The Best Cookbooks of the Decade [goodbye aughties]
While 2009 was full of spectacular cookbooks, the rest of the decade hasn't been too shabby either. With How to Cook Everything (published in 1998) and French Laundry (1999) completely changing the game for home and restaurant cookbooks alike, the next few years were already set up for greatness. Through the hundreds and hundreds of volumes that saw the light of day between 2000 and 2009, EMD's Helen Rosner, Paula Forbes, Raphael Brion, and Ryan Adams picked the books that made the decade.
2000
Think Like a Chef by Tom Colicchio (Amazon
Tom Colicchio wrote this pre-Craft, pre-Top Chef, all the way back when he was the chef at Gramercy Tavern. It's a clear precursor to the seasonal haute barnyard New York City cuisine: back then heirloom tomatoes could only be had at the farmers market, not at every corner grocery. The book's structure is unique, and it's instructional without being pandering: first, basic techniques (braising, sauce-making, etc), then increasingly complex studies of single ingredients, then ingredient trilogies, and finally full chapters of recipes divided by season. Looking back at it, it's shocking (and also not) how timeless it really is. It both documented and prophesized a very specific way of thinking and cooking, pronouncing a pivotal shift in American cuisine. –RB
Staff Meals from Chanterelle by David Waltuck (Amazon
This book, a collection of hearty, unpretentious family meal recipes from a delicate, mildly pretentious New York restaurant (which, sadly, closed this year), was the first clue I ever got that restaurants had back-of-house existences beyond what I experienced as a customer in the dining room. (I know, I know, but I was a kid back then.) It painted a warm, chummy, delicious-food-filled picture of what went on before and after service and behind closed doors — a far cry from the illusion-shattering bluster of 2001's Kitchen Confidential. It doesn't hurt that the recipes are fantastic, comfort food constructed with haute cuisine expertise, Ad Hoc at Home six years before Ad Hoc even opened. –HR
2001
The River Cottage Cookbook by Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall (Amazon
I don't think it's an overestimation to say that this book is the butterfly whose wing-flap led to the current culinary hurricane of locavorism, foraging, and DIY butchery. Sure, there are recipes, but what's really galvanizing here is Fearnley-Whittingsall's unbridled passion for (and seeming obliviousness to the notion that anyone could not be passionate about) growing his own vegetables, raising and slaughtering his own livestock, foraging around his home and restaurant for whatever delicious items happen to have grown there, and then preserving and preparing all those things in the most stunningly simple, spectacular ways. –HR
2002
The Zuni Cafe Cookbook by Judy Rodgers (Amazon
I found this book when I was in college, thanks entirely to the home cooking forums on Chowhound.com, where quite possibly millions of posts have been written about Zuni Cafe's recipe for roast chicken with bread salad. For one reason or another I still haven't gotten around to actually making the chicken, but thanks to Rodgers's fluid narrative voice this was the first cookbook I sat down and read through cover to cover. The recipes are often intimidatingly difficult and precise, but I've never had a miss. One day I'll get around to the chicken. –HR
2003
Flavor by Rocco DiSpirito (Amazon
Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Earlier in the decade, Rocco DiSpirito was a pretty respectable chef, and Flavor is proof of that. Full of amazing, innovative food photography by Henry Leutwyler, the recipes are fresh, non-fussy fusion, and they really work. From that to Dancing With the Stars? Sigh. —PF
2004
Bouchon by Thomas Keller with Michael Ruhlman (Amazon
I've never been a huge fan of The French Laundry (or, for that matter, the restaurant). I respect it. I admire it. But I will not cook from it. To me, it's too foreign, too expensive, too fancy, too removed from the way that normal humans eat and cook. On the other hand, Bouchon (and the restaurant) takes simple, traditional bistro fare and, thanks to Thomas Keller's exacting principles, elevates it to something extraordinary. To be sure, some of it is ridiculous: caramelizing onions for five hours? Please. But damn, if you need guidance in making the best bistro-style food, including the ultimate quiche (and yes, it will take you hours), this is the book for you. –RB
The Whole Beast: Nose-to-Tail Eating by Fergus Henderson (Amazon
