The Golden Notebook.

I’ve got a piece up today previewing the top 30 prospects for the 2013 draft.

Do you know what people really want? Everyone, I mean. Everybody in the world is thinking: I wish there was just one other person I could really talk to, who could really understand me, who’d be kind to me. That’s what people really want, if they’re telling the truth.”

Doris Lessing’s The Golden Notebook, #48 on The Novel 100 and part of the TIME 100, is apparently a landmark in feminist literature as well as a rumination on the empty promises of communism, written by an author who had herself become disillusioned with both the philosophy and the British branch of the Party. Lessing attacks the novel’s traditional structure with a post-modern twist, weaving five narratives together across roughly 600 pages before the book culminates in one short story that attempts to reconcile fact with her protagonist’s own literary voice, a structure that challenges as it confuses.

That protagonist, Anna Wulf, is a divorced mother of a young daughter and a once-successful writer who has spent years unable to write a follow-up to her one novel, a wartime story that was commercially and critically successful and now spawns a series of comical attempts by English and American producers to film a bastardized version of it that takes its name but scarcely any of its plot. Anna and her best friend, Molly, are both little-c communists who have drifted out of the party and are gradually sliding into a passive socialism, which becomes a central conflict between Molly and her ex-husband, a successful financier, over their joint custody of their son, Tommy.

The golden notebook of the title doesn’t appear until the end of the novel, but we do read four other notebooks Anna has kept over the years, recounting her experiences with a group of white communist activists in Rhodesia, her time in the British Communist Party, an unfinished novel based on her own doomed love affair with a married man, and a more traditional journal where she records more mundane events as well as dreams and conversations with her therapist. The golden notebook represents her attempt to use fiction to bring together all four narratives as well as the more recent events of her life with Molly and a love/hate affair she has with an American communist who fled the blacklist and McCarthyist movement.

The one other distinguishing feature of The Golden Notebook is its unusually frank and graphic depictions of sex and biological functions, not unusual today but certainly so for the era in which it was published, particularly since its author is female. I imagine the novel was shocking in its time, although I was more surprised at how perfunctory the descriptions of sex were, not just anti-romantic, but clinical and sometimes even violent. The passage on menstruation is just as graphic, so while I saw it as an obvious metaphor for her own anger over societal prescriptions on gender roles, I also found it shocking to see a female writer write something so critical of her own female-ness, even if it was solely in a biological sense.

The narrative structure of the novel makes sense given where Lessing is taking us, but I found it incredibly confusing because of the shifts in time and the use of metafiction that is itself a thinly-veiled rendition of an actual life event belonging to the novel’s central character. It’s a hard book to put down for a day and return to without some thought as to who’s on the stage and in what time period the current scene is taking place. As someone who reads quickly, I found that offputting, even though Lessing’s efforts to converge all five narratives in that final bit of metafiction in the golden notebook are ultimately successful and likely part of why this novel remains a critical favorite.

I also found the metafictional Anna much more difficult to empathize with than the “real” Anna, who is herself flawed but more able to view her own decisions clearly, because the fictional version is the authoress of her own destruction within the book. The fact that her paramour is a lying cad can’t excuse her from failing to see that her involvement with a married man who has no intention of abandoning his wife – and whose wife is clearly suffering from her husband’s infidelities – or from the consequences when he inevitably flees from the affair as well.

The Golden Notebook fits in with many of the critically-acclaimed novels I read from these “greatest books” lists, an intelligent, thought-provoking, well-written book that deals with the larger (or largest) issues in life, but ultimately falls short on plot and character. I never felt driven to find out what was going to happen with the central characters, and the one Big Event within the book is dealt with swiftly enough that it becomes secondary to Anna’s journals. That all makes it a good book in terms of quality, but not one I’d be driven to read again.

Next up: I just finished Sergio de la Pava’s strange, often darkly funny debut novel A Naked Singularity (just $5.13 on Kindle) and have started Jonathan Lethem’s sci-fi hard-boiled detective novel Gun, with Occasional Music, the latter an old recommendation from one of you.

Top Chef Masters, S4E5.

Today’s Klawchat transcript is up, and I wrote up the Under Armour All-American game for the draft blog.

* Quickfire: Cook for the Indigo Girls, who look old. The B-52s were a weird enough choice, but why the Indigo Girls? They’re judging a group of the best chefs in the country? The challenge is to prepare two related dishes, one with meat, and one vegetarian, with $5K and immunity on the line.

* Takashi tells an interesting story about lacking a fridge in his house while growing up, so they’d get tofu from the “tofu guy” coming by the house. That seems like such an incredible anachronism today … and yet something that we’ve lost too, that kind of contact with our food sources, and the idea of cooking food that was just picked or butchered or in the case of tofu lightly processed.

* Awful Chris, usually the most off the wall of everyone, goes pretty straightforward with a beef bordelaise and a portobello version, both with the same sides. That feels a little like a punt to me – the same dish twice with only one ingredient change? I get substituting portobello – which is just an overgrown cremini and, to my palate, a fairly bland mushroom – for beef, but the mushroom requires different treatment and works with different flavors than the steak does.

* Kerry’s chicken with olives and herb flan with olives looked as boring as hell. Is there a less interesting protein in the kitchen than chicken? I try to cook it as infrequently as possible because unless you marinate it for hours, chicken breast has marginally more flavor than wallpaper paste.

* We get what I think is our first outright failure of the season when Patricia tries to play Beat the Time … and loses, failing to get her broth into her pho bowls in time for judging. At least they allowed her to serve the broth after judging, although I don’t see why, on Masters, they couldn’t just allow her to finish plating after the time while disqualifying her from consideration for the prize?

* Art mentions that he’s from the south. Drink.

* Anyway, the three favorites are Art’s, Takashi’s, and Lorena’s. Art makes two pot pies and his vegetarian version, wild mushroom and arugula with a “Parmesan” and cheddar crust, looked and sounded way better than the regular chicken version with a cheddar biscuit crust, which sounded like something you’d get at Cracker Barrel. My one quibble with Art’s vegetarian version is that it lacks protein, so it’s kind of weak for a main course. I do make pot pies in the winter and usually add some kind of legume, like lima beans, to balance the nutritional content. Lorena goes with arepa dumpling soup with queso and a chicken salad arepa – again with the chicken, but still, arepas rock. Takashi wins with two agedashi tofu (deep-fried tofu cubes) dishes, one with pork and ginger, the other with eggplant and other veg. Obviously I didn’t taste any of these, but I can’t imagine a fried tofu dish coming close to an arepa or a pot pie for pure satisfaction. That’s $15K for Takashi and am-munity per Curtis.

* Elimination challenge: Playmate Holly Madison is having a cocktail pool party and wants a brunch buffet, but with canapé sized dishes and no garlic or onions. Why don’t we just get her views on vaccines too? Chefs have two hours to cook plus an hour to plate the next day.

