A riveting narrative history of food as seen through 100 recipes, from ancient Egyptian bread to modernist cuisine.
We all love to eat, and most people have a favorite ingredient or dish. But how many of us know where our much-loved recipes come from, who invented them, and how they were originally cooked? In A History of Food in 100 Recipes , culinary expert and BBC television personality William Sitwell explores the fascinating history of cuisine from the first cookbook to the first cupcake, from the invention of the sandwich to the rise of food television.
A book you can read straight through and also use in the kitchen, A History of Food in 100 Recipes is a perfect gift for any food lover who has ever wondered about the origins of the methods and recipes we now take for granted.
Review I was going to say the book should really be named 'a History of Horribly Bland and Overcooked English Food in 100 not very good Recipes" but actually it seems that English food once tasted pretty much ok. The climate of the UK may be pretty appalling for people apart from the one week in summer when everyone complains it's too hot, but it is ideal for pasture and vegetables, meaning the quality of the food was very fresh and good and so didn't need disguising with (the delicious) sauces the French blanketed everything in. Additionally, the rich could afford imported spices to jazz things up and everyone drank ale or wine anyway so may not have been too fussy about the food.
But when Mrs. Beeton came along and wrote her influential cookbook on household management, it was overcooked vegetable and bland sauces all the way. Mrs. Beeton couldn't cook and didn't cook, she had a cook, and all her recipes were other people's, or from her cook. Apparently Mrs. Beeton had a stomach problem and so preferred her food bland and easily digestible meaning, overcooked. A typical meal was boiled mutton with parsley sauce, boiled cabbage and boiled, mashed potatoes. It's no wonder that the British were so enthusiastic about curries and brought back Indian cooks with them.
It's quite a good book, I really do like William Sitwell as a restaurant critic judge on Masterchef UK, and as an author, he's such a good writer. He has some interesting titbits to relate, not least about the his great grandfather who invented a miniature pistol to kill wasps. He also had a sign on the gate of his stately pile, “I must ask anyone entering the house never to contradict me in any way, as it interferes with the functioning of the gastric juices and prevents my sleeping at night.” Quite!
Also about fois gras __________
Reading notes When I was making a film in North Wales, our contact took us out salmon tickling one night. In waist-deep waders he stood in the freezing waters of a stream. He put his hands in to 'tickle' the salmon, and in a few minutes pulled one out. Back at the farmhouse, he buttered tinfoil, added herbs and then wrapped the fish in it and threw it on the fire. It was the most delicious thing I had ever eaten. Until...
Years later, in the Caribbean my bf (now my ex-husband) caught a supermale parrotfish on a little reef no-one else knew about (if they did, there wouldn't be any supermale parrotfish!) took it to the beach, made a fire, and my bf who had prepared for this, buttered some tinfoil, scattered on herbs and sliced onions and threw it on the fire. It remains the most delicious thing I've ever eaten.
These two fishy events were separated by about 10 years, 5,000 miles and two utterly different climates and cultures, Welsh and West Indian. There is nothing like it in the book, but the methods were identical. I don't mind though. Just the memory of those tender, tasty fish that flaking on the fork, melting in my mouth...
Highly entertaining. Ideal before-bed reading: charming, witty, and made up of short two- and three-page sections that don't end in cliffhangers. Hard to pick a favorite chapter, but the one I think of most often is 22 - Henry VIII's alcoholic gelatin castles.
As a word of warning, the book ends with a whimper; once Sitwell reaches the modern era, and specifically his own adulthood, he loses perspective and starts namedropping instead of telling good stories. (And overestimating the historical importance - and universality - of his own personal taste for things like "slow food" and obscure iPhone apps.) You'll know when this happens because he starts assuming that the reader has a moral rage concerning microwaves and grocery stores and the way they are destroying the fabric of our society. Once you hit something that annoys you, stop; it doesn't get better after that. For me, this means I should have stopped around 1970, chapter 80 of 100.
