoughtful, sardonic lyrics. This album, with a title mocking a speech once given by Tony Blair, didn’t chart in the U.S., but hit #1 in the UK and went gold, their best showing since their second album came out in 2007.

7. Broods – Evergreen. (amazoniTunes) This New Zealand brother-and-sister duo first hit with their single “Bridges,” a top 10 song for me this year due to its stunning contrast from the sweet, piano-driven verse to the thumping chorus where singer Georgia Nutt shifts up to a falsetto that almost strains her range. Their full album has great contrasts throughout within that dream-pop/electronic framework, most with strong melodies, showing a lot of range for a very young pair of songwriters on their first album.

6. …And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead – IX. With their ninth album (duh), the ol’ Trail of Dead are at their most melodic and textured, with tremendous percussion work by their tandem of drummers and hypnotic, swirling guitar lines, without losing the structural complexity that has marked nearly all of their work. It might not have received the insane acclaim of Source Tags and Codes, but it’s a more accessible and thoughtful album, led by “The Doomsday Book,” “Jaded Apostles,” “Lie Without a Liar,” and the closer “Sound of the Silk” that just left me on the floor gasping for air.

5. Spoon – They Want My Soul. Spoon has become, for me, the definitive American rock band, or perhaps rock-and-roll band, drawing as they do on influences from throughout rock history while incorporating folk, country, and more current electronic elements in their songs. They Want My Soul was a bounceback of sorts after a pair of less exciting albums, bringing more experimentation and a wider range of styles with barely any hiccups along the way (other than the single “Inside Out”). You’ve heard and probably liked the straightforward singles “Rent I Pay” and “Do You,” but when Spoon get nostalgic on the cover “You Just Don’t Understand” or start playing around with structure and synths on “Outlier” or “Knock Knock Knock” they manage to expand boundaries without losing their ability to craft compelling hooks.

4. HAERTS – Haerts. Three of the five best songs on here appeared on an EP late last year, but that’s not to say the remaining songs on the band’s full-length debut, produced by St. Lucia (who appeared on last year’s list with his own debut album), which all showcase singer Nini Fabi’s powerful, slightly smoky voice over masterfully crafted strata of keyboards and drum machines. “Giving Up” is the best new song and the only one on my top 100 this year, but “Wings,” “Hemiplegia,” and “All the Days” are standouts from their first EP.

3. alt-J – This is All Yours. It wasn’t as groundbreaking or mindblowing as their debut album, An Awesome Wave, my favorite album not just of 2012 but of the decade so far, so I could call This is All Yours a mild letdown … and yet it’s still a work of great imagination and continues the trio’s refusal to work within the conventions of modern music, even within what’s generally called “alternative” but isn’t quite as radical as the name might indicate. This is All Yours is uneven, with a few songs they could just as easily have omitted (“Choice Kingdom” and “Pusher” in particular), but they soar with the manic complexity of “Every Other Freckle,” the slow expansion of “The Gospel of John Hurt,” the four-vocalist gimmick that actually plays on “Warm Foothills,” and the so-bad-it’s good “Left Hand Free.” It’s not as cleanly produced as their debut, unfortunately, which cuts into the atmosphere it creates and stunts the beauty of tracks like “Warm Foothills” or “Hunger of the Pine.”

2. New Pornographers – Brill Bruisers. I don’t know how a collection of singers and songwriters this broad and diverse could push out an album this cohesive, but Brill Bruisers is an ebullient power-pop masterpiece; what it might lack in invention (compared to, say, Twin Cinema) it more than makes up for via its sheer pop brilliance. The title track is one of the best songs of the year, landing in my top 10, but “Dancehall Domine,” “Fantasy Fools,” and “War on the East Coast” all shimmer with gorgeous pop hooks and note-perfect performances across the board.

1. Hundred Waters – The Moon Rang Like a Bell. (amazoniTunes) I never reviewed this album because I didn’t quite get it when I first received it a review copy back in May; it was just too weird, too unconventional, almost the way I never quite got the Cocteau Twins. But I kept coming back to certain songs that stuck with me – “Xtalk,” “Innocent,” “Out Alee” – and realized the issue was that I had to get used to the production, which put singer Nicole Miglis’s voice so front and center that you can almost hear her thinking. This is cerebral music, but that doesn’t mean it requires more of the listener than an open mind; think of Hundred Waters’s songs as the pattern on a lake when hit by a raindrop or a skipped stone, with each track within a song rippling outward on its own to create a gorgeous, cohesive whole. I haven’t heard anything quite like it before, which is something I want to say about any album I’m calling the best of its year.

Saturday five, 12/6/14.

The hot stove was cooking with gas this week, so I managed to get a fair amount of writing done about the various deals, such as …

* Friday’s three-way trade involving the Yanks, Tigers, and Dbacks
* The Andrew Miller contract with the Yankees
* The Nick Markakis deal with Atlanta, with smaller deals like the Happ/Saunders trade included in this post
* The Nelson Cruz deal with Seattle, maybe the worst of the offseason so far

I also posted a review of the two-player deckbuilding game Star Realms late Friday night.

This week’s links…

  • Our Ability To Digest Alcohol May Have Been Key To Our Survival. The common ancestor we share with chimps and gorillas developed an enzyme, ADH4, about 10 million years ago, that enabled them to digest foods that had begun fermentation. You had me at “alcohol,” though.
  • Also via NPR, Why did non-GMO versions of cereals lose their vitamins? Maybe the whole GMO/non-GMO dichotomy isn’t as clean and simple as the labeling advocates (with whom I tend to side) argue it is? Besides, I’ve pointed out before that no GMO foods will mean no more bananas some day soon.
  • So much for the Big Bang’s afterglow, which confirmed the standard theory of cosmology so well that researchers are actually disappointed. By the way, did you know the Big Bang theory was first proposed by a Catholic priest, the Belgian George Lemaître?
  • There were a lot of great (if infuriating) stories this week about hockey blogger/creeper Steve Lepore harassing women via Twitter DMs and Gchat, but this story from the Blonde Side was the best/most infuriating, because it happened so long ago and because Lepore’s boss/editor/some authority figure at the time just blew it off.
  • This ThinkProgress piece argues that a 21st Circuit Court judge could appoint a special prosecutor in Ferguson and try to get a new indictment. I fully concede I’m not a lawyer and don’t know if this is accurate, but a fresh grand jury proceeding with an impartial prosecutor sounds like a good idea for the community. I’d love to hear some lawyers in the audience weigh in on whether this is a legitimate argument and/or whether it would be a smart move.

Star Realms.

My Insider pieces on the Andrew Miller signing by the Yanks and the three-team Yanks/Tigers/Dbacks trade are up for Insiders.