* Art mentions that he’s gay. Drink.

* Art and Awful Chris are bickering. Drink.

* Thierry is struggling with temperature on the flat top. Note to future Top Chef contestants: Bring an infrared thermometer. I don’t care if you have to smuggle the thing into the kitchen in your underwear. You will be glad you had it.

* To the food. Art makes a turkey burger on a biscuit with a garlic chutney. Holly identifies the garlic as ginger before Curtis sets her straight, so I guess a box of rocks is actually smarter than a pair of cans. Judges love it.

* Thierry makes a croque-madame with bechamel and tomato vodka shooter. Judges can’t figure out how to eat it. The sauce is visibly congealed, almost like melted cheese, and the bread is slightly burned. This was just a poor choice by Thierry – he thought “brunch” but didn’t consider execution. A croque-madame is a croque monsieur with a fried egg on top; he seems to have made a croque-monsieur with a bechamel that he has thickened with eggs, and it’s just a fiasco. That sounds really heavy and disgusting to me, just weight upon weight with no bright flavors.

* Kerry makes a corn and crab fritter with red pepper coulis. Krista’s was slightly underseasoned and slightly overdone, but I do think he had the right brunch vibe with those ingredients.

* Lorena says she “put all the sexy (she has) in this dish.” I’ll take two, then. She makes buñuelos, fried dough balls filled with cheese that I thought were more of a Christmas/New Year’s dish, with fresh berry compote and white chocolate and vanilla sauce. James raves about the custardy texture inside the crisp outer shell. Sounds like Sexychef knows her frying.

* Patricia is massacring her braised pork shoulder and says she can never get “that two handed chopping thing” down. She’s calling this barbecue, which it’s not – there’s no smoke involved. Her pulled pork on toast is a mess; James says the sauce is boring and dull, and the judges all agree the bun was toasted too far in advance and tastes stale. Holly loves the meat. I have no other comment.

* Awful Chris serves a skewer with watermelon, “tuna bacon,” tomatoes, and pistachios, plus some unidentified citrus zest visible on the screen. It’s the most complex dish so far in terms of concept and ingredients. Holly gives it props for being relatively healthful. The criticisms here and at judges’ table strike me as very nitpicky. The flavors may have been slightly unbalanced, but there’s nothing actually wrong with the dish in execution or in the combination of elements.

* Takashi makes a sheep’s milk yogurt panna cotta with fresh berry compote and almonds. One of the guests doesn’t know what a panna cotta is, but knows that the fruit is in a compote. All righty then.

* Art mentions the weight loss. Drink.

* James is undressing and/or ogling the various (apparently waxed?) young men around the pool. Had Curtis done the same with some of the ladies, this would have been offensive, right? I don’t care what team you play for; let’s just treat everyone equally.

* Judges’ table: The favorite dishes are from Takashi, Art, Lorena, and Kerry. Apparently Holly said off camera (or pre-editing) that she liked Art’s dish even with the garlic. The biggest raves seem to be for Lorena’s and she wins $10K for the Alliance for a Healthier Generation, giving her $15K so far.

* The bottom three are Thierry, Patricia, and Chris. Thierry’s sauce thickened after leaving the kitchen and the toast was burned. James says pulled pork (Patricia’s) should be fine and feathery in texture, but I disagree – that’s Carolina-style and I find it unpleasant and stringy. Properly smoked meat should still have some of its meaty characteristics yet can be served in larger chunks because the meat itself is tender from the long, slow smoking process. Awful Chris’ dish didn’t resonate with the audience, and the exhibitionist said it was overspiced. Was the challenge to please the non-discriminating pool crowd or the judges? Krista points out that his dish had soft and chewy textures but no crunchy element, which is the only really legitimate criticism I hear on this.

* Elimination: Thierry leaves. I thought Patricia would go based on the comments, but I also think she has a better chance to win the whole thing, so I’m glad she stayed. Thierry’s concept just wasn’t right for the setting. He says, “The chef in the hat is leaving” while acknowledging that he “was totally on the wrong planet” with trying to make a croque-whatever for outdoor, small-bite service.

Chicago eats.

I wrote about Bryce Harper’s struggles today for Insiders, and about Twins prospects Miguel Sano and Eddie Rosario yesterday. My post on Saturday’s Under Armour game should go up in the next 24 hours.

If you follow me on Twitter, you saw my photograph of 2 Sparrows‘ maple bacon donut, which is on the short list of the best things I’ve ever eaten, not just for the bacon, but for the absolutely perfect donut at the heart of the $4 dish. The maple glaze is very sweet, like pure maple sugar, so the donut beneath it has little to no sweetness of its own, instead shining for the crispy exterior and a soft, light interior. The bacon crumbled over the top is house-cured, with the salt well balanced with the glaze’s sweetness, and some texture contrast with the soft donut. I admit the plate seemed a little gimmicky, but the execution across the board is tremendous.

The duck confit hash was less successful, however, primarily because of texture – every item in the hash, which is mostly duck and sweet potatoes, is soft, with the duck actually the least so, even slightly tough in comparison to everything else in the dish. I also find duck meat in general and confit in particular slightly sweet, at least relative to any other protein, so the combination with sweet potatoes felt unbalanced.

My dinner with Old Hoss Radbourn on Saturday night was also a huge hit, as we went to The Purple Pig, a restaurant that promises “cheese, swine, and wine.” We went heavy on the swine, going for pork liver paté, fried pig ears, and the “JLT,” with pig jowl standing in for the bacon – as well as two vegetable dishes and dessert. Dish by dish:

* The pork liver paté was unreal – as smooth as a dessert mousse, with a pronounced smoky undertone and a thin layer of high-quality olive oil on top, served with thick slices of grilled country bread. The server even brought more bread so we could finish every last bit of the paté, and even though I’m not even a huge fan of liver, I’d order this again in a heartbeat. The dish is one of a handful of “smears” they offer, including one made from lardo, cured pork fat that melts into whatever hot item is underneath it.

* I would never have guessed I was eating fried pig ears if I didn’t know going in what we had ordered. They’re slow-cooked, julienned, then quickly fried like french-fried onion rings, served with fried kale, pickled cherry peppers, and a fried egg on top. The pig ears have just a hint of tooth to them, but aren’t tough, and the frying makes the kale crispy while setting its deep green hue. It’s like the perfect bar snack for food snobs like me – and with a Belhaven stout in front of me I had no trouble finishing my half of the dish. You can find the recipe if you want to try this at home.