But do be sure to get through at least chapter 69, when the Futurists make a dramatic appearance.
This book is so bland that I picked it up because this is exactly the kind of thing I like, read the first 10% and found something else to read. Then I forgot about that and picked it up again because this is exactly the kind of thing I like. And now I'm putting it down again. This is the cold potatoes with no salt or oil or spices of books.
Note to future me: This is the book where the author acknowledges that Apicius's kitchen was staffed by enslaved people and then, a page later, describes them as "lucky." And it is otherwise incredibly bland. For serious, future me, you do like this kind of thing, but you do not like this specific example of it. Don't try this again.
I was looking forward to this one. I thought the premise sounded promising, and that even if it couldn't really deliver a full hundred usable recipes, it would be hard to screw up entirely. Sitwell manages it very thoroughly, and with surprising speed.
William Sitwell, it turns it, is one of those English toffs who don't really know anything about anything, but to whom, because of their sheltered upbringing, it never occurs that that should induce them to shut up, that there are more knowledgeable people out there to whom they should defer—the sort of ass who holds actual research in a vague contempt, because if they don't know it, surely nobody really does? I'd say he's the written equivalent of Rick Stein, but Rick Stein is at least a trained chef as well as a useless twat. So the historical recipes there are turn out to be so poorly communicated as to be useless, and the ``context'' they're placed in is rife with common myths, half-remembered facts, and other crimes against the very concept of looking shit up before you write it down of various degrees of severity. (Even his editor gave up partway through, leaving the text riddled with dodgy grammatical constructions and scattershot punctuation.) Not that it matters much: Sitwell rushes through any part of history that could conceivably hold any interest, being well out of the Middle Ages after a mere twenty recipes, and reaching the 20th century only slightly past the halfway point of the book. The last fifteen or so recipes are all by British TV (and other celebrity) chefs. The modern recipes may or may not be more reproducible than the ancient ones—I don't even care. This is not a history of food.
The real shame isn't that Sitwell is a worthless hack who not only couldn't write a book with this title, but didn't even try—it's that because of his arrogance, now there won't a book called A History of Food in 100 Recipes that lives up to that title. Because I really wanted to read that book.
I have mixed feelings about this book which took me an unusually long time to read. Partly due to irrelevancies such as other books being up against a deadline but also because it was not an easy read in itself. It wasn't a 'last thing at bedtime' book being hard, unwieldy and the print and pictures being relatively unclear. And it lost its way pretty soon after starting - I always understood that this would not be a book you could cook your way through but when one of the alleged 'recipes' was merely about party giving rather than food I almost lost patience altogether.
Once into the 20th century Sitwell seemed on surer ground apart from some bet hedging about his market (UK or US) which ends with him doing justice to neither. I am not entirely sure whether the sure ground is actually nostalgia.
The strength of the book is in pinpointing influences, especially technological advances - the first cooker or refrigerator and the personal histories of the recipe authors are often fascinating.
This should really be called "A British History of Food In 100 Recipes", but aside from its extreme Eurocentricity, there's a lot to like here. I have to echo another reviewer and say it's perfect before-bed reading, light and quick and ... kind of fluffy. A ... sorbet? An after-dinner mint!
This book is a series of very short chapters on the individual histories of 100 recipes (and the people/corporations that wrote them) and not really a book about the history of food. The author tries to use humor throughout, but more often than not he comes off as flippant. My biggest complaint is the factual errors and misleading statements that pop up all the way through: the Aztecs did not serve the flesh of their human sacrifices to guests; Mediaeval Europeans did not use spices to cover up the taste off meat (they were far to precious commodities for that); fish and chips was not the food of the poorest in London; others. The book does offer some odd bits of interesting trivia here and there, but the reader should take the reliability of the information with caution.
This is clearly a product of love, much research and thought and hopefully the reader will cherish it with similar affection. Despite its title, there are not 100 recipes and neither are many of the recipes something you will probably try for a family meal, but don't let that put you off!