The runaway success of Dominion, which appears twice in the top ten of my boardgame rankings (once for the original game, another for the standalone Intrigue expansion), has spurred a huge boom in deckbuilding games of all stripes, many hybrids that incorporate other game types, but some that just take the basic Dominion formula and tweak it with new themes and slight changes to mechanics. I haven’t seen any takeoffs quite as faithful to Donald Vaccarino’s original game as Star Realms, a Kickstartered two-player deckbuilder that borrows liberally from Dominion, with the primary difference the change in goal from victory points to direct combat.

In Star Realms, each player begins the game with ten cards, seven coin cards worth one monetary unit apiece and three combat cards worth one damage point apiece. On a turn, a player draws a hand of five cards and – stop me if you’ve heard this before – resolves them by making purchases and using action cards. Neither buys nor actions are limited in Star Realms, and action cards come in four different categories (colors) that have some interactive effects if played during the same turn. Each player begins the game with 50 authority points, and the goal is to reduce your opponent’s authority total to zero via attacks.

Each action card has one or more features that can be used any time it’s played, including monetary value, attack points, authority points (like a healing spell), or the ability to scrap (trash) a card from your hand or discard pile (think Chapel strategy if you’re a Dominion fan). Cards may also have a one-time ability that comes from trashing the card, again things like damage or added purchasing power. The interactions between cards allow for rapid gains in powers as the game progresses, and produces a slight benefit to focusing your card purchases in, say, two of the four categories/colors, although in my experience playing dozens of games in the app, you’re better off purchasing the best card available than taking a weaker card just to stay within a preferred color.

Those interactions are particularly useful when you play one or more bases, cards that remain on the table for future turns. Such a move gives you a better chance of one of those interactions the next time around, which can mean doubling your attack points or your cash, or getting the ability to draw another card or trash one. These bases also have their own point values for defense if your opponent chooses to attack one of them and remove the special ability it grants you. Some bases are Outposts, which also prevent your opponent from hitting your main base of authority points until s/he destroys the Outpost too. Unfortunately, once the attack points values start reaching 8-10 regularly by any game’s midpoint, no Outpost is going to survive another turn, which I find one of the game’s biggest flaws – if I play a card to the table intending to use it next turn, but there’s basically no chance it survives that long, then it hasn’t done me much more good than a typical card I’d play and move to my discard pile.

StarRealms

The iPhone/iPad itself is free, but better AIs are in-app purchases and well worth the cost – the free app is just a tutorial, in essence, but the hard AI was good for forcing me to learn some strategy. The campaign in the app is very entertaining because it changes the ground rules and/or starts your opponent with different configurations of cards and points, so the game itself gets a lot of variation. Without that, however, the game would have become stale for me; it’s too much like Dominion, and while the combat angle provides an element of direct competition that the base Dominion game lacks, it’s not like there’s a whole lot you can do to stop your opponent, either, so it’s more a matter of hoping the lumps you take are less than the ones you dish out.

By far the best thing about the physical game is its price: For $12, you get a real game with plenty of replay value that would fit in someone’s stocking. Try putting Power Grid or Agricola in an oversized sock hanging by the chimney and see if you don’t pull the whole mantle down in the process. There are also some expansions (called Crisis, coming in little packets like old-school baseball card packs) coming soon that I expect will address some of the weaknesses in the main game – the minimal utility of bases and the too-strong resemblance to Dominion. Until then, it’s a good game for the price, but more of a trifle than a staple like its ancestor.

Top Chef S12E07.

My Insider post on the Markakis, Torii Hunter, and Saunders/Happ deals is up, and I’ll be chatting today at 1 pm ET.

Here on the dish, I rewrote my annual gift guide for cooks from scratch this year, covering just about anything I own and find useful in the kitchen, as well as a fresh list of my favorite cookbooks.

Now, to this week’s episode … it’s Restaurant Wars! This is always the best episode. I still fondly remember the Restaurant Wars of ’09, which left four chefs and a judge dead among several other casualties.

Top Chef logo

* Barbara Lynch is in the house. She’s the queen of the Boston restaurant scene … but in all the time I lived there I don’t think I ever went to any of her restaurants. My loss, apparently.

* The chefs draw knives to see which two will get to draft the teams. Melissa and Katie make the selections, with Melissa going first. She takes Doug, a mild surprise but perhaps a reaction to Gregory scuffling last time out, after which Katie takes Gregory. Melissa takes Mei and Adam; Katie takes Katsuji and ends up with Keriann by default. Lynch: “Stay focused and less is more.” Her cliché per minute ratio is quite impressive.

* Doug volunteers to be exec chef of his team. Mei wants the job too but says “we all know women are better line cooks.” I’m just going to leave that there. Meanwhile, Adam volunteers for front of house, which makes sense because he’s second only to Katsuji in the never-shutting-up department.

* Katie volunteers to be executive chef, saying that because she owns a pop-up restaurant business she knows what’s required to get a restaurant off the ground quickly. Keriann is front of house. Katsuji says Katie’s good at … “somebody help me to fill in the blank.” Not that I thought he was any kind of gem, but Katsuji reveals himself to be a complete pig in this episode, like saying Keriann’s a good choice for front of house because of how she looks in a dress.

* Katie’s team decides to do an “international menu,” which sounds a lot like “we each want to do whatever we want to do.” Katsuji worries about cohesion on the menu, but neither he nor Gregory (who admits to playing it safe after last episode’s mistakes) puts up much of a fight here.

* The chefs go shopping for furniture, décor, and flatware … which is boring. I’m sure it matters, I know it matters if it sucks, but it’s boring to watch. Let’s cook already.

* Whole Foods has no pork shoulder. How is that possible? I’m not sure I’ve ever been in a Whole Foods that didn’t have one. And I’m pretty sure every pig has two.

* Katie’s team takes their global menu concept and names their restaurant Magellan, apparently unaware that he was hacked to death by Filipino natives before he could finish circumnavigating the globe. The name turns out to be a perfect choice for the ensuing disaster, though.

* Doug’s team calls their restaurant 4 Pigs because they found four quirky piggy banks while décor shopping. There had better be a lot of pork on the menu, right? I’d expect a restaurant with that name to serve barbecue.

* Katsuji says of Doug’s role as head chef, “good for you little thing.” Later we hear him saying, “thirty minutes left … bitches.” And when Keriann has to make her crepes ahead of time because she’ll be front of house, Katsuji says in the confessional that he could offer to make them for her, but won’t because “I only care about myself.” That’s probably the wrong way to approach a team challenge. I’m just saying.

* Doug braises his pork shoulder in PBR. Wouldn’t you want to use a good beer for that?

* Mei freezes the butter for Melissa’s biscuits with liquid nitrogen, so now my own attempts at biscuit-making seem woefully inadequate. I need to make friends with some local chemists.

