First issued in 1948, when soulless minute steaks and quick casseroles were becoming the norm, The Unprejudiced Palate inspired a seismic culinary shift in how America eats. Written by a food-loving immigrant from Tuscany, this memoir-cum-cookbook articulates the Italian American vision of the good life: a backyard garden, a well-cooked meal shared with family and friends, and a passion for ingredients and cooking that nourish the body and the soul.
This book is almost awesome. The sections in which Pellegrini waxes poetic on food, what makes a fulfilling life and reclaiming a connection with the earth in a modern age are all fantastic. In particular, his descriptions of growing up in rural Italy are stunning, detailed and hilarious. The long sections that amount to little more than well written recipes are the only thing that keep this book from majesty.
But like..... it's a pseudo-cookbook so of course there are recipes.
this man was a literature professor at UW and had his own fruits and vegetables growing in Seattle way before anyone in my family thought of living there. an Italian after my own heart. and his book could have been written yesterday, for its focus on quality, seasonal, local (as in, your backyard), resourceful eating. There's been something really wrong with the American relationship to food for a long long time, and he was decades ahead of the curve in pointing it out. food is joyful, and should be shared. pass it on. thank you Kesa!
i couldn't really get going on this book due to the heavy emphasis on eating animalia, on 'high food' (even as recognized or vindicated by peasants), and on the very particular (highly prejudiced, obviously) taste of the author. since i pretty much disagree with the underlying aesthetic framework here, uh, it was slow going and, ultimately, no going. but ! if you want to read why tongue is just as delicious as any 'fryer' or why, properly prepared, anything that moves could be moving deliciously into your gullet . .. go for it.
Oh! How I loved this book. I grew up in an immigrant neighborhood, and made faces at the "strange" smells in others' kitchens. I wish I'd been paying attention. This book, while written 60 years ago, reads as fresh and current. I will be digging up any and all books that Angelo Pellegrini has written. An absolute newfound favorite.
I read this wonderful book when I was in my 20s, and it was an eye-opener regarding how America approached food. Our lack of connection to the source of our food. Our lack of interest in being part of that process, and instead being comfortable with having everything processed for us. It was first published in 1948, but it was still relevant and substantial when I picked it up in the 1990s—especially to a kid raised on canned food in the 1970s. I re-read it regularly over the years, and one more time again as I worked on LOVE & SAFFRON, having somehow made Pellegrini a character in my novel! Times have changed. Much of what Pellegrini touts is now the regular stuff of Michael Pollan, blogs, Instagram posts, and urban home gardens. But dang it, this books holds its own and continues to inspire (and entertain) me. Now that I have space for it, I've planted my third garlic harvest in a row. Next up, I just need a cellar to make my own wine!
Delightful! This book was copyrighted in 1948. The author, born in Italy in 1903, immigrated to the U.S in 1912. Though he was highly educated (received a doctorate in Renaissance literature and Shakespeare) Pellegrini believed in the dignity of human toil and a life "rooted in the earth". He had great disdain for "shameful abundance" and pretentious food. This is one opinioned uomo! But his opinions are spot on. Here's an example: "From time to time their ranks (Americans) are invaded by foreigners of questionable antecedents who, eager to do anything but honest work, capitalize on American naivete by writing about food and drink that, in another clime, sustained their useless lives." (gasp!) Pellegrini (his surname means 'pilgrims') believes that good food should be enjoyed "with gratitude and thanksgiving". Bravo.
At times it was tough to remember this book was written in 1948. Pellegrini's prose is so alive and contemporary-seeming. I enjoyed this book for Pellegrini's perspective as an immigrant from the early 1900s, on food culture, and American culture, and his tidbits of what life had been like for him in rural Italy as a kid. The pages and pages of recipes, written as "do this and then do this" get a bit tedious if you're just reading it and not in front of a stove cooking, but this book could be kept as a cooking reference book. And it can be fun to read about complex food preparation, at times, even if what you know you're eating for dinner pales in comparison. Overall, Pellegrini strikes me as a deeply thoughtful person who also just enjoys life, food, and cooking, and loves to share it with people.
Humor and perspective are necessary when reading this book, as the title is misleading. Pellegrini was extremely prejudiced and discerning when it came to food, but he wrote with such uninhibited joy and delight about the pleasures and rewards of growing vegetables and cooking. I would love to have been a guest at his table.
did not expect how much i enjoyed this! Food writing from a snarky UW literature professor. Fascinating to see how different the landscape of American cooking was in the 40s (garlic as anathema??) and yet how similar (abundance and overconsumption.) discussion of immigrant experience was unexpectedly relatable.
An unexpected delight! Stumbled upon in one of Ruth Reichl's prefaces . . . His meditations predate so much of the unfortunate self-righteousness of the "food as social movement" rhetoric. A toast to life lived well!
Brilliant! Written in 1946 it's a book way ahead of its time, written by an Italian immigrant about how to appreciate and prepare good food from whole ingredients.
I can't say that I fully loved this book for as much as I admire the author's passion and his way of bringing simple, seasonal ingredients together in delicious combinations--ahead of his time in many ways, he does have a tendency to grate on the nerves because as sweetly pointed out by Alice Waters, unprejudiced he is not.
"I have always thought that Angelo Pellegrini misnamed his charming but opinionated book. It should have been called 'The Prejudiced Palate,' because he is so absolutely sure and unwavering in his vision of how to live a beautiful and delicious life." --Alice Waters, owner, Chez Panisse.
Pellegrini makes many good points about food, growing, cooking and eating but his oft condescending tone and sweeping generalizations of America, amateur cooks--particularly the dreaded housewife and her "unimaginative culinary routine"--make the chapters a bit of hit or miss. The best parts of the book for me were his descriptions of an immigrants life in America and the rise of ingredients like olive oil, garlic, and pasta that we take for granted today, but were once either exotic and hard to find or unpopular in this country. Pellegrini's recipe for the now ubiquitous pesto was published in Sunset magazine in 1946, the first major publication of a pesto recipe recipe. Pretty amazing to think about that now. Although not a cookbook per se, there are so many great little recipe ideas and cooking tips tucked into the pages of this little book that it makes the frustration in getting there worth it. Pellegrini was a master, just not someone I would have wanted to hang out with. ;-)
You can see my review and a recipe inspired by the book (for the Cook the Books virtual foodie book club) on my blog post here: http://kahakaikitchen.blogspot.com/20...
I enjoyed this book as one would enjoy summer reading at a cottage during a weekend getaway. It's light reading, episodic, adventurous, and it's skimmable. I read the episodes that resonated with me, skimmed some others, and when I was half way through I put it down (to finish next summer).
There are a lot of parallels between The Unprejudiced Palate and Anthony Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential. Let me catalog a few of them: Both narrators discover that opinions about food can give them a power in social situations. Both sneer at the ignorance of American cooks (although Pellegrini has more of a fatherly disapproval). Both ignore the well trodden path of cookbook writing, and prefer to write cultural critiques. Both write about a hidden world of gourmands... For Pellegrini it is the 1st generation immigrants whose talents for foraging, growing, and cooking are unleashed in America the land of abundance, as well as the white collar WASPS who have fetishized the European diet; for Bourdain it is the sweatshop world of immigrant kitchen staff as well as the Yuppies who glamorize the restaurant scene.
This hidden world is where the focus of the book resides. Pellegrini lives in an America where immigrant families still possess the knowledge of Old Word peasant food and the memory of scarcity. But they have been plopped down in a land of abundance, America. The historical accident produces an incredible vitality, in the culinary arts, but one could also read it as a 500 year explanation of the affect that America has had on every generation of immigrants.
Very interesting book. The focus is on how American react to foods from the perspective of someone who was immigrated at some point in the early 20th century. The book itself is about 60 years old at this point, but it feels like it could have been written yesterday. If you like reading about food, pick this one up. I'm very tempted to purchase a copy[return][return]Some rough highlights:[return][return]* We have a lot of food, but we seem to be at a loss at what to do with it.[return]* He really stresses trying to grow more of our own food. Grow what you cannot find in your stores. Things like unusual peppers and fruits, herbs that wilt quickly, salad greens. He's got lots of advice for how to also do it by combining food plants with decorative books. So far it's one of the better books I've read on gardening.[return]* Americans have a love and hate relationship with alcohol. The author describes getting rude looks for taking a shot of alcohol with breakfast, but is mystified by long cocktail parties with sugary strong drinks and little food. He also has a rather relaxed approach to teaching his kids to drink. They get watered down wine, if they want. Not surprisingly, he also recommends creating your own wine. His 150 gallon system might be a bit much for some folks though.