Here the author delves back through time and a myriad of recipe books and food books that have been published, wryly noting that many contain similar boastful, self-indulgent claims about their breadth, uniqueness or completeness as those that often appear today. The fruits of the author's labour are presented as a celebratory, knowledgeable, information and yet concise look at 100 dishes, many of which are still popular today (albeit with some modification at times) and many that may have fell by the culinary wayside.
Starting from Ancient Egyptian bread and working in a chronological order the reader is treated to such items as Roast Goat (30 BC), Pasta (1154), tips on party planning (1420), Hot Chocolate (1568) and even a revelation as to how the Englishman discovered the fork (1611). Time and food development marches on and in the past century featured dishes include Strawberry ice-cream soda, Toad-in-the-Hole, Omelette, Cheese Fondue, Fairy Cakes and Sweet and Sour Pork. For one reason or another, which will become clearer to the reader, the author has selected each recipe and pinned it to a specific place in the chronology for a reason. It might be due to an historical event, a "new" cook book or other writing, a new development or even due to a craze.
Truly a quirky, interesting, innovative and thought-provoking series of friendly, informative mini essays. Not every recipe from earlier times had been committed to paper, instead being often passed word-of-mouth or depicted in other forms such as tapestries. As such, the author has been forced to recreate and salvage these recipes and much information from many disparate sources. For the curious gastronome, this shall be no problem. It is clear that you are not going to use this book as a centre for your family meal planning, yet the curious may use this as a base for recreating meals from the past and maybe even be encouraged to undertake similar culinary detective work. Not every recipe has necessarily been found under a layer of metaphorical dust, as there are some contributions and takes on older food from many modern-day top chefs and cooks such as Jamie Oliver, Nigella Lawson, Marco Pierre White, Delia Smith and Heston Blumenthal.
It is hoped that the author nor publisher are being done a disservice by saying that this is a book that the casual browser may pass by. The book (based on viewing a digital version rather than receiving a physical copy) gives the impression of being a little subdued. Not quite a dry academic text book but one of those "hard to categorise, hard to promote" books. Yet those with an interest of food (or a general curiosity) will miss out on a treat if they pass this one by. Even if you read one mini-essay per day you will have many months of a "daily boggle" to keep you and your friends and family amused and amazed.
A fairly extensive "select bibliography" (running to several pages) and a great index complete this book. As stated, if you are a curious sort of person, perhaps love food more than just the taste of it and wish to broaden your horizon this is the sort of book for you. For reading at home and for reference purposes the physical book will probably be best, but its size might make it less desirable as a travel companion. Fortunately, there is a eBook available - but with current pricing and market conditions you will be buying the same thing twice. That is a decision for you and a thought for the publishing industry at-large...
A History of Food in 100 Recipes, written by William Sitwell and published by Collins/HarperCollins UK. ISBN 9780007411993, 352 pages. Typical price: GBP20. YYYY.
// This review appeared in YUM.fi and is reproduced here in full with permission of YUM.fi. YUM.fi celebrates the worldwide diversity of food and drink, as presented through the humble book. Whether you call it a cookery book, cook book, recipe book or something else (in the language of your choice) YUM will provide you with news and reviews of the latest books on the marketplace. //
This was a light, enjoyable read. I read it out of order, a few chapters at a time, depending on what recipe/country/time period I was interested in at the time, and I don't think that ruined my enjoyment of the book at all. The historical bits are a lot more engaging than the modern chapters (post-1970 didn't seem to add much to the book, for me anyway).
To be honest, the book left me a little off-kilter in the beginning. For one thing, it is extremely anglo-centric, so calling this a 'History of Food' is rather grandiose. It didn't feel like there was any single cohesive story about food that the book was trying to get at. I think the title of the book informed by expectations, and led me to expect a book version of Netflix's Cooked, and my expectations didn't match the book. Instead, this reads like a series of (very well written) essays on culinary history, specific recipes, and influential figures in the industry.
So if you're looking for essays on food, this is your book. If you want a story about food, this one doesn't quite cut it. This is the sort of book that's really great to dip in and out of, a Sunday paper of a book, filled with lots of entertaining and shareable snippets. My favourite thing about the book is the writing. Sitwell is accessible, charming, witty and clearly passionate about the subject. I look forward to reading more Sitwell, library willing!
2.5 stars rounded down because honestly fuck this guy.
I begrudgingly learned a few things from this tome despite the fact that is written in mediocre, self-indulgent prose and forced into a pseudo-chronological straitjacket that suffocates any semblance of a narrative arc mr. Sitwell (again, fuck that guy) intended to create
I wanted to love this book. I mean really, food history is the sort of thing I file away in the dark corners of my brain so that I can whip out facts like 'garbanzo beans have been cultivated for so long that food historians don't know where the plant originated. Hummus has been eaten so long that the recipe predates writen records." Which I'm sure you can imagine makes me really popular at dinner parties.
The point is that food history is interesting to me. This book wasn't. The chapters didn't flow, and I often felt the recipes that were included were ones that just fell into the authors lap, not necessarily the best example of whatever point Sitwell was trying to make. Which was another problem, I just didn't understand what points the various recipes were supposed to be illustrating.
There were interesting bits. (I almost said tidbits, but I thought that might make it seem I was straining for some sort of food pun.) the fact that literally for hundreds and hundreds of years people have been saying things like "X is not worth eating unless you get it from Y"
My favorite food trivia from the book? The breakfast cereal Franken Berry, which my mother would never let me have no matter how much I begged, had some pretty powerful food coloring. It did not breakdown when ingested. Which lead to what became known as "Franken Berry Stool," print pink poop. So...thanks mom for keeping me and my poop safe!
I think the fact that one sentence about bright pink poop is one of the memorable parts of the book pretty much sums up why I only gave it two stars.
I’m a sucker for any book on the history of food since I love to cook and the origin of the recipes fascinates me.
The recipes in this book range from ancient ones for bread to more modern offerings like Asian salads, Steamed salmon with couscous and Fairy cakes. The earlier recipes are not recipes as we know them, and I wouldn’t recommend trying them even if you could source the ingredients, but they’re interesting none the less. Mr. Sitwell tells us stories of the past and the people who influenced food and wrote recipe books. We learn of the first known use of the recipes, the available equipment, and the interesting social details that give us a clear picture of the past. The book is written in a chatty manner with dry humor. It’s a book meant to be taken in small bites rather than read in one or two long gulps.
I enjoyed reading A History of Food very much and know I will refer to it often. The more modern recipes are ones I will make—in fact I’ve tried a couple already. I found this book interesting and learned lots of things I hadn’t previously known. A History of Food is the perfect book to give to a keen foodie as a birthday, Christmas or surprise gift. Highly recommended.
I received an ARC from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
Interesting, although the writing is a tiny bit too breezy and cutesy for me. The recipes which begin each of the hundred brief chapters serve as the hook on which to hang a significant change in the food world: famous chefs and cookbooks (Escoffier, Joy of Cooking, Julia Child, Adria), new equipment (the fork, the stove, the electric mixer), commercial behemoths (Campbell's Soup, Betty Crocker, Rice Krispies). This flexible organization allows him to discuss the diet of London's poor in the 19th century, vegetarianism, the reason we call the big bird "turkey" instead of "mexico," and anything else that comes up. Some of the chapters are fascinating; others are perhaps too slight to do justice to their subject.
An interesting side note: I have always been annoyed by publishers who think it is necessary to "translate" a book written for a British audience into Americanese, changing all the lifts to elevators and the lorries to trucks. This book was written by a Brit, for a UK audience, and has been published in the US unchanged. Some of the slang is incomprehensible, food examples are occasionally perplexing, and several chapters deal with UK TV chefs who had no effect on US cooking -- it's refreshing.
Many of my childhood memories are tied with food since my father was a chef and loved to cook and my mother enjoyed showing us the foods of Japan. As a child, I was exposed to many different types of foods which was both exciting and terrifying. As an adult I am thankful for that exposure since it allowed me to try new things and experiment with cooking too.
It was interesting to see simple foods like oatmeal or porridge now a days being enjoyed as a healthy breakfast alternative while in the past it was a food of necessity and the poor. I wonder why other cultures and countries want to know where their food came from and why here in America many of us just don't care. Maybe in ignorance we don't feel as guilty wasting food or facing the consequence of eating poorly made foods.
This is not in itself a bad book. It certainly started off well with a review of historic recipes and cookery. However an opportunity to write a far better book has been missed.
The book ran far too swiftly through the first couple of thousand years of cookery and then got bogged down in interminable reviews of British, American and occasionally French cooks of the last couple of decades.
We can only hope that another publisher has a go at printing the book that this could have been: a great review of recipes and ingredients around the world in their cultural and historical context. And such context doesn't just mean the Anglo-Saxon world post 1900 or so.
This is more of a history of cookbooks in Western societies than a history of food. It's still an entertaining read if you like cookbooks (which I do) but it leaves you wondering what the rest of the world was eating. You'd also think a history of food might discuss advances in farming techniques, genetically modified food stuffs, high fructose corn syrup but few references to these developments are found.
As a foodie, who also likes history, the title attracted me. There were some fascinating sections especially the early ones like the chapter on bread. However, it soon became tedious, difficult to get into and after a couple of sections the writing style was monotonous. Unlike a recipe book it wasn’t easy to dip in and out of, the style demanded a lineal read through.
First half of this book was tremendously engaging but once it got to Europe and started to neglect the everyman/woman recipes and ordinary people's recipes forget it. Too Euro and Brit centered. NOT a history of food, more a history of British recipes. I was thankful to finish the book, which was a strange feeling as I'd started it with incredible enthusiasm and interest.
Fascinating concept - tracking the history of food through 100 select recipes. Extremely well produced and written with genuine dilligence. However, the prose is decidedly pedestrian. I can image that someone like Adam Gopnik would make so much more out of this...
This book started out promising, but its flaws eventually overtook my enjoyment and I put it down partway through chapter 49. At first I was off-put by the fact that it's a very Eurocentric (and even a very British-French-Italian centric, most of the time) history of food. But then the few chapters that actually discuss food that didn't have a huge impact on Western European cuisine (such as the chapter on congee) just really feel disconnected from the rest of the chapters.
Additionally, the chapters on Aztec food are inexcusably racist. For example: Though these are not the only instances. One can feel that Sitwell didn't spend much time while writing this book challenging his preconceived notions about the history of food, race, gender, etc. Even when he wasn't outright mocking cultures, it felt like he was snidely judging ancient people and historical figures for their food choices and also their life choices -- something that was clearly meant as light-hearted humor but just felt very mean-spirited to me after a while.
The book does speed through the history of food until we get to the 17th century in chapter 28, which was a disappointment to me because I found this part of the book the most interesting. I'm sure it's in part due to the fact that we have more recipes from the more recent past, but I found the very different dishes in earlier history much more interesting, and I felt that Sitwell's tongue in cheek style was more to my taste in the earlier chapters. I do also feel like Sitwell's context for the recipes in the earlier chapters felt more "on task". Chapter 5 "To salt ham" talked about salting and meat preservation in that part of food history. But Chapter 48 "Cupcake" talks briefly about cupcakes and spends most of the rest of the time talking about the personal history of the recipe's author, Eliza Leslie. That chapter fell particularly flat from the fatphobia, but is very illustrative of the style of much of the chapters. So their interest to me becomes completely dependent on how interesting the personal life of the recipe author was.
I just feel that the scope of the book was overambitious for what Sitwell wrote (narrowing down his country or his stated goal or time period would've really helped) and that his unexamined race, gender, class, etc. biases really stood in the way of me enjoying the book that he did write.