* The JLT was incredibly awkward to eat, but when I could get all the flavors into one bite, it was masterful, with huge flavors all in perfect balance. The jowl is the pig’s cheek meat, cured like bacon but thicker and much more tender; those of you familiar with regional Italian cooking may have had it as guanciale. The heirloom tomatoes are sliced nearly an inch thick, which contributed to the construction issues, although they were extremely bright and provided the one sweet element in the dish. The duck egg … perhaps I’m a philistine, but I doubt I could have identified this as a duck egg rather than a chicken egg, and either way, a runny egg makes every dish better. The lemon aioli tasted more like a cold bearnaise sauce, providing the one acidic element, while frisee adds a slightly bitter note. As a whole, the dish has a complex mixture of colors, textures, and flavors, and if it was a little easier to eat it would have scored an 80 for me.

* The broccoli with roasted garlic and anchovy vinaigrette was another winner, with the broccoli also roasted and the umami-filled vinaigrette coating the vegetables (florets and I believe julienned stalks) perfectly, but without the fishy taste the description might lead you to expect. The charred cauliflower with toasted breadcrumbs, cornichons, and parsley was our least favorite of the five dishes, even though it might have been the prettiest thanks to the use of green and purple florets; the flavors were all muted and compared to the strong flavors in every other dish it felt bland.

* Both desserts were excellent; the mixed berry crostada had a textbook flaky/tender crust that could have stood on its own, while the salted caramel soft-serve ice cream was very smooth and had the complexity you expect from that flavor, even if it’s become a little hackneyed at this point. I’d take the crostada over the ice cream just because it was more unusual. Good call by Hoss on this place, especially since I figured there was even money we’d end up at a brothel.

Top Chef Masters, S4E4.

Thursday’s Klawchat transcript is up, and I wrote a column looking at hypothetical ballots for the five awards on which I’m not voting this year.

* Quickfire: Make a salad in eight minutes. I like this – making good salads is hard, much more than just throwing a bunch of leaves in a bowl. The prize is $5,000 and immunity.

* Patricia avoids the mad rush to the giant salad bar – and am I wrong to look at that and assume that it is covered with germs! – and focuses on the dressing first, going for the best-quality oils and vinegars in the pantry. One, I just generally think she’s really smart, more methodical than most chefs I’ve seen on any iteration of Top Chef. And two, this is the opposite of how most people, even most non-high-end restaurants, think about salads, right? If you make your own, you spend more time picking out the vegetables than you do considering the dressing. We’re lucky to live near an olive grove that presses its own high-quality oil, the Queen Creek Olive Mill, and I always have a bottle of their EVOO in the house, which means I don’t buy prefab dressings any more. Three parts EVOO, 1 part fresh lemon juice, a dash of Dijon mustard (for flavor and emulsifaction), salt and pepper to taste, and you’ve got a dressing to blow away anything that comes in a bottle for $5.

* Awful Chris says that despite being a meat guy, he spends more on produce than anything else at his restaurant.

* The B-52s are guest judges, which would be incredibly cool if this was 1988. Apparently it’s well-known that they’re vegetarians, but that wasn’t exactly the first thing I thought of when I saw them come out on stage. Fred Schneider seems extremely negative, a possible side effect of the producers raising him from the dead for this challenge. He’s also wearing sunglasses inside; he should have just popped his collar for the full effect.

* The three top dishes were Kerry’s salade rousse with yogurt dressing, Chapeau Guy’s blueberry salad with beets and baby arugula, and Lorena’s grilled cauliflower – the only dish that involved a cooked ingredient. They also seemed to like Patricia’s chopped salad with yuzu vinaigrette, largely for including those cheap crunchy Asian noodles. Lorena wins the $5K for her charity, Alliance for a Healthier Generation, which makes perfect sense for a woman who has sold her soul to Taco Bell.

* Please tell Curtis the word is not “AM-munity.”

* I don’t know what was the more shocking revelation of this episode: That Art has lost over 100 pounds in the last two years, or that he’s gay. Really, I can’t believe he kept this stuff from us for this entire season. I have a sneaking suspicion he’s also from the South but is still in denial about it.

* Also, I seriously hope Clark doesn’t prepare ingredients in the same bowl he used to cut his own hair.

* Elimination challenge: The Chairwoman of the Hualapai Tribal Council has invited the chefs to use eight ingredients native to their land and significant in their tribe’s culinary traditions in four dishes cooked outside by the rim of the Grand Canyon. The view is spectacular, as it’s such a grand … canyon.

* As it turns out, most of the ingredients are pretty straightforward, with only two real exceptions – prickly pear and banana yucca, which is actually a fruit rather than a root vegetable. I’ve never cooked with either, but I’ve had prickly pear in a number of things, including lemonade at the aforementioned Olive Mill (I recommend it half-and-half with their iced tea, a “Prickly Palmer” if you will … or if you won’t), and it brings both great flavor and color.

* The chefs are paired up at random into teams of two, each using one protein and one vegetable: Prickly pear with quail, banana yucca with venison, squash with rabbit, and corn with beef. They get two hours to cook and the meal will be served family style.

* Takashi is apparently afraid of heights, and then has to go in a helicopter and walk out on a glass-bottomed viewing walkway over the Canyon. Get thee some Xanax, Takashi.

* Anyone else notice from the helicopter shots how low Lake Mead is? The level of conservation awareness out here in Arizona is absolutely embarrassing. Drought or no drought, we live in a fucking desert. Stop putting grass on your damn lawns, people.

* It starts raining as they cook, although it never quite got to the level of pouring, and I wasn’t sure if the rain was causing issues with their grills or if the issue was wind, which is kind of a chronic thing all over Arizona as far as I can tell. Awful Chris repurposes his grill to create hot cooking surfaces with cast-iron planchas, then allows other chefs to use them as well, which is how you know you’re watching Masters. In the regular edition, one chef would have brained another with one of those surfaces, and on Desserts they’d still be arguing over who put out the fire.

* Chapeau Guy, working with Takashi, ends up pitting and stuffing the banana yucca, then breading and deep-frying them. It turns out he was also supposed to peel them, but I’m not sure how he would have known that ahead of time, since he’d never so much as heard of the ingredient before.

* Clark and Kerry disagree over presentation, and Clark just backs down. That nearly always foreshadows the chef getting eliminated.

* Serving: Art and Lorena go first and take so long to explain their dish that Lake Mead’s level dropped another two feet by the time they say what’s on the plates – quail with prickly pear sauce and slaw, corn dressing, peaches, and mint. They also basted the quail with the sauce while it cooked but didn’t butterfly or otherwise break it down to make it easier to eat. I love quail but it is a ton of work to get the meat off that little skeleton. Anyway, the quail also wasn’t cooked evenly, which seems to be a bigger problem.

