Literary Nonfiction. Cooking. Licht's lyrical recipes turn our attention away from strict measurements and towards the sights and smells of our own pantries, our own fridges, and our own imaginations. A new book that feels oddly like a familiar classic. A reminder of the pleasure and the importance of living with what we have.
COOKING AS THOUGH YOU MIGHT COOK AGAIN is like an impossibly lucky yard sale find: a personal kitchen journal that was somehow written just for you. Like a handful of dry beans, Danny Licht's recipes grow, with a rustic everyday magic, to fill all your pots. Follow the rhythm, as I have, of this stern and sweet set of instructions and it will become your daily beat.--Cal Peternell
this is one of the most delightful things I have ever read and also for some reason I can't find more information on danny??? even though he has worked at chez panisse????
this cookbook thats not a cookbook feels EXTREMELY zine like in a delightful way. its small, reads like an essay collection, and the way it moves between meditations is really really cute. honestly, I resonated a lot with this in that cooking is seen as a chore. like BRUH. i am MARINATING that meat for u you better EAT IT.
if you cook (which is everyone) or consume food (which is also everyone) you should check this out
I read this in one all-too-brief sitting and it has become one of my favorite (yes, *favorite*) books.
“Cooking As Though You Might Cook Again” is a quiet, elegant bit of food writing that feels so warm and familiar, I could swear I just spent the evening in author Danny Licht’s kitchen nook, watching him gracefully follow his intuitive appetite from dish to dish until I (his guest and confidant) was satiated and maybe a little smitten.
This tiny book is a treasure. Understated yet wholly satisfying, it is both poetic and rustic, much like the meals he describes within.
I’ll leave you with the passage that precisely describes my nightly ritual, which is apparently Danny’s ritual, too:
“Some of my favorite books are cookbooks and I like reading them before bed. They soothe me, comfort me, console me, and excite me; they give substance to my dreams. Then in the morning, as I sit with my coffee, I get to wondering: what do I really want?”
this book says everything that i believe about food and cooking.
“all you need to cook well is a little faith in your own taste, which is to say you must use it, and often”
“i like excess in cooking because i like dealing with the consequences”
“what i like about cooking is that it is a way of seeing, holding, and pursuing my immediate interests. cooking is pleasurable for me only insofar as i can cook what i want to cook, but what i want is fragile, elusive, and changes depending on what is around”
This little book is perfect. I would say that it's magic, but Danny Licht would probably tell me that the only magic here is simply looking at what you have and beginning to find pleasure in it. This is a book of Stoic philosophy meant for the kitchen, and it is a pleasure from start to finish.
1) "To cook or not to cook: it is a new question in history. In the age of supermarket buffets and liquid meal replacements, cooking at home has never made less sense. Cooking has become a luxury on the one hand and a chore on the other, and it is both of these too much, and it is neither one quite enough, and it has made me wonder, against the odds, against reason, and against common sense: what exactly is cooking for?"
2) "I wonder if this widespread availability of detailed instruction discourages home cooks from thinking about what they are doing while they are doing it. It is an amazing thing that one can now be considered a great cook without actually knowing how to cook anything at all."
3) "Cooking for me often begins in the pantry, where I find beans. I like beans and regret that they are not given a chance by so many. They are too humble to be seen, too small for common fantasy. It should not be this way. Beans are nutritious, delicious, versatile, and cheap, glamorous in their little way. I am at peace when I know I have a pot of beans in the fridge, ready to make into lunch.
When I cook beans, I cook too many. I do this on purpose. I start with a pound of dried beans―cannellini, navy, kidney, or cranberry, though every bean has its appeal. I sort through them for small stones and soak them in water, covered by a few inches, overnight. A pound of beans will make more than four servings and fewer than ten. I like this kind of ambiguity in cooking. It pushes me to keep an open mind, and to err on the side of excess. I like excess in cooking because I like dealing with the consequences."
4) "Probably you will want to know how long the beans will take to cook. It is a normal, obvious question yet difficult to answer directly. The truth is that I don't really know how long anything takes to cook. No one does, and no recipe can tell you. Given that the production of the earth is variable, and so are ovens and so are stoves, not to mention the tastes of individuals, any cooking time is always a suggested cooking time. I can tell you that soaked dried beans take about an hour to cook, but they can take anywhere from half an hour to two hours depending on the age of the beans, the qualities of the water, the intensity of the flame, and so on. In the end, the only relevant rule here is that things should be cooked until they are done."
5) "Everything in cooking is optional, including the cooking itself. Cookbooks are just books, which are just ideas."
6) "Garnish is a final intervention, and it begins by looking at what lies before you, and asking yourself what could make it more beautiful, because that is what will make it more delicious."
7) "Cooking is about knowing what to add and when to add it. The way to learn this — how to cook — is through attention and repetition."
8) "You will notice that the amount of onion that I suggest (one) remains invariable for an undisclosed number of servings (two to six, let's say). How is this possible? It is possible because it just doesn't matter very much. Everything involved here is delicious. Rice is delicious, onion is delicious, garlic is delicious, broth is delicious. In combination with salt, pepper, and cheese, one simply cannot go wrong. Of course a very serious cook with a very refined palate and a reputation to uphold will want to cook with great consistency and exactness. But I am young and free; I want to eat well and soon, not perfectly."
9) "Failed, broken mayos have left me feeling impotent and despondent, confused and irritable."
This is not so much a cookbook as it is a philosophy of how to approach cooking (and eating). The recipes punctuate the author's encouragement to experiment, iterate, and be kind to yourself. This book likely won't teach you technique or give you a new recipe. It may, however, stick with you as you decide what to eat, how to shop for ingredients, and how to process your successes and failures in the kitchen. Next time I want to deviate from a recipe, or make up my own with what I have on hand, this book will be on my mind.
It is short, clearly written, and meditative. My favorite passage (which is also on the back cover):
"I want the food I eat to be good for me and to feel good in me, to taste good, to be reasonably inexpensive, and I want to come by it more or less ethically. In that order, actually. It is lucky that these things do not need to be at odds with each other."
I love this little book. Licht's writing so tender, the way he speaks about how we cook and what that means for how we live is almost like a lullaby. I read this book for the first time a year or two ago and have thought about it often since. How can you do anything except love the way of looking at things-- such as debates on the 'right' amount of salt in our diets-- that produces the phrase, "My delusion is that beautiful things are generally true, and I think it is beautiful to imagine that food that tastes good and feels good is good for the body. Only time will tell, but I have faith in the good."
actually like such a warm, simple & luxurious read. plain like a rich yogurt. useful & elegant, yet super unpretentious. maybe one of my favorite books ever, now. i can't wait for the farmer's market on sunday so i can get my lover & i some exciting produce.
read in one sitting. amazing piece of food writing! loved the laissez faire approach to cooking, with emphasis on seasonality and intuition. also loved how each recipe flowed into the next. I highlighted so many passages. will definitely be returning to this!
Don't know if I've ever been moved by a cookbook before, but I guess this is more manifesto than cookbook.
I loved it! I really did. There's something very reassuring about just "here's some basics on how to cook. And also, why to cook" without being preