I am not sure why this book has garnered such rave reviews. While many of the recipes are interesting in theory, they are so negligently written and so poorly tested that they simply cannot be trusted to turn out edible food. Let us take two examples.
The Sweet Potato Latkes recipe instructs the cook to form a mixture of grated sweet potato, minced onion, beaten egg, flour, and seasonings into two disks approximately 5 inches in diameter and 1 inch thick and cook in oil or butter on medium-high heat for 4 to 6 minutes per side. Aside from the minor quibble of whether something 1 inch thick is properly called a "latke," if you follow these instructions the very best thing that could happen is that the inside of your sweet potato cake would be raw. The worst thing that could happen is that the outside would be burned AND the inside will be raw. Actually, the worst thing that could happen is that you would get salmonella poisoning because the egg that is used to bind the mixture is not thoroughly cooked. Furthermore, butter is a very poor fat for high-heat frying, because the milk solids tend to burn. Finally, sweet potatoes have a different balance of water, starches, and sugars than white potatoes, so even if you somehow divine that you should be making small, thin cakes, you will not get nice crispy latkes with sweet potatoes. Not only does it seem that Emmons doesn't know very much basic food chemistry, it is clear that this recipe was not tested before it was published.
The Chocolate-Banana Cream Pie recipe is one I've made many times, but I have made so many adjustments to the recipe to make it workable that I can only credit Emmons for the idea, not for the actual recipe. For starters, the amount of butter called for is not nearly sufficient to bind the graham cracker crust together, and the amount of crust mixture is not enough to line the 10-inch pie plate Emmons requires. Let's see, what else? She does not specify a length for the four bananas called for in the recipe, but if you use four six-inch bananas, which are about the average size available in American supermarkets, there will not be enough room for the pastry cream mixture. (Two bananas are ample.) Finally, and perhaps most bizarrely, the recipe calls for 2 tablespoons of Irish whiskey but suggests as a substitute 2 tablespoons of vanilla. Yes, folks, that is an entire one-ounce bottle of vanilla! (Surely she meant 2 teaspoons. Again, a recipe tester would surely have caught this.)
This book is especially disappointing because it is not the work of a passionate amateur who could be forgiven for ignorant mistakes, but of a chef who proclaims on the back cover that she is a graduate of a fine French cooking school. It is almost as if she was so confident in her food knowledge that she felt she could pull recipes out of her ass without thinking through the chemistry and physics of food or subjecting the recipes to the rigors of testing.
Then again, I don't know what I expected. I used to go to Emmons's Cambridge restaurant, Veggie Planet, occasionally, and I almost always ordered what was, at the time, the only item on the menu that did not contain a giant pile of starch, namely, the misleadingly named Caesar salad. At the time, there were no eggs in the dressing, no anchovies, of course, and the salad contained vegetables other than Romaine. Would it have hurt Emmons to call this what it was, a mixed green salad? But what really cheesed me off about this salad is that every single bloody time I ordered it, it was delivered to me with gigantic pieces of unpeeled, raw broccoli stems. What was this inedible item doing in my salad, exactly? I can forgive one incident like this as a bad night for the kitchen, but multiple times indicates that the staff doesn't know better, or doesn't care.