* Kerry and Clark serve a beef filet with a raw sage pistou, grilled corn, bacon, tomatoes, and chili. Their beef is grey, as they never got their grill hot enough to sear it, so it looks boiled and gets none of the flavors that come from the Maillard reactions (what happens when you expose proteins to high heat, often mislabeled “caramelization”). Hualapai cooking doesn’t include much chili, but the tribe members at the table seem to enjoy its inclusion. However, every item on the dish is soft, so there’s no texture contrast, and this sounds really unadventurous overall. It’s steak and corn.

* Takashi and Chapeau Guy serve grilled venison and fried banana yucca cake with braised figs. This seems to get the highest marks and I thought sounded the best of the four dishes – if I saw all four on a menu, I’d probably order this one. Francis Lam compliments the mixture of textures in this dish, and the sugar in the figs makes up for the bitterness of the banana yucca skin.

* Patricia and Awful Chris serve “rabbit loin and its bits” with acorn squash and red berry and piñon agrodolce. They used the entire animal, which appeals to me as my own philosophy of the ethics of eating meat has evolved over the years – in particular, that there’s some obligation to eat more of the parts of any animal you consume than we typically do in this country. That’s been an adventure for me as someone who did not grow up eating things like marrow or gribiche, and I admit I still struggle a little with some organ meats (heart in particular due to its texture), but I’ve made the choice to change my eating habits.

* How is Aunt Inez, the oldest of the Hualapai at the dinner table, eating all this food with one tooth?

* Judges’ table: Curtis, Ruth, James, and Francis are all trying to outdo themselves with profound statements on the setting, the tribe’s traditions, the spiritual feeling of the meal, threatening to turn the whole thing into an Insufferable Feast.

* Judges’ table: Patricia/Awful Chris and Takashi/Chapeau Guy are on top. Chris and Patricia seemed to get the spirit of the challenge more, especially by using the entire rabbit, but Takashi and Chapeau Guy win and split the $10,000 prize. Thierry remarks that he won with an ingredient he’d never used before, of which he seems rightfully proud.

* Elimination: Lorena’s cole slaw wasn’t great but everyone loved the prickly pear sauce. Art split some quail but eventually chose to serve them whole because he didn’t want to lose the presentation. Kerry said getting a sear on the beef was hard. Their sage pistou got raves, but the second sauce, a compound butter with berries, separated on the plate. Clark made a corn ragout to “honor the cuisine of the region, “ then says he didn’t want to ruin the dish by making something that competed with Kerry’s beef, but that’s just a flaw in conception – the two didn’t work together to build a cohesive offering. Clark ends up eliminated, so the great tragedy they tried to show us last week of Mark’s separation from his partner lasted just a few days. Clark’s charity, Outright Lewiston, which helps LGBT kids in the community where his and Mark’s restaurant is, receives a donation as well.

* I think Patricia and Awful Chris are pretty clearly the top two chefs here, and have been from the start, with Takashi probably third. I’d be surprised if the winner isn’t one of the first two.

Dracula.

Dracula, #98 on Daniel Burt’s original version of The Novel 100, gave us one of the best-known characters in all of literature, generated an enduring myth of the undead vampire (and yet another reason to love garlic), and provided enough fodder for sex-obsessed English professors to analyze for centuries. It’s also surprisingly uneven and even a little slow in parts, despite a strong opening chapter that is among the best pieces of horror writing I have ever encountered.

Stoker was apparently a hack writer before the publication of Dracula and didn’t produce much of enduring literary value afterwards, but that one book – in the public domain in the U.S. since its publication due to an error in its copyright notice – is one of the most influential works of fiction written in any language, spawning what Jasper Fforde has dubbed the “Sexy Vampires” subgenre and inflicting Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson on us all. There is some obvious sexual metaphor in Stoker’s work, with blood-sucking standing in as a symbol for sex, but it’s far less overt the modern glut of vampire-romance stories (I’m including non-literary adaptations, like the TV version of Buffy the Vampire Slayer – remember “When did the building fall down?”); I wonder if he had a more direct influence on D.H. Lawrence, who also explored religious and pagan themes with more frank depictions of human sexuality (especially that of women) that led to the banning of some of his works.

Stoker borrowed a narrative technique from one of my favorite novels, Wilkie Collins’ 1860 thriller The Woman in White, which told the story in a series of first-person narratives from various participants in and observers of the main story, resulting in a panoramic view by the end of the novel as pieces fall into place while allowing the author to add or remove clarity as he ses fit. Stoker’s version is more disjointed because so much of the novel is in diary form, with shorter sections that result in too-frequent changes of perspective and, for me at least, occasional confusion over who was speaking.

The more successful trick of Dracula is how Stoker builds up his antagonist early in the book, so that the villain becomes an ever-present force to the characters involved even though he barely appears in the novel’s final half. The opening segment, the longest from any single character, follows the young solicitor Jonathan Harker to Transylvania, where he is to meet a new client and help him with the purchase of an estate in London. Harker is unnerved by the locals’ apparent fear of the castle he’s visiting but is taken in by his host’s charm until he discovers that his host is keeping him prisoner, and that the castle is also home to three evil enchantresses (“the weird sisters,” which is itself a possible reference to the prophesying sisters of Macbeth, and a familiar term to the Harry Potter fans among you) who nearly kill him with their kiss. Count Dracula’s character is fully defined in this section, with some scattered details provided later with the appearance of Professor Van Helsing, but Dracula only physically appears in the text a handful of times after Harker’s escape from the castle. The fear of Dracula takes over the antagonist role from his incarnation, and if Stoker hadn’t used so many narrators to make the story internally reliable, he could easily have written a similar story where Harker hallucinated the initial episode and the characters are chasing a villain who doesn’t exist.

There’s a downside to that trick of Stoker’s, however. The final quarter or so of the novel involves a race against the clock as the protagonists chase Dracula around London and back to Transylvania to try to kill him (permanently), even though he only appears in the text via one character’s psychic connection to him. The novel suffers from his absence, as the characters seem to emphasize repeatedly the risks of failing to reach him in time rather than allowing him to demonstrate it – the narrative greed was lost for me. Where Collins managed to maintain suspense in his novel through mystery, Stoker built up suspense through fear and couldn’t hold that tension once the antagonist was on the run – or, more accurately, in a box.

One plot point I didn’t quite grasp, for those of you who read it, is how Dracula settled on his initial female victim, who is connected with Harker. I might have missed something at the start, but this seemed like an odd choice that never received any explanation; he just happened to target this woman, who just happened to be connected through a friend to a great expert on the undead. That worked out well for Stoker, but even in a book that requires substantial suspension of disbelief, those two coincidences jarred. I’m glad I read it for completeness purposes, but I think its presence on Burt’s ranking is more reflective of its popularity and historical importance than overall literary merit.

Next up: I’m almost through Doris Lessing’s The Golden Notebook, #48 on The Novel 100 and part of the TIME 100 as well.

Top Chef Masters, S4E3.