This is a really neat idea, but it turns out I know just enough food history already to spot a number of glaring errors, and as they piled up I got more and more irritated at Sitwell for not doing his homework and understanding thoroughly what he was talking about. I would really like the version of this book that is grounded in deep research and wide understanding and not so much about trying to be funny and snarky about the eating habits of people in the past.
Yes, it Is not a regular cookbook. You find there 100 recipes you could try home, but you Are not going to try majority of them. Author provides you with thrilling background of 100 well picked stories that have influenced the world of food in good or bad way. Comments on some of them with specific humor And strong own opinion but still presents facts And what He has found in libraries, old sources And all well researched. First time I Did not like it, but last month I was enjoying every bit of it.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Less interesting than I had hoped, although there are a few tidbits of interesting information. Mostly, i was put off by Sitwell's attempts at humor and his disdain for certain types of cooking and recipes. I did enjoy the food history tho. further reservations - first, the book is very western cetnric, although perhaps it is expecting too much for Sitwell to include Asia and other areas. There are a couple of recipes from outside of Europe in the very early part of the book, but not after that except for a few from the US (so still very western centric). Secondly, I found the book very British - references to British culture and British history abound - and that made it difficult for me to understand what the author was trying to stay. Sitwell says in the book that he is a descendent of the poet Edith Sitwell and I found that interesting because I recently was looking at a first edition of one of her works. In any case, not really a book that I would recommend.
I'm a sucker for history told through various different lenses. My interest in food and cooking makes this a natural book to try.
I'm enjoying this fairly well but I'd enjoy it more if the author stopped making cracks at the expense of the historical figures he mentions. I'm sure he thinks of them as light humor, but they come off as silly since they largely judge ancient habits and customs against modern standards. Very tiring and doesn't add to the book. Although other than that I really like it.
UPDATE I'm going to return this to the library for now since I have too many other big nonfiction books partly underway. That way someone else can read this book and I'll pick it up later.
I heard about this one on Morning Edition a month or so ago and our collections lady was kind enough to indulge me and buy the library a copy.
Definitely heavier on the Western tradition and I certainly couldn't manage reading the whole thing, cover to cover. But it was fun to skip around a bit and read bits and pieces just when I had a moment. I really liked everything up until about 1960. Everything after didn't seem as interesting either because it wasn't noteworthy or I was familiar with how it evolved. Loved the story on Apicius and the other on the northern England's recipes for poor children.
A History of British Food in 100 Recipes From Books I Happen to Own would be a more accurate title. Combine an obnoxiously breezy style with an arrogantly narrow perspective and a biographical focus, this reads like a series of wikipedia entries about historical and contemporary chefs, as re-written by a freshman English student with a penchant for overwriting and no interest in proofreading.
Gets a second star because some of the recipes were interesting, if you could cut through the mess.
A thoughtful and loving approach, but note the honest use of the indefinite article: this is a history of English (or perhaps British) food. Older recipes cast a wider net, but it draws astutely from premodern selections which influence cooking in modern England. Even its American forays serve to highlight influences.
Not to detract from the book, which is honed, easy-to-read, and informative without excessive detail.
How does a book the size and heft of my thigh end up a rip-roaring page turner? A massive dense tome about medieval and ancient cookery, that's right-- how does THIS book make me laugh out loud and jot down recipe notes and generally just love the world a little better? I dunno, but it did. What a marvelous romp across the gustatory landscape of time and space, particularly as it leads up to this moment in British food.
This book was a lot of fun--although often I wasn't sure if the author was being snarky or factual. :/ I would also have loved a bibliography of sources or notes explaining some of the history. I guess I'll just take Williams' word for all of it. Much of the history must mean more to people in England, but I still enjoyed it.
Brilliant. Well-researched and beautifully written. I truly enjoyed the tone, and the author's passionate enthusiasm for the subject. Perfect for an armchair gourmand, a kitchen dilettante, or a serious home cook.