* Somehow, a whole hotel pan of cleaned clam shells to be used for serving Adam’s starter has gone missing. It’s probably with the pea puree. Meanwhile, he shucks another 130-plus clams to use … but are they really tossing all that meat just to use the shells?

* Team Magellan is already on the rocks. Keriann is training the servers, Katie doesn’t like the way she’s doing it, but she won’t take charge or even speak up. Around here we call that “foreshadowing.”

* Kristen Kish and Stephanie Cmar are there … but I don’t think we get more than two or three words total out of them the whole episode. That seems like a waste, since Kristen actually won her season and Stephanie was extremely funny in hers.

* I admit I had to look this up, but in the argot of the kitchen “all day” means “in total.”

* The server at 4 Pigs didn’t recognize the judges. Really, Padma Lakshmi walks in and you’re like, “oh, there’s an attractive woman I’ve never seen on my television a hundred times?”

* The food starts coming out, finally, with 4 Pigs serving first. Adam’s starter is salt-baked clams with ramps, bacon, and sunflower seeds. Mei’s is chicken liver toast with plum puree. Tom thought Adam’s was a little dense but otherwise strong. Mei’s is good, with some comps to a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (attention Ken Tremendous), which I think may have been the idea – it’s the same concept of a smooth, savory spread with a sweet-tart complement.

* Magellan, meanwhile, is racked with service problems, with dishes going to the wrong tables, servers not knowing the table numbers, and the kitchen badly backed up. Gregory says there’s “no sense of unison” between the front of the house with the back – but he doesn’t speak up either. No one on this team seems to be willing to say anything to anyone else that might seem like taking charge. Katie at least goes to the front of house to try to clear it up, going right to the servers to try to troubleshoot – but really, at this point they’ve taken on too much water to save the ship.

* Doug’s braised pork comes with baked beans, pickled red onions, pickled mustard seeds. So it’s basically a grown-up pork and beans dish, and everyone loves it. Melissa serves seared scallops with radish salad and grapefruit. But the scallop is way too salty and Padma’s face does that thing that cartoon characters used to do when they would accidentally eat alum. Mei’s second dish is fried Brussels sprouts with an anchovy vinaigrette. The judges seem to be picking apart some of the details – maybe a little too much acid – but I just think that’s a dish I’ve seen on lots of menus in the last two years.

* Mei compliments Doug on his expediting skills. Every season one of these restaurants hums and one is a dumpster fire. That may just have been evident a little earlier than normal this year.

* Melissa’s dessert looks unreal – buttermilk biscuit cobbler with apples, mixed berries, and cardamom cream. That is fall in New England all the way. Did Magellan serve a single dish that was really creative, though?

* Back to the circus, Keriann seems to pin the blame for all the trouble on the kitchen. Stephanie Cmar gets some screen time, but it’s just her looking miserable. Meanwhile the judges are left waiting out front because Keriann is busy putting out fires, which always goes over well with Padma.

* The next disaster – I know it’s hard to keep count – comes when Katsuji tries to plate Keriann’s dessert, but finds the banana mousse unspreadable. Gregory and Katsuji do chip in here with ideas to fix it, so there did come a point where they abandoned their me-first stances this episode. Ultimately, Katie takes Gregory’s suggestion to warm the dish up and has Katsuji reheat the crepes in a skillet over simmering water while they also warm the mousse.

* The edit was a little jagged, but we see Katie being completely indecisive between Katsuji and Keriann when debating how much food to send out to the judges at once. You can’t be a leader of any team, even one of four people, if you let everyone push you around, but that’s what happens here – she accedes to any argument she’s given.

* Katie’s starter is roasted beets with Sri Lankan curry, toasted coconut, and pickled cauliflower. The judges all agree that nothing worked together – and you can even see it on the plate. I’m also not sure I’ve ever had a good beet dish without some kind of citrus involved. Katsuji’s hamachi sashimi with roasted poblano, blistered tomato, garlic chips, and citrus-habanero (there’s no tilde over the n, Keriann) salsa seems to just not be awful, while his dry “posole” with chilis, dungeness crab, and chicharrones at least gets points for a creative concept.

* Gregory’s seared haddock with spiced tomato, garam masala, and pickled mushrooms is cooked well, but Tom says should have stopped at fish and tomato. Has Mos Chef hit a midseason slump?

* Gregory’s second dish is better – a hoisin-glazed pork tenderloin, with bay scallops, xo sauce, and broccolini. I just don’t get the love for pork tenderloin. I do eat it, but it’s among the least interesting cuts of pig for both flavor and texture, and the shape means you’ll never really get the whole piece to cook consistently.

* Meanwhile, the grey team barely breaks a sweat as they finish their service. I’m not surprised by Doug, Melissa, and Mei all executing and working well together, but this is two straight challenges where Adam, who was all mouth while Aaron was around, has been a consummate team player.

* Keriann discovers her dessert is hot, not cold. It’s the same components – a vanilla crepe, burnt banana mousse, macerated cherry, ginger, and pistachio – but the temperature change alters the whole dish. There’s no color on the crepes, which is also odd, because color means flavor. Barbara says “you could play hockey with this.”

* Keriann is furious and tries to confront Katie, but Katie just wilts and avoids eye contact. Katsuji, of course, can’t redirect the blame to Katie fast enough.

* 4 Pigs faces the judges first for an entirely positive review – even Melissa’s scallop dish, which may have been their only subpar offering, doesn’t earn a mention. Tom basically says he likes things that are great and good things are fantastic.

* Magellan, on the other hand, might as well have left judges’ table in flames. Tom just starts with two words: “Rough service?” Katie nods and you can see everyone hanging their heads. Padma asks where Keriann was all night because she didn’t see her enough on the floor. Keriann is answering all of the questions, not Katie, even when the latter clearly should be answering if only to say she abdicated her responsibilities. Her beet dish never came together. Keriann’s crepes were soggy, which prompts her to explain that that wasn’t her original dish. Katsuji drops his new catchphrase, “it’s not my call,” at which point Katie at least makes an actual statement, saying “this was not mousse in my opinion.” She didn’t call Keriann for a consult, and Keriann didn’t run back to demand they fix it.

* Keriann didn’t train the staff well, showed no sense of urgency, and her dish was hijacked. Katie tried to fix a bad dish, didn’t hold the team together, wasn’t a leader, and was in over her head. Barbara Lynch just says, “I had a problem with her,” without really elaborating, but it seems like she’s just angry to see a leader fail to lead.

* 4 Pigs win, and the individual winner is Doug for his dish and running the team well. There isn’t much surprising there – Adam could have won for front-of-house service, but usually it’s the team leaders who win or face elimination in Restaurant Wars.