The first quarter of the book, in which the authors continuously scorns America (especially the uninspired, novice American housewife) had me gritting my teeth and reminding myself that he was speaking to the 1940's America and housewife. Nonetheless, it was an absolute slog and I nearly gave up on the book.
After that, the author moves on to explain his peasant upbringing in Italy and eventually immigration to the US and the book begins to pick up. Finally, about halfway through he begins to share recipes, though not in typical recipe book format (only charlatans would do such a thing) but in a more home-style, "sitting around grandpa's table" sort of way.
And yet, I'd be reading happily along and there would be another scornful zinger (hefty children and fat bottomed aunts, anyone?) sheesh.
I found that imagining the author as a curmudgeonly 90 year old grandfather (though he was only in his 40's when this book was published) helped me get through it.
That being said, speckled throughout, there are many delicious recipes, many good thoughts on gardening and our response to food and wine (my favorite is when eh compares eating pasta with a side to bread to eating mashed potatoes with french fries - I always thought it was rather redundant!)
If you were a resident of the NW, you knew about Pellegrini. If not, you had to wait for Alice waters to discover him for you. And listen to her make the quip voiced by just about anyone who ever read this book, "I'd say a more appropriate title would be 'The Prejudiced Palate'." I'm thinking he was aware of this himself when choosing the title.
An early 20th C immigrant from Italy, he was shocked by the waste he witnessed in America. but then where he came from even fertilizer was a scarce commodity.
He writes his recipes in the European style, like Elizabeth David - more of a text suggesting what is to be done ("If there is too much grease, dump some off", "Bake at a low temperature.") than the line by line instructions we are used to.
Each chapter starts out with a charmingly cranky little story, often followed by recipes. He instructs you how to lay out your garden.
Some of the recipes get to be a bit tedious to read after awhile, but his stories always engage your interest.
I wonder how his books in his immigrant experience, and his occasional return to Italy, hold up.
I am truly torn. I read this book in the course of one evening, devouring the Italian food philosophy that I myself embrace since I learned to cook in Rome in the late 90s.
I love the Italian way of cooking and looking at food: nurture a garden, share well-cooked meals family and friends, and have a passion for ingredients and cooking that nourish the body and the soul. But, simultaneously, I felt more than a little disdain in the author's voice. Like the Anthony Bourdain of his time - remember this book is over half a century old! - Pelligrini struck me as condescending to the audience and critical of this land of plenty. Both of those left me with a sour taste in my mouth.
I came back to this book after several years in response to Tamar Adler's An Everlasting Meal : Cooking with Economy and Grace. Neither book is really a cook book but you can cook from them. The delight is the feeling that you get to know someone on a quite personal level though only their kitchens and what they say about food. Pellegrini, despite his title, may be more violently prejudiced than Adler, his chapter titles less cutsey, but his kitchen seems to be warmer. Both books are a fine experience for those who like to think about food and cooking.
Definitely worth reading--although I would think it would help to bear in mind the date this was published: 1948. Although the prose gets a little flowery in places, I found many sections inspiring (I even wanted to start growing vegetables. This morning's outdoor chores put me off again, however).
I don't think many of us will cook exactly as Pellegrini describes. It's simply outdated. But it is good to be reminded of the importance of simple foods, pure methods, and how to look for simple pleasures in life.
I didn't actually read this edition, but rather the 1984 North Point Press edition. One main difference is that this one does not contain the afterward by MFK Fischer. But, I like having a book with the cover, so here it is.
chapter one is some of the best food writing i've ever read. i suspect that any foodie out there believes in the mystique of italy, and pellegrini understands this.
i like reading authors who have strong but harmless opinions, and food opinions are almost always of that sort.
Pellegrini's Italian palate is much more refined than mine, but once again I found myself frustrated at the lack of conclusions in the debate about food.
Also, there is nothing like the perspective of a foreigner to make me love Americans. Hate them, too, but love them, nonetheless.
The predecessor to Michael Pollan/Mark Bitman - eat good local food, prepared simply and you'll be all set. His chapter on wine making made me want to live in a house with a basement just so I could make my own wine... but I'll focus instead on the garden.
Although somewhat dated, many of the observations are timeless. Angelo relates how growing your own food and preparing it and serving it in good company can contribute to the good life.
Interesting to read Pellegrini's upbringing and philosophy about food, but not so interesting as to keep me excited for the whole book. I enjoyed it in small doses.