Through three episodes of this season of Top Chef Masters, I feel like they’ve toned down some of the absurdity of the previous season, at least in terms of the challenges. The “twists” in this episode weren’t outlandish – they forced the chefs to think differently, or maybe push themselves into an area where they were less comfortable, but there was nothing this week that screamed “gimmick” to me.

* Quickfire: Use at least one of the proteins (fish and shellfish) on display … without heat. In other words, a crudo challenge. Chris jokes that Takashi, as an expert in sushi and sashim, had an advantage. The prize is $5000 plus immunity, and the chefs have just 20 minutes since they’re not cooking. The guest judge was Brian Boitano, spurring the question of what he would do.

* Love Kerry’s charity, City Harvest, which takes leftover food from restaurants to food pantries – the quantity of food we waste in this country, neither given to people who need it nor composted, is appalling.

* One thing I didn’t follow: Was the lobster raw? I have eaten raw shellfish, but I can’t say I’m crazy about it, and growing up on Long Island where pollution kept warnings about eating raw oysters in the news on a regular basis has instilled a fairly strong fear of raw shellfish in me.

* Art’s avocado soup looked disgusting, like discolored mashed potatoes, or, well, baby vomit. The color also reminded me of the appliance set my parents had in the late 1970s, with a linoleum floor to match. That ain’t comin’ back in style any time soon.

* After some initial panic, it looked like the chefs actually enjoyed this challenge; why wouldn’t they, since nearly every high-end restaurant offers some sort of raw fish preparation on its menu?

* Patricia praised Boitano as the chefs watched the judging for his intelligent commentary about their food, and I’d agree. This almost makes up for the fact that he is one of the most boring figure skaters who has ever put on blades.

* Thierry’s gooey duck … excuse me, geoduck earns demerits for a briny/salty flavor. I have no other comment than “gooey duck.”

* Boitano’s idea of awarding medals when he names the top three was a little corny, but at least he can sell a joke properly rather than beating into the ground (which Curtis threatened to do, repeatedly). Bronze went to Mark’s maine lobster with heirloom tomato salad. Silver went to Chris’ one-bite mackerel fra diavolo. Gold went to Takashi for aji sashimi with daikon and apple, a fish Brian had never tried before. Takashi’s charity is American Red Cross disaster relief, and he’s sending his winnings to their rebuilding efforts in Japan. Given how one tragedy is displaced from the headlines by the next one, I think most of us are probably guilty of forgetting how much cleanup and reconstruction remains for the areas of Japan affected by last year’s earthquake and tsunami.

(Aside: I was in Long Beach earlier this week for the very modest 4.4 earthquake that had its epicenter in Yorba Linda. I’ve been through two or three lesser earthquakes before, but you have never seen me move as I did when this one hit, from the bed to the window to see exactly how much I needed to panic.)

* Elimination challenge: Teppanyaki. The chefs seem … displeased, but really, did they expect something easy? At least they’re not cooking with their right wrists strapped to their left ankles, which was an actual challenge in season 3 and succeeded in taking out four chefs in one episode.

* Takashi has never cooked on a teppan, then says it looks easy but isn’t easy at all, so you can try to figure out how he knows it’s not easy. As it turns out, none of the nine has cooked on a teppan before. The diners include four former competitors on Top Chef Masters.

* Teams are selected at random. Chris and Art end up on the same team – and the producers pop champagne corks. Prize is $10,000.

* Thierry interrupting his grocery shopping to get an in-store massage has to be a top five all-time Top Chef moment, right? He didn’t even show a shred of remorse afterwards.

* No one knows the grill temperature, which becomes a recurring problem throughout the episode. No one uses an infrared thermometer? That’s not snark – even I own one. I feel like Alton Brown watched this and just shook his head in disgust, while explaining to his daughter how to make an infrared thermometer from a clothes hanger and a television remote.

* Oh, God, does James Oseland have no mirrors in his house? Was that a gingham necktie? Did he strangle a schoolboy and steal part of his school uniform? Seriously, you’re supposed to be a food expert. Dress the part, be the part, motherfucker.

* Krista Simmons is replaced this week by Francis Lam. Never heard of him.

* To the dishes, most of which looked really good. Mark made Scallops and bok choy and pickled mushrooms with dipping sauce. Immediately evident that didn’t challenge himself. The dish looked very simple, and the judges weren’t wowed. You know right away he’s in trouble.

* Kerry made a Korean dish, shrimp with eggplant and herb salad and gochujang sauce (made with chili and red bean paste). Ruth’s shrimp was overcooked, also a bad sign.

* Lorena: Fried rice with kaffir/orange zest infused chicken, cilantro, and a sauce of soy, guava, and orange juice. It’s very colorful, but it’s fried rice – is that likely to win anything on Top Chef? Her guava starts to burn because the center of the teppan is very hot, and no one on this team tasted their food for salt, so all three dishes were under-seasoned.

* Team two starts with Takashi, who made Calamari with okonomiyake, a savory Japanese pancake (first place I had one? Epcot), along with a sweet soy sauce. Takashi struggles with time, so Patricia jumps in to help, telling the diners “I’m not really here.” Takashi knew when preparing the batter that he had the wrong kind of flour, and the diners comment right away that the texture was off.

* Clark struggles with grill temperature as well, making lobster with orange-soy vinaigrette, a dish that spurs disagreement among the diners over how well it was cooked.

* Patricia makes kalbi in a lettuce wrap with her own gochujang. Mary Sue thought the meat needed more marinade, but in general this earned high marks, especially for her lettuce wrap, which only makes me think “P.F. Chang’s.”

* Team three: Chris is bossing Art around in the kitchen; I don’t think the editors are responsible for this. Thierry just mocks them (“Hey, girls…”), which is really all he can do, but also, he was Zen because he’d just had a massage, man.

* The interesting bit here is that this team avoided Asian flavors entirely. Art makes cheese grits cakes with two tomato-based dressings, marinated grilled shrimp, and a watermelon salad. The cakes aren’t staying together – but with polenta those messy ones can be great because they brown more, since you’ve increased the surface area. Art is also the first one to put on a real show, pouring some Jack Daniels over the shrimp and lighting it.

* Chris gets some eye-rolls from the judges for the way he browbeats Art – but I think Art played the victim a little here too. Chris’ dish is a take on clam chowder, although I don’t think I heard much about this after he said “seared pork belly in duck fat.” Skip the soup and serve that, pal. Art misplaces Chris’ mandoline and Chris loses it to the point where Thierry even seems shocked.

* Thierry makes crepes, then struggles with the hot grill and uneven temperatures across the surface. I think crepes were a good idea, but several of the chefs approached it like it was a traditional flat-top, which it’s clearly not (among other things, that would risk burning the diners). He finessed the uneven cooking with his charm, or maybe just the accent, and really I can deal with an overcooked crepe when it’s served with flambeed pears, almond cream, and pear butter.