* Magellan loses, and here’s where it gets interesting. Keriann is eliminated for failure to train the staff properly or run the front of house well, but Tom also says she had the “worst dish on the team.” Is it fair to send her home when her dish was altered without her approval, and when she wasn’t the team leader, who, by acclamation, didn’t lead and prepared just one dish that the judges also didn’t like? If front of house is a problem, isn’t the responsibility shared between Keriann and the chef who was, for the purposes of the challenge, her boss? I thought Keriann was the weakest contestant remaining, but based on what we saw on the episode and the history of Restaurant Wars challenges, the decision to send her home rather than Katie seems inapt

* Rankings: Gregory, Mei, Doug, Melissa, Adam, Katsuji, Katie. That top three seems pretty solid at this point. Next week we get both the return of Last Chance Kitchen and the possibility of the return of a previously-eliminated chef (anyone but Aaron, please).

The Teleportation Accident.

I had never heard of Ned Beauman’s The Teleportation Accident before a conversation with a restaurant hostess in August, where she noticed I had a book with me (The Magic Mountain, which, let me tell you, is just a great book to get the ladies interested) and we started chatting about novels, mostly classics. She raved about Beauman’s book so much that I bought it, and just crushed it over about 72 hours this past weekend because it is totally insane, clever, and hilarious, even though I’m not really sure it’s “about” anything at all.

Winner of the peculiar Encore Award (given to the best second novel of the year) and long-listed for the Man Booker Prize (so top twelve), The Teleportation Accident follows the transparently-named Egon Loeser, a set designer in Berlin in the early 1930s who is obsessed with the 17th-century set designer Adriano Lavicini, whose prop “teleportation device” failed in spectacular fashion, killing over two dozen spectators and the designer himself. Loeser is also obsessed with sex, of which he’s not getting any since his breakup with his most recent girlfriend, only to become infatuated with the unfortunately-named Adele Hitler (no relation), whom he eventually chases to Paris and then Los Angeles, where he gets entangled in a giant conspiracy involving an attempt to make an actual teleportation device at CalTech. Through all of these escapades, mostly occurring between 1931 and the end of World War II, Loeser remains blissfully ignorant of the charged political atmosphere around him, even when it puts him or his friends in immediate danger.

That last bit is part of how Beauman subverts almost everything about the modern historical novel – where any other author would insert his protagonist Zelig-like into the major historical events of the era, Beauman keeps Loeser in the dark, makes only oblique references to the rise of Hitler and the Holocaust, and even mocks the standard practice by using a secondary character, the bizarrely-named Scramsfield, who claims to know all the famous people in Paris (referring to James Joyce as “Jimmy”) but actually knows none of them. You expect Loeser to be pushed or dragged along by the force of history, yet every plot twist comes about due to accident or coincidence. This is Zadie Smith’s hysterical realism grafted on to Isherwood’s Berlin, Pynchon’s grandiose plotting with Vonnegut’s cynicism and Fforde’s wit. It’s madcap absurdity without devolving into the impossible (except for one last masterstroke in the final few pages).

Beauman’s decision to make Loeser’s obsession sexual is really a Macguffin, as his long dry spell is more of a plot convenience to keep him chasing after Adele and to push him into these bizarre conspiracies and a sort of meaningless competition with the fatuous English writer Rackenham. In fact, I’m not sure the book is about anything at all, which is probably why the blurb on the back does such a poor job of describing the story. It’s not about sex, and it’s only slightly about Lavicini or teleportation. It is, however, wildly funny, often in ridiculous ways, such as the wealthy car-polish magnate whose agnosia makes him unable to distinguish a picture from reality, so a glass of ginger ale spilled on a map leads him to shout “Ambulance! Thousands drowned!” – and that’s before it deteriorates further into “ontological agnosia,” which might be the most apt description of the book’s central theme (assuming there is one at all).

Also tucked into this bizarre picaresque are a grotesque murder mystery, a quack doctor who claims to promise eternal youth by sewing monkey glands onto your testicles, a conflict over public transportation in Los Angeles, a scientist whose mind (at least) jumps back and forth in twenty-year intervals, and eventually another attempt to tell Lavicini’s story and build another stage version of a teleportation machine. Beauman masterfully ties up all his loose ends in that concluding passage and the three epilogues, each more bonkers than the previous one, yet never veering so far from the central plot’s threads that he can’t narrow it all down to a singularity in the final few words. It’s one of the best books I’ve read all year, and I can’t wait for his next novel, Glow, to come out here in the U.S. in January.

November music update.

My analysis of the Nelson Cruz signing went up yesterday for Insiders, as did my annual gift guide for the home cooks on your list this year, the latter here on the dish.

I’ve already begun sketching out my top 100 tracks of 2014 list as well as a ranking of my favorite albums of the year, but I’m holding that until after baseball’s winter meetings, which are next week in San Diego, just to steal myself another week or so to make sure I haven’t missed any songs I’ll regret omitting. In the meantime, here’s one more monthly playlist to tide you over, with a few songs that will appear on the year-end ranking.

Kele – Closer. Bloc Party’s lead singer goes in a totally different direction in his solo work, with elements of trip-hop, two-step, and more traditional electronica. The album is uneven, but “Closer” is its best track between the tempo changes and the duet with an unknown female artist (I can’t find proper credits for the track anywhere).

TV on the Radio – Lazerray. I was psyched for their latest album, Seeds, to come out, but was mildly disappointed in how much of it is 1) mid-tempo or slower and 2) vaguely commercial-sounding. When they really let ‘er rip, they’re at their best; “Lazerray” should bring back memories of last year’s one-off single “Mercy” or their first crossover hit, 2006’s “Wolf Like Me.”

Young Fathers – Get Up. Young Fathers were the surprise winners of the 2014 Mercury Prize; this British rap trio’s album Dead was … well, let’s just say I wouldn’t have given it the award. But “Get Up” winks back at ’60s/’70s Motown-era soul in the chorus, and YF’s technical shortcomings are far less evident because the verses are tight and the music is strong.

King Tuff – Black Moon Spell. That fuzzed-out guitar riff seems lifted off some lost ’70s vinyl, maybe a Thin Lizzy B-side, and the slight shift into a minor chord when it repeats the second time through each chorus is just perfect. I’m a sucker for a distorted lead guitar hook.

Dreamers – Wolves. Indie-rock with a good sense of melody, not terribly distinguished (so far) from a few dozen other bands with similarly ungoogleable names, but with the benefit of some early support on Sirius XM that at least is getting this strong lead single (“and if you lie down with wolves/learn to howl”) some airplay in advance of their debut album, due next year.

Death from Above 1979 – Always On. I didn’t know these guys did heavy, but the grinding guitar riff overpowers the grunge-pop drum and vocal lines here to take the song beyond the generic.