Five years ago, I'd have laughed right in your face if you'd have told me that not only would I eventually be cooking offal on a regular basis, but loving every minute of it. That was before I cracked open Henderson's magnum opus, a cookbook that presents the fifth quarter openly, simply, and honestly. I can't say that about many of the other cookbooks I own. –RA
2005
Bones: Recipes, History, and Lore by Jennifer McLagan (Amazon
The precursor to McLagan's equally excellent 2008 cookbook Fat, Bones is responsible for getting me over my squeamish fear of cooking bone-in steaks, gnawing the good bits off the end of a chicken leg, and scraping the marrow out of veal shanks. It also uses the bone as a philosophical jumping-off point, boneless meats serving as a potent symbol for our increasing disconnect from the animals we're eating. It's also gorgeous to look at — not just in the austere, bleached ivory way the title might imply, but robustly, meatily beautiful. –HR
Charcuterie: The Craft of Smoking, Salting, Curing by Michael Ruhlman and Brian Polcyn (Amazon
A bible if ever there was one, Ruhlman's homage to the slow art of meat curing is an absolute masterpiece of single-minded commitment. Each preparation is minutely detailed, meticulously researched, exhaustively tested, and totally and completely doable (assuming you have the time, the humidity control, and easy access to lots of pork). These are recipes totally worth risking botulism for. –HR
2006
Happy in the Kitchen by Michel Richard with Peter Kaminsky (Amazon
It's always mystified me that Michel Richard hasn't attained the kind of global, slavering fans that attend chefs like Thomas Keller, Eric Ripert, and Grant Achatz. But maybe he likes it that way: his D.C. based restaurants are far and away the best in town, thanks in part to Richard's giddy, boyish playfulness with his ingredients and flavors. This cookbook — packed with trompe l'oeil dishes, visual puns, bait-and-switch preparations, and just plain bright and shiny recipes — captures Richard's effervescence. On top of that, for all the whimsy and spectacle, it's completely cookable: Romaine on Romaine and the asparagus-stuffed salmon are in regular rotation in my kitchen. –HR
2007
The River Cottage Meat Book by Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall (Amazon
It's intimidating how much Fearnley-Whittingstall knows about meat — so much that didn't make it into the first River Cottage cookbook is in this volume, and he's probably got a lot left over still to tell. Although it's full of gorgeous shots of meat and sumptuous recipes, this is mostly about the information: page after page of text on cuts of meat, how to store them and cook them, when to use them, and how to talk to your butcher about them. Anything you need to know to be a better carnivore is in these pages. –PF
2008
Alinea by Grant Achatz (Amazon
I'm not sure if any other cookbook has ever been as hotly anticipated as Alinea — and it didn't disappoint. The actual recipes from Grant Achatz's genre-busting Chicago restaurant may not be manageable for most of us, but they're conceptually fascinating and meticulously explained. The fact that the book is absolutely gorgeous doesn't hurt, either. –PF
Eat Me: The Food and Philosophy of Kenny Shopsin (Amazon
This idiosyncratic, beautifully-designed cookbook demolished all the rules of the genre — what other cookbook mentions masturbation? Uncannily capturing Shopsin's raw, unedited humor and philosophy, Eat Me is a backstage pass into a legendarily tiny kitchen that can generate hundreds, if not thousands, of varieties of dishes within mere minutes. It's an inspirational and genuine piece of literature, a too-short biography of a prodigal chef, and a chronicle of a New York City long-gone. Also, it gives you a much better idea of what to order. –RB
On the Line by Eric Ripert and Christine Muhlke (Amazon
Most restaurant-based cookbooks promise that between their covers lies the soul of the restaurant, with varying degrees of accuracy. Ripert's everything-including-the-kitchen-sink snapshot of Le Bernardin is equal parts scrapbook, inventory, philosophy textbook, intimate autobiography, and masterful cookbook. Once you start turning the pages, it's almost impossible to stop until you've reached the very end. –HR
The Big Fat Duck Cookbook by Heston Blumenthal (Amazon
Quite possibly the most opulent cookbook every created, this is both an artistic and gastronomic achievement of epic proportions. From its fairytale-like beginning through the seemingly-impossible recipes to its brain-numbingly complex scientific conclusion, Blumenthal's masterwork is unparalleled. –PF
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