* Judges’ table: Team three, Art/Chris/Thierry wins. They seem shocked, but they didn’t know anything about the other teams’ troubles. Winning chef is Art, making a nice comeback from last week’s fallen cake. He won points for the flambe – and $10K for Common Threads, a charity that teaches low-income kids to cook and understand nutrition. That feels like a great cause that might struggle to raise funds because it’s not sexy and its goals seem modest, even though modest goals are better because you can actually achieve them.

* Elimination: Team one, Mark/Kerry/Lorena. Lorena calls the teppan “the plancha,” which is either funny or a little playing for the judges.” Ruth says the whole team’s food was under-seasoned. Francis says Kerry’s flavors didn’t come together. Mark’s dish was indeed too safe. Lorena gets praised for working the teppan, but Ruth saw some of the food burn, and hers was also underseasoned.

* Mark goes home – dish was not ambitious, and the flavors didn’t click. He seems to understand that he took a risk by not taking a risk. Equality Maine gets a donation. The cameras keep showing Clark as Mark says his goodbyes. I’m sure he was upset, but it’s not like they broke up. They’ll be apart for what, a few days? It’s not half as tragic as the fact that they can’t legally marry. Let’s focus here.

* Final three prediction: Chris and Patricia seem way ahead of the others, at least in terms of working within the confines of the challenges. Takashi is probably the next most skilled, but the judges seem to really like Lorena’s way of utilizing Latin flavors in unexpected places, so I’ll give her the edge.

Top Chef Masters, S4E2.

Today’s Klawchat transcript was pretty prospect-heavy. Today’s podcast has me and Dave Schoenfield talking about the Angels/Rangers game, Mike Olt, and sophomore slumps, among other topics.

* No Quickfire this week, as the entire show is built around an elimination challenge that involves catering the wedding of a couple who’ve had both tragedy – the death of the groom’s sister/maid of honor in a car accident – and horrible luck – their planned venue “disappearing” with some of their deposit. The chefs look genuinely nervous about the challenge of putting together an entire wedding menu in one day, which raises the question: With real-life consequences involved for the bride and groom, why not give the chefs more time than normal to ensure a better result?

* The bride wants a “many-tiered cake,” which made me wonder if the producers encouraged the couple to be demanding, or at least max out their demands, to the chefs. I don’t think that’s unfair at all, but if I were in that groom’s shoes, I’d probably be so thrilled that these phenomenal chefs were catering my wedding (presumably at no cost to me) I’d be saying “whatever you want to do is fine with me.”

* Some of the chefs’ stories of their own weddings were pretty funny – Chris Cosentino cooking the food for his own wedding, which probably should have had led to him being committed, or Thierry saying he had to have a croquembouche at his wedding because that’s the dish that made his wife first fall in love with him.

* You couldn’t do this challenge on regular Top Chef because it requires so much cooperation between erstwhile competitors. To their credit, there’s barely a whiff of competition either at the grocery store or in the kitchen: chefs are moving all over the place to help each other get their dishes done and plated. It was kind of amazing to see chefs at this level receiving orders barked by their peers and executing them without complaint or hesitation.

Half full cart, with most of the crab , left at seafood counter. How does that happen? Kerry doesn’t blame anyone but himself, though

* Ah, Art. After more sniping with Chris, Art is really coming off as a prima donna; Chris voices patience in the confessional shots, but in the kitchen he’s more confrontational with Art, who probably had it coming but seems to get more sour the more that Chris pushes him. Meanwhile, Curtis says Art was “gutsy” to volunteer to do the cake, while Art has to tell us fifty times that he did the cake for Lady Gaga’s birthday party.

* Speaking of Curtis, his one-off shots talking to the camera are useless. He’s not informative; he’s recapping what we just saw, but with an accent.

* After yesterday’s absurd “eat fried chicken if you don’t believe in the 14th Amendment” event, the timing of Mark’s comments about marriage equality – he and Clark have been together for 25 years, but can’t get married in Maine because heterosexual marriages would spontaneously combust from Portland to Presque Isle – couldn’t have been more perfect. Mark’s charity is Equality Maine, which campaigns for equal rights for Maine’s LGBT community.

* As for Clark, don’t move his cheese.

* Really, James? That’s the best jacket you could find for a wedding? Goodwill wouldn’t accept that blazer if you tried to donate it to them.

* The chefs provide five small dishes for the cocktail hour. Thierry makes a Filipino blood soup (I believe that’s dinuguan). Clark does barbecued duck with sirloin Szechuan sauce in lettuce with Asian herbs. Kerry, who had panicked earlier when they left one of the grocery carts at the fish counter and left him with maybe half of the crab he expected to have, does a successful corn panna cotta with crab salad and grilled okra. Patricia does a one-bite canape of pickled mackerel, young coconut, herbs, and chilies, served on a spoon; Oseland later refers to it as a “ceviche,” so the pickling may have been rapid. Takashi’s dish looked the best, with braised pork belly that was a deep amber color, served with pickled daikon and a steamed bun, like a deconstructed baozi.

* For the mains, Debbie’s green papaya salad concept degenerated into a grilled lettuce dish that James said was one of the “weirder things” he’d ever eaten. Even as Kerry was grilling the greens, you could see on his face that he thought it was bizarre, and I know of no scientific validity to her argument that grilling them “adds acidity.” I’ve grilled radicchio, which makes it taste smoky but doesn’t add acid, and, more importantly, doesn’t make the thing any less bitter.

* Mark made a sesame-coated salmon that did not cook evenly, with the judges receiving raw fish but the bride getting a perfectly cooked one. Chris does a stunning banana leaf-braised pork with bitter greens and aioli and adobo sauces. In a related story, I need to get to San Francisco.

* Dessert: Art realized early on that his icing was too soft, foreshadowing eventual disaster that required him to dismantle and reconstruct the cake, only to have it leaning when he brought it out for service. But what I didn’t get about his “inside-out pineapple upside-down cake” was why he didn’t do anything to caramelize the pineapples first – that’s the best part of a pineapple upside-down cake, isn’t it? Grill them, fry them in a little butter, whatever, just get them to a nice golden brown. Lorena’s vanilla leche flan with toasted coconut gets kind of ignored in all the brouhaha over the slouching cake.

* Judges’ table: Takashi, Patricia, and Chris (again) are on top. Patricia wins with the one bite dish, another $10K for Heifer, up to $16K total. I didn’t see any surprises here.

* Elimination: Mark, Debbie, and Art. No surprises here either. Krista just starts rubbing it in to Art, talking about how important the cake is to a bride. What compassion – Art already looked like he wanted to die before that. Otherwise, the judges aren’t really responding to the chefs’ comments, which I understand given who’s standing there, but a little back-and-forth would be fine.