Ex Cops – Black Soap. I actually assumed Ex Cops were from somewhere in Scandinavia, just based on their sparse arrangements and lead singer Amalie Brunn’s voice (turns out she’s Danish, but the band is based in Brooklyn). I guess she was involved in a controversy earlier this year when she put out a dark metal record under the name Myrkur without revealing her identity, to which I give a giant ¯\_(?)_/¯. Anyway, “Black Soap” is a solid alt-pop track that’s gotten some quick buzz thanks in part to the involvement of Billy Corgan in producing the record. Not to be confused with Futurecop, which also put out an album last month.

Empires – Please Don’t Tell My Lover. It’s electro-pop, I think, but the guitar riff is more pronounced than most tracks in that subgenre, which is worth extra points in my book.

Dan Sultan – Under Your Skin. Winner of the ARIA award for Best Rock Album for his Blackbird (just $5.99 on iTunes right now) this year, Sultan is an Australian Aborigine singer/songwriter who draws deeply on 1960s/1970s soul sounds … which a lot of folks do these days, but Sultan actually pulls it off without sounding a bit like a fraud. “The Same Man” is the other standout track from Blackbird, but I like “Under Your Skin” best for its snarling intro riff and tight two-and-half minute run time.

Stars – This is the Last Time/Trap Door. Stars made my 2012 top 40 with their New Order-mimicking “Hold On When You Get Love.” Their latest album doesn’t plow any new soil at all; they’re playing it very safe, hewing close to their new-wave inspirations, but they do that sound particularly well, regardless of which vocalist takes the helm. The former has a hint of New Pornographers when Neko Case takes the mic; the latter is the song that reminded me most of that 2012 standout track.

Broncho – Class Historian. This song is going to annoy me if I listen it too much, due to that weird “duh-duh-duh” thing they do every thirty seconds, and I don’t love tracks that overproduce the vocals to make them sound low and distant, but there’s a decent pop hook underneath here and I think the song’s going to get a ton of airplay.

CHVRCHES – Get Away. Mentioned earlier this year, now available on Spotify. The song is from the BBC’s “re-scoring” of the movie Drive.

Banks – Waiting Game. Yeah, “Begging for Thread” is the best song from her Goddess album, but I figure you’ve probably heard that already; this was my second-favorite.

My 2014 gift guide for cooks.

My analysis of the Mariners’ deal with Nelson Cruz is up for Insiders.

I’ve seen a few “Christmas gift guides for the cooks in your life!” go by already this fall, but most of them are like this one from Grub Street, with recommendations for things that no one could possibly need – a “rosemary stripper” (I have two of those; I call them “hands”); a “banana slicer” (use your paring knife, genius); a $140 toaster (makes toast); and a $1600 set of Thomas Keller-branded pans, which, unless he forged them personally out of pure adamantium, are a colossal fucking waste of money. These are not gifts to by the cook in your life; these are gifts to buy the person in your life who pretends to cook but really just likes playing with toys. Toys don’t make you a better chef; they just make you a less socially responsible one.

I do have a few pricier toys in my kitchen, but aside from one, they’re all highly functional, at the middle to low end of the price range for their jobs, and built to last a long time. I’ve had my chef’s knife for over a decade, my food processor for 17 years (new bowl but original motor), my Dutch oven for about eight years, and just replaced my 18-year-old stand mixer when we moved last June. You are free to call me cheap, but I think I’m just prudent. I’ll spend money in the kitchen if it gets me something I need. I will not spend money to get a famous name, a fancy design, or a paperweight to live at the back of a gadget drawer until we move again. If I can make do with something I already have in the house – binder clips, a (clean) putty knife, a (clean) paintbrush – I’ll gladly do that instead. I’d rather be cheap when it doesn’t matter and spend the money when half price means a quarter of the value.

Therefore, what I recommend here – for your cheffy friends or for yourself – is largely what I own and use. If what I own isn’t available, or isn’t good value for the price, I recommend something else. I am also willing to answer any and all questions about these or other suggestions; if I include it here, that’s an endorsement that it’ll be money well spent. I’ve already posted my cookbook recommendations in a separate entry.

The most important tool for any cook is a good chef’s knife, and I love my Henckels 8″ chef’s knife, the “four-star” model (which just refers to the handle style). It’s a workhorse, has only needed professional sharpening once, and is a comfortable grip and weight for my rather small hands. However, it’s $100, and I doubt it’s worth the premium over the $30 Victorinox 8″ chef’s knife, which America’s Test Kitchen has long recommended and, therefore, so have I.

The basic knives any home cook must have are a chef’s knife, a paring knife, and a bread (serrated) knife. The bread knife is good for more than just slicing bread – serrated blades are safer for slicing tomatoes, and they’re excellent for chopping chocolate and other hard foods. I have another Henckels four-star model, also eight inches, but the same blade is available with a different handle for just $9. You might look at a 10” blade if you get a lot of large, artisanal loaves. Any strong paring knife will do, such as this OXO 3.5″ paring knife for $7. With a modicum of knife skills, you can tweak and hull strawberries with one of these without any risk to your fingers or waste of fruit. It’s also good for cutting citrus supremes, slicing apples and pears, pitting olives and cherries, and other fine-motor-skills work.

I do have two other knives I use frequently, but they’re not essential for most cooks. One is the santoku, a very sharp knife with a thin edge but wide body that’s ideal for slicing vegetables and hard fruits; I recommend a 7” blade, which you can get in this two-santoku Henckels set for $21 and just … I don’t know, regift the 5” version or something, because I can’t see any use for it. I also own this exact Henckels boning knife, which is ideal for breaking down a whole chicken – it’s substantially cheaper to buy a whole chicken (sometimes called a broiler-fryer, usually 3-5 pounds total weight) and cut it into parts, and you get the bones to make stock – or for deboning other cuts of meat like short ribs. Some folks recommend a flexible blade instead, but I have never used that kind so I can’t give an opinion. I do not own a home sharpener.

My pots and pans aren’t a single set any more; I have some remnants from an All-Clad anodized aluminum set I got with rewards points in 2001, but have swapped out certain pieces to get better nonstick (coated) skillets. What you really should get for your loved one (you may include yourself in that category) is a a 12″ Lodge cast-iron skillet, an absolute workhorse that can handle about 90% of what I need from a skillet or a saute pan. I still use a nonstick skillet for egg dishes, and a saucier (sadly one that’s no longer made) for sauces or custards, but the Lodge skillet is past a decade old and just keeps getting better. The work of seasoning them is nowhere near as arduous as you’ve heard.

If you want to splurge on something, get an enameled cast-iron Dutch oven, great for soups, stews, braises, deep-frying, jam-making, and caramelizing huge batches of onions. Cast-iron doesn’t distribute heat well, but it holds heat for a long time. These pots are heavy, but I use mine for every saucepan duty that doesn’t involve boiling water or cooking grains on their own. They go stove to oven (as do the skillets) and can take the hours of low heating required for a proper braise. I own a Le Creuset that I got on sale at an outlet store because the color was discontinued; if you’re not quite that fortunate, try the 7.8 quart Lodge model for $85.