* I’ve been killing James so far, but his criticism of Debbie’s dish was great. He explained very specifically what a green papaya or mango salad should have, what elements and flavors make it great, and how her reconception fell short. We need more of that from him, and less of him looking like he’d rather be home playing with 37 of his 83 cats.

* Debbie is eliminated, which fits; of the bottom three, she was the only one with a bad concept and bad execution, where the other two primarily failed to execute.

Next week’s recap will probably be a day late, as I’m headed to the Area Code Games in Long Beach and may not see the show until early Friday.

Tucson eats (and trade analysis links).

I blogged about every major trade from the past few days, combining some smaller ones into longer posts, which you can find here:

Today’s podcast is all prospect talk with Kevin Goldstein chatting with me about prospects from those trades and top 100 prospects who’ve disappointed so far this year.

I’ve been to Tuscon a handful of times this year and had some mixed success with food. My favorite spot to hit is actually a postgame stop right by the U of A campus – Allegro, a gelateria founded by two natives of Morbegna, Italy, offering a great mix of traditional flavors and more modern ones, the latter category including the best sea salt caramel gelato I’ve had (with a strong butter flavor), as well as saffron, fig, anise, and pineapple basil. It’s comparable in quality to the best gelato I’ve had in the Phoenix area, where Frost (actually based in Tucson) edges out Angel Sweet.

As for food in Tucson, the best I’ve found is probably Feast, run by local-celebrity chef Doug Levy, who actually seated me and chatted for a little while when he noticed I was reading a Michael Ruhlman book. The “date plate” starter – grilled crostini with hummus on one half and a Manchego-stuffed, pancetta-wrapped date on the other – was delicious if a little weird; I didn’t get the interplay between the two toppings, although, really, dates wrapped in bacon, people. Unfortunately, the execution of my entree, a special including achiote shrimp over jasmine rice, was poor; the shrimp weren’t hot and the dish included four hidden whole black peppercorns, which I discovered when I ended up biting into three of them at once. I need to try them again because I can tell the emphasis on fresh ingredients and inventive combinations is there, but that wasn’t the first impression I was hoping to get.

Feast’s culinary vibe and philosophy put them ahead of Kingfisher for me, even though the latter, focusing on fresh seafood, had better execution. I had a salad from their seasonal specials menu, grilled black mission figs with mixed greens and ricotta salata, with a perfect balance of sweet, sour, bitter (from the greens and radicchio), and salty. The pumpkin seed-crusted scallops in my entree were slightly overcooked and, because they were covered with the breading all the way around, didn’t have that slight sweetness that scallops develop when they are seared and allowed to brown on the exterior. The poblano aioli (with the consistency of a crema and a bright green color) and corn salsa on the plate were also somewhat overpowering, but would be great with a stronger-flavored fish like salmon. With black beans and soft jasmine rice, it was an enormous amount of food, but the delicacy of the scallops ended up overwhelmed by other elements.

I went to the tapas restaurant Casa Vicente back in March but apparently never wrote about it. Casa Vicente offers authentic Spanish tapas, heavy on seafood options. I don’t remember the meal clearly enough to give a quality review here; I remember finding it solid, with the “plaza mayor”-style fried calamari and the patatas bravas (fried potato chunks, served with a spicy red vinegar sauce and a garlic aioli) both successful.

Finally, I haven’t been to Beyond Bread this summer, but should mention it as one of my favorite sandwich places anywhere, primarily because their bread is so good. They have three locations in Tucson and are open late enough (8 pm) for you to grab something before heading to a night game at Hi Corbett Field or Kino Veterans Park.

Top Chef Masters, S4E1.

New post for Insiders today with a scouting report on Danny Hultzen. I also broke down the Zack Greinke trade on Friday.

I’ll say up front that I greatly prefer the regular version of Top Chef to what I saw of Top Chef Masters in season three, which included some fairly absurd challenges (cooking with live bugs?) and often felt, to me, disrespectful to chefs who by and large have already achieved substantial success in the field. The higher level of professionalism on Masters also means there’s less opportunity for snark, mostly because we don’t get the same silly drama behind the scenes. That said, I just made Mary Sue Milliken’s quinoa fritters again last night, so I’m going to watch this season of Masters if only because I’m hoping to learn something new.

As for the chefs … I don’t think I’ve eaten at any of their restaurants, although I’m familiar with Chris Cosentino and am dying to get to one of his places – I just haven’t been in San Francisco proper in five years. Cosentino does have a stand in LA’s new Umamicatessan, called PIGG, and I’m sure you can figure out what they serve.

To the episode:

* Quickfire: The blackjack setup, where two-chef teams were each dealt two ingredient cards and had to incorporate both into a single dish, was cheesy and took up way too much time. They should have let chefs double down, taking a third ingredient for double the prize money.

* Speaking of those ingredients … bologna? That’s back to disrespecting the chefs. There were eleven ingredients that would all have fit well on a haute cuisine menu, and then there was O-s-c-a-r. Also, I haven’t eaten bologna in thirty years. It’s what I imagine human flesh might taste like.

* Dry aged beef and whole catfish seems like the most challenging combination – the chefs have to work with two proteins, each of which should be the star of the dish, and as it turns out they have to break the fish down in the allotted time of 15 minutes.

* Clark Frasier complains that quinoa doesn’t go with langoustine. Quinoa goes with just about everything – it has little taste of its own but takes dressings, sauces, and aromatics really well. His team’s dish ends up a mess, looking like someone spat the candied/popped quinoa on the langoustine.

* Duck breast and peaches seemed like the best combo of ingredients – fruit sauces, chutneys, and gastriques all work so well with duck – but lost to the beef and catfish. We shouldn’t be shocked that Cosentino would be good with proteins, I suppose.

* Random thought: Do chefs like these worry that the editing will make them look like doofuses? We get complaints from chefs in just about every season that the editing required to squeeze the two challenges into 44 minutes often makes them look bad (or dumb, or mean), so does that also apply to these chefs? We already have Art Smith carping about Cosentino’s youth and inexperience, which I found incredibly catty – who cares how old a chef is if he can really cook? Does your food somehow taste better if you’re on the far side of 40? And does Art not remember the cocky-as-all-hell Michael Voltaggio?

* Elimination challenge: As twists go, these individual lottery tickets, with small awards or penalties (like losing 30 minutes of cooking time) are pretty harmless, nowhere near as bad as the team-wide tickets.

* Missy Robbins cut a deep cash into one of her little fingers on a mandolin and ends up leaving the show; she needed a skin graft and couldn’t wield a knife for one or two months.

* I love Thierry Rautureau discussing the BOOfay. Speaking of Thierry, he’s back for a second go-round; he appeared on season 2 of Masters under the previous format, where he failed to advance beyond the preliminary round.