                           Isn’t she lovely?

I don’t own a proper mandolin slicer, but I do pretty well with a handheld mandolin for about $20 that works great for things like root-vegetable chips or thinly slicing onions. I love this digital instant-read thermometer, which at $10 is cheap enough that I don’t feel bad when inevitably I drop it into something and ruin it. (I’ve only done that once.) Amazon tells me that I bought my Microplane classic grater in November of 2003, and I’ve had their coarse grater for almost that long. The former is great for zesting citrus fruits or grating nutmeg; the latter is ideal for creating a snowfall of hard cheese over a pasta dish. In that same 2003 order, I bought my first Silpat silicone baking mat; I now own two and won’t bake cookies without them.

I own two scales – a chef I’m friends with on Twitter made fun of me for this – one, this American Weigh pocket scale for weights up to about 2 kg, which is ideal for precise measurements like grams of coffee (more on that in a moment), and a larger scale that’s long discontinued. This $13 Ozeri scale looks like a more than adequate replacement, measuring up to 12 kg; I rarely need to measure more than about two pounds of anything, maybe a little more for some large-batch baking but that’s about it. You need at least one good scale if you’re serious about baking, though; the best bread and pastry recipes all use grams, not cups or liters. I’ve also done horrible things to this digital oil and candy thermometer over the ten years or so that I’ve had it, including making forty or more batches of jam, dozens of batches of macarons, and engaging in numerous deep-frying experiments, and it still rocks. You absolutely must have one of these to make caramel, any kind of jam or preserves, or true buttercream frosting.

Other things I always appreciate getting or often end up buying for myself: Wooden spatulas (not spoons), silicone spatulas, good (not decorative) metal measuring spoons, Pyrex or similar measuring cups for liquids (never measure liquids in a plastic cup designed for measuring solids).

Now, for the expensive stuff:
* I believe this Cuisinart classic 7-Cup food processor is what I own; we got ours in 1996, and in all that time I’ve just had to replace the plastic bowl, which cracked during a move. At $100, it is an essential, at least in my mind; it makes so many things easier, from pie doughs and biscuits to pesto and hummus and nut butters and mayonnaise (although I do that by hand because I’m a wacko) … and the pumpkin pie I make every Thanksgiving.

* I have this Vitamix 1782 TurboBlend “food preparing machine” (it’s a blender, stupid), and it’s amazing. I can make smooth vegetable soups with it, no cream required; don’t toss those broccoli stalks, just peel, quarter, and roast them, then blend them with some vegetable stock and season to taste, maybe with some basil oil and toasted pumpkin seeds on top. It’s nearly $400, however, too much if you’re just making milkshakes and smoothies (and there is nothing wrong with just making milkshakes and smoothies). You’ll probably be fine with just a basic blender and the food processor.

* I have the 5-quart KitchenAid stand mixer, which is down to $229 right now after a $50 rebate. I kind of wish I had the next model up, mostly for bread-baking, which is still a bit of a chore for this model, but it’s great for everything else – mixing up cookie dough, brownie batter, quick breads, whipped cream, and Italian meringues (for macarons). The pasta-maker attachment is overpriced, but it does the job, and the grinder attachment has been good for me in a handful of uses, especially for turning stale bread into bread crumbs.

* Coffee is my big kitchen weakness, at least when it comes to spending money; I’m fortunate to have a few friends in the industry (whom I met through social media) who work for direct-trade roasters and have tipped me off to good sources of coffee and helped me pay for the gear I own, which is wonderful but expensive. The Baratza Virtuoso burr grinder is the least expensive grinder of its kind and caliber; when my first one had an issue with the motor, I sent a quick video of it jamming to Baratza and had a new machine within two weeks. I do make pour-over coffee at home using this 8 ceramic dripper, but my preference is espresso, for which I use a Rancilio Silvia machine that is a wonder. The boiler is huge, so it bounces back quickly between shots and you can heat up the steam wand before your shots go cold. If you get your ratios right (for me it’s 17.5 to 19 grams per double shot, depending on the bean and roast), you’ll get great crema, 32-35 grams of output in 25-30 seconds, with almost no bad pulls. I use it every morning and I miss it when I travel.

I’m also a big fan and customer of Penzey’s, a chain of spice stores that also does a brisk mail-order business. They offer gift boxes and a la carte purchases; I buy nearly all my bulk spices from them as well as vanilla beans and Dutch-processed cocoa powder. Buy a box of bay leaves and a jar of whole nutmeg seeds and the recipient will have reason to remember your gift for years to come.

Saturday five, 11/29/14.

I know a lot of you are new to the dish – welcome, thanks for stopping by – so here’s the point of this post. On most Saturdays, I put together two sets of links, one to everything I wrote for my day job over the last seven days, and another to interesting articles (originally just five, but that’s more of a minimum now) from the same period, usually about non-baseball topics like science or food. Comments are welcome as long as everyone’s civil, and I’m always taking suggestions for links for the next post.

I was as busy with baseball posts as I’ve been during any previous Thanksgiving week, with five over the last five days:

* The Josh Donaldson trade
* Arizona signing Yasmani Tomas
* Boston signing Pablo Sandoval
* Boston signing Hanley Ramirez
* The White Sox’ and A’s’ signings from last weekend

I’ve also been updating my offseason guides/rankings, with the top 60 boardgames ranking before I went dark on Twitter and the favorite cookbooks guide right after.

And now, the weekly links:

  • At this time of year, many people with disposable income will think about giving money to charity – it’s the holiday spirit, or maybe just advice from the accountant. NPR’s The Salt has a great piece up on what goods to donate to food pantries. A little thought goes a long way. Food pantries can always, always use money, which, since I seldom buy canned foods anyway, is my preferred method of helping – and since food pantries focus on small, achievable goals, they’re among the best places to donate.
  • Two good pieces I read this week about Ferguson, Missouri, and the murder of Michael Brown: This piece by Prof. Carol Anderson from the Washington Post, arguing that the core issue is “white rage” against racial progress; and a piece from the British left-wing paper The Guardian, annotating the grand jury decision with critical notes on subtext.
  • The Embryo Project at Arizona State tweeted me this link to their site, on Charles Darwin’s study of embryos as part of his argument in favor of evolution as the mechanism behind the origins of species. Speaking of which, this graphic plotting countries’ GDP against what percent of their populations believe in evolution is distressing. But there’s good news – ornithologists discovered a new bird species on the Indonesian island of Sulawesi.
  • A little basic for this crowd, but this Washington Post piece reminds you not to ask for antibiotics when you have a cold.
  • A powerful piece from the New York Times by a mother, remembering the Thanksgiving her then two-year-old son spent in intensive care.
  • Maybe it was buried by Ferguson and the holiday, but the news that Alaska’s Mount Pavlof went boom again this past week should have gotten a lot more play. The eruption column reached nine miles; by comparison, the 1991 eruption of Mount Pinatubo, which was so powerful that it lowered global temperatures for the next year-plus, reached twelve miles.

Everything and More: A Compact History of Infinity.

I knew David Foster Wallace was brilliant when I read Infinite Jest, a wildly imaginative, sprawling novel that showcased DFW’s prodigious vocabulary as well as his deep knowledge of a variety of seemingly unrelated subjects. Even with that background, I was flabbergasted by Everything and More: A Compact History of Infinity, in which DFW delves into abstract set theory and other similarly abstruse topics from the history of math, explaining much of it lucidly and with humor until he gets too close to the finish to avoid relying on the reader to understand more of set theory than most readers will.

The book is less an explanation of the number infinity – which isn’t a single number, at least not in the sense that 1 or 5 or π or √2 – than the history of mathematicians’ attempts to deal with it. DFW starts with the Greeks, where most math stories begin anyway, even though the Greeks didn’t like or accept infinity or zero or the irrationals. (Zero came from Indian mathematicians, and reached Europe by way of Arab mathematicians quite a bit later.) The Greeks encountered questions around infinity, particularly in the famous paradoxes of Zeno, who liked to play semantic games around what we now refer to as convergent series – a sum of a series of terms that never ends but that approaches a specific limit as the number of terms grows. (In a related note, DFW fails to answer the question of how Zeno never got punched in the face for coming up with these paradoxes.) This discomfort with infinity continued through the writings of Aristotle and the Catholic Church’s influence over all manner of academic research, which included the idea that infinity was the sole province of God rather than of man, meaning we never got anywhere with infinity until the end of the Dark Ages and the separation of mathematics and religion during the Renaissance.

The pace of the narrative picks up at that point thanks to the explosion of advances in math and related areas of science. The empirical foundation that limited mathematical explorations until the 1600s is tossed aside in favor of more abstract thinking, with appearances by Kepler, Newton, and my homeboy Galileo, as trigonometry and eventually calculus displace geometry as the central philosophy guiding mathematical thinking and what we now think of as number theory. DFW presents an extraordinarily clear explanation of calculus, especially the infitesimals that underpin differentiation and integration and, as the name implies, connect it to the main topic of the book. The goal here is to get to Georg Cantor, the brilliant and mentally ill mathematician whose work remains the foundation of modern set theory and who was the first to recognize that there are different degrees of infinity (ℵ0 and ℵ1, at the least) but died unable to prove that those two infinities had no other infinities between them.

DFW’s writing is clear and witty thoughout the book, with many examples drawn from a former professor of his that help elucidate many of the more recondite concepts around infinity. His explanations of one-to-one mapping and Cantor’s diagonalization method of proving that real numbers are nondenumerable are outstanding, especially the latter, which I knew was true but still wanted to disbelieve because it just sounds impossible. Unfortunately, in the last 40-50 pages of the book, DFW gets so far down the set theory rabbit-hole that I found it increasingly hard to follow, such as discussions of ordinality versus cardinality and power sets of power sets. I got off the math train in college after multivariate calculus with vectors, in part because continuing meant pushing into more abstract areas – linear algebra was the next course, which starts the shift from empirical math to abstract – but that left me a little lost as Everything and More slid into Cantor’s work on the various infinities and work on numerability of sets.

Cantor’s transfinite numbers are the real goal of the narrative here, rather than what I would call the lay opinion of ∞ (what Cantor referred to as “absolute infinity”). A transfinite number is infinite in that it is greater than all of the finite numbers, but has some properties in common with the finites. If you’re familiar with the ℵ0 I mentioned above – the first transfinite cardinal number, corresponding to the number of members (cardinality) of the set of natural numbers (non-negative integers). Cantor’s continuum hypothesis, which appeared first on the famous list of unsolved math problems David Hilbert presented in 1900, posited that there was no set with cardinality (number of members) between the natural numbers and the real numbers (the cardinality of which Cantor designated as ℵ1). The hypothesis itself may be unprovable, at least within the confines of Zermelo-Fraenkel set theory … which DFW mentions but doesn’t explain, concluding instead with the explanation that later work by Kurt Gödel (the incompleteness guy) and Paul Cohen (who proved that the hypothesis and the ZFC’s axiom of choice were independent) set the question aside without really solving it. At least, I think that’s what he said, because I was just barely treading water by the final page. Which also made me wonder if all of these reviewers quoted as giving the book raves actually finished and understood the whole thing; I imagine the number of people who have sufficient math background to follow DFW down to the bitter end is pretty small.

Apropos of nothing else, the biggest laugh I got from the book was when DFW referred to a mathematician as a world-class pleonast, which is the pot writing a three-page letter to the editor about the mote in the kettle’s eye.

Next up: Ned Beauman’s 2012 novel The Teleportation Accident, recommended by a fellow bibliophile I met in New York in August.

Cookbook recommendations, 2014.

I can never decide whether to copy and update last year’s post or to rewrite it from scratch, but this year chose the latter course of action to try to reflect how I’m cooking and using cookbooks right now in my (brand-new!) kitchen. I’ve grouped them into categories: The essentials, which any home cook regardless of experience level should own; the advanced books for expert home cooks; a few cookbooks from Top Chef-affiliated folks that I recommend; and bread-baking books, all by one author because I’ve never needed any others.

Essentials

There are now two cookbooks that I insist any home cook have. One is the venerable Joy of Cooking, revised and altered through many editions (I own the 1997, now out of print), but still the go-to book for almost any common dish you’re likely to want to make. The recipes take a very easy-to-follow format, and the book assumes little to no experience or advanced technique. I still use it all the time, including their basic bread stuffing (dressing) recipe every Thanksgiving, altered just with the addition of a diced red bell pepper.

The other indisputable must-have cookbook is, of course, Ruhlman’s Twenty, by the best food writer going today, Michael Ruhlman. The book comprises twenty chapters, each on a technique or core ingredient, with a hundred recipes, lots of essays to explain key concepts or methods, and photographs to help you understand what you’re cooking. It’s my most-used cookbook, the first cookbook gift I give to anyone looking to start a collection, and an absolute pleasure to read and re-read. Favorite recipes include the seared pork tenderloin with butter and more butter; the cured salmon; the homemade mayonnaise (forget the stuff in the jar, it’s a pale imitation); the pulled pork; all three duck recipes; the scrambled eggs with goat cheese (using a modified double-boiler method, so you get something more like custard than rubber); and the homemade bacon. I’m trying his weekday coq au vin recipe tonight, too. Many of these recipes appear again in his more recent book, Egg: A Culinary Exploration of the World’s Most Versatile Ingredient, along with more egg basics and a lot of great dessert recipes; and Twenty itself builds on Ruhlman’s Ratio, which shows you master formulas for things like doughs and sauces so you can understand the fundamentals of each recipe and extend as you see fit.