* Art: “I cook for billionaires.” Does he have “Chef to the 1%” T-shirts for sale?

* The twists from those gold team-wide tickets: Each of the two teams’ assigned cuisines – one Mexican, one Indian – is revealed after their initial shopping trip. Team Mexican sends Art, who looked about as lost in the supermarket as I’d be in an auto-parts store, on the initial trip, while Team Indian chooses to make do with what they’ve got.

* The dishes … Patricia’s cornmeal pancake with chicken and beef adobo and peach and corn salsa sounded phenomenal; I wasn’t clear whether this was her concept, or her execution of Missy’s concept.

* Lorena’s ceviche ‘tigre de leche’ got mushy because she made it too soon. It amazes me that chefs at this level can make fundamental errors like that – is it the time pressure? I can’t imagine it’s the food knowledge. Anyway, Lorena’s probably the one chef you all know, because you see her face every time you drive by a Taco Bell.

* Clark’s dish – green beans with fried shallots and goat cheese – looked about as Indian as pasta alla carbonara, which, for a challenge in which his team was required to cook an Indian-themed buffet. Excuse me, BOO-fay. Team India scuffled almost across the board; Mark’s curried corn soup with curried flatbread was bland, and the judges made the filling in Takashi shrimp and salmon dumpling sound like spam mousse. The one dish that sounded most appealing here was Thierry’s masala salmon and beef shoulder with spiced mango couscous and lemon-peanut chutney, but that’s also not terribly Indian. (Unfortunately, the recipe omits the couscous, which was much more interesting to me than the proteins.)

* Judges’ table: Unfortunately, the insufferable James Oseland is back at judges’ table; he’s incredibly nitpicky, and even when he says he likes something he looks like someone just slipped a moldy onion under his nose. When your comments on dishes from chefs at this level are so skewed toward the negative, I have to seriously question your palate or your intent. And overall, I think the judges are much less insightful and entertaining than Tom, Hugh, Padma, and Gail. I understand the reluctance to lay into any of the chefs, given their resumes, but I also think the judges are so reserved that they fail to inform us enough about the dishes.

* Chris wins again for his “pork and beans” with pork belly, chorizo, and chickpeas, earning tepid applause from teammates Art and Kerry. That’s now $16K raised for the Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson’s Research.

* Team Indian gets scolded for missing the target by a subcontinent or two. Seems like they lost because they didn’t shop again or change their dishes enough, so apparently it’s better to send the village idiot back to the store than to send no one at all. Chef Sue Torres of Sueños in Manhattan is sent home for essentially having to cook a cuisine she wasn’t prepared to cook, having shopped for a Mexican dish and failed to adjust it enough after the challenge changed. That’s not a good way to send a lower-case top chef home, is it? I’m hoping future challenges push these chefs to be more innovative, not to leap over more obstacles.

* Final three prediction: I agree with Missy that Chris looks like the favorite. Thierry and Patricia (who did a dish and a half in the elimination challenge, and earned plaudits for both) also seemed strong, although to be fair I don’t think anyone stood out the way that Chris did.

The Making of a Chef.

Today’s Klawchat transcript is up. I am planning to go to tonight’s Mets/D-backs game and hope to file something off it tomorrow.

The Culinary Institute of America has become the most prestigious cooking school in the country, expanding from a small, all-male class when it opened 66 years ago in New Haven, to a large campus in Hyde Park, New York, featuring four restaurants and a rolling calendar where a new set of students matriculates every three weeks. For the CIA’s 50th anniversary in 1996, writer Michael Ruhlman went through the curriculum as a student, albeit at an accelerated rate and without the required restaurant externship, and wrote a book about this first-hand experience. The Making of a Chef: Mastering Heat at the Culinary Institute of America became a best-seller and established Ruhlman as one of the top food writers in the business, succeeding both because of its lively, energetic prose and because Ruhlman absorbed so much food knowledge while working his way through his classes.

Ruhlman refers to himself as an “undercover” student, although the faculty are aware of his presence and role, and he cooks right alongside the students, finding himself judged and graded as they are – and often defending himself when he’s not happy with the results. These classes range from basic knife skills to butchering to sauces to pastry, concluding with a 15-week run through the four on-campus restaurants run by the CIA, which range from family dining to formal and assign each student to a different station each day, forcing them to draw on all of their prior education.

Ruhlman’s great trick in this book is finding and conveying drama in what otherwise might seem the most mundane of tasks: The preparation of food. From early classes where the object is to beat the clock and achieve a good enough result for a demanding professor to later work in the restaurants, where students’ work is served to paying customers (and, occasionally, the school’s president or a visiting celebrity chef), Ruhlman manages to evoke a sense of urgency in the reader, turning dry material into compelling prose. He achieves this primarily through dialogue, letting his fellow students (and, often, himself) communicate their rising stress levels, rather than trying to explain it directly in a way that would likely sound trite to anyone who’s never spent time in a restaurant kitchen. There’s a recurring theme in the book about the need for chefs to push themselves harder and faster than they thought possible, something hard to imagine if you’re in a job that doesn’t have the same kind of time pressures.

He also uses the open question of what type of roux (a cooked combination of flour and fat, used as the base for many major sauces, as well as for gumbo) one should use to make the poorly-named “brown sauce,” which also relies on veal stock, aromatics, and tomatoes (usually as a paste) for flavor and then itself becomes a foundation for countless other sauces. There are two answers to the question, blond or brown, but the way in which each instructor answers the question reveals much about his/her philosophy of food and, perhaps more importantly to this book, philosophy of teaching about food. The lengthy discussion of the making of consomme follows a similar path – it is not sufficient to know what consomme is or how to make it; one must understand why making it so clear that the instructor can read the writing on a dime at the bottom of a gallon of this clarified meat stock matters.

Although Making of a Chef is a book about cooking, it’s not a cookbook – there are no recipes, nothing more specific than a general description of some fundamentals like brown sauce. The story is full of unusual characters, instructors and students, but none becomes a central figure and some of the students blink in and out of the story as they leave campus for their externships at high-end restaurants – a requirement for graduation at the CIA. It’s a book about an idea, that cooking, only recently seen as a highly respectable profession in the United States, can be codified and taught to the inexpert so that they can enter the world of haute cuisine and develop their own culinary concepts. It also details Ruhlman’s own intellectual evolution from someone who enjoys food to someone who understands it, appreciates it, and, fortunately for us, can write about it in an informative and eloquent way. For a book that would seem, on its face, to lack a compelling hook, it was very hard for me to put down.

I own four other books by Ruhlman, none better or more heavily used than Ruhlman’s Twenty, an absolutely essential cookbook that I reviewed in November. It goes through twenty ingredients or techniques that are key for any home cook, with numerous foolproof recipes that often include step-by-step instructions and photographs to help the less experienced reader.