Baking Illustrated is the perfect one-book kitchen reference for all things baked – cookies, cakes, pies, breads, and more. It’s full of standards, tested to ensure that they will work the first time. You’ll need a scale to get maximum use from the book. I use their pie crust recipe, their peach pie recipe, their snickerdoodles recipe (kids love it, but moms seem to love it even more…), and I really want to try their sticky toffee pudding recipe. The prose can be a little cloying, but I skip most of that and go right to the recipes because I know they’ll succeed the first time.

If I know someone already has Ruhlman’s Twenty, my next gift choice for them is Nigel Slater’s Tender: A Cook and His Vegetable Patch, a book about vegetables but not strictly vegetarian. (There’s a lot of bacon here.) Each vegetable gets its own section, with explanations on how to grow it, how to choose it at the market, a half-dozen or more basic ways to cook it, and then a bunch of specific recipes, some of which are just a paragraph and some of which are a full page with glorious pictures accompanying them. The stuffed peppers with ground pork is a near-weekly occurrence in this house, and the warm pumpkin scone is the only good reason to buy and cook an actual pumpkin. I own but have yet to cook from his sequel on fruit, Ripe: A Cook in the Orchard.

You know, a lot of people will tell you go get Julia Child’s classic books on French cuisine, but I find the one I have (Mastering the Art) to be dated and maddeningly unspecific in its directions. Julia’s Kitchen Wisdom is a slimmer, much more useful book that focuses on the basics – her explanation of vinaigrettes is still the gold standard, and her gift for distilling recipes and techniques into simple little explanations shines here without the fuss of three-day recipes for coq au vin. Oh, that’s in here too, but she does it in two and a half hours.

Experts

The Flavor Bible isn’t actually a cookbook, but a giant cross-referencing guide where each ingredient comes with a list of complementary ingredients or flavors, as selected by a wide range of chefs the authors interviewed to assemble the book. It’s the book you want to pull out when your neighbor gives you a few handfuls of kale or your local grocery store puts zucchini on sale and you don’t know what to do with them. Or maybe you’re just tired of making salmon the same way and need some fresh ideas. The book doesn’t tell you how to cook anything, just what else to put on the plate. Spoiler: Bacon and butter go with just about everything. I gave a lot more detail on this book in last year’s guide.

Yotam Ottolenghi’s Plenty is an outstanding vegetable-focused cookbook that uses no meat ingredients (but does use dairy and eggs), although Ottolenghi’s restaurant uses meats and he offers a few suggestions on pairing his recipes with meat dishes. The recipes here are longer and require a higher skill level than those in Tender, but they’re restaurant-quality in flavor and presentation, including a mushroom ragout that I love as a main course over pappardelle with a poached egg (or two) on top and my favorite recipe for preparing Belgian endives (a pinch of sugar goes a long way). As of this writing, the kindle edition is only $2.99, over 90% off the hardcover price.

Thomas Keller’s Bouchon Bakery is is easily the best baking book I’ve ever seen, but unlike Baking Illustrated, the recipes are written for people who are more skilled and incredibly serious about baking. Ingredients are measured to the gram, and the recipes assume a full range of techniques. It has the best macaron recipe I’ve ever found – close second is I Love Macarons, suggested to me by Richard Blais’ pastry chef at the Spence, Andrea Litvin – and has the homemade Oreo recipe I made for Halloween (but you need black cocoa and real white chocolate to do it right).

Bobby Flay has an absurd number of cookbooks out there, but the one I like is from his flagship restaurant Mesa Grill, which includes the signature items (including the blue and yellow cornbread) and a broad cross-section of dishes. There’s no instruction here at all, however, just a lot of recipes, many of which have an absurdly long list of ingredients.

For the really hardcore, Harold McGee’s On Food and Cooking: The Science and Lore of the Kitchen is an essential kitchen reference, full of explanations of the chemistry of cooking that will make you a smarter cook and help you troubleshoot many problems at the stove. I haven’t read it straight through – it’s 700-plus pages – but I’ll go to the index and pull out some wisdom as needed. It also explains why some people (coughmecough) never acquired the taste for strongly-flavored cheeses.

Top Chef Division

Richard Blais’ Try This at Home has become a staple in my kitchen both for about a half-dozen specific recipes in here that we love (his sweet potato gnocchi are now a Thanksgiving tradition for us; the lemon curd chicken is at least a twice-a-month dish around here and perfect for guests) and for the creativity it inspires. Blais has lots of asides on techniques and ingredients, and if you actually read the text instead of just blindly following the recipes, you’ll get a sense of the extensibility of the basic formulas within the book, even though he isn’t as explicit about it as Ruhlman is.

Top Chef judge Hugh Acheson’s A New Turn in the South and season one winner Harold Dieterle’s Kitchen Notebook have both recently entered my cookbook rotation as well. Acheson’s book reads the way he speaks – there’s a lightly sardonic aspect to much of his writing so that it comes off more like you’re hanging out with the guy, talking food, rather than taking instruction. His bacon-wrapped whole fish recipe is unbelievable, more for the powerful aromatics (winner, best use of fennel) than for the bacon itself. Dieterle’s book requires a lot of harder-to-find ingredients, but his side essays on specific ingredients run from the mundane to the esoteric and drop a ton of knowledge on how to choose and how to use. My particular struggle with both books is that they use a lot of seafood, with Dieterle’s including a ton of shellfish; my wife is allergic to shellfish, so I don’t even bring that into the house any more, which requires some substitutions and means there are some recipes I just have to set aside.

I’ll mention here that several readers have suggested Edward Lee’s Smoke and Pickles to me as one of the best of the many Top Chef contestant books out there, but I do not currently own it.

Bread

I’ve owned and given away or sold a lot of bread-baking books, because nothing has been able to beat the two masterworks by baker/instructor Peter Reinhart, The Bread Baker’s Apprentice and Whole Grain Breads. Reinhart’s books teach you how to make artisan or old-world breads using various starters, from overnight bigas to wild-yeast starters you can grow and culture on your countertop. If that seems like a little much, his Artisan Breads Every Day takes it down a notch for the novice baker, with a lot of the same recipes presented in a simpler manner, without so much emphasis on baker’s formulas. His pizza dough recipes are fantastic, and unlike a lot of the crap I’ve found online or in other books, you don’t need any sugar to make them.

And finally, while it’s not a cookbook, Anthony Bourdain’s first book, Kitchen Confidential, is just $2.99 right now for Kindle, and it’s a riot regardless of whether you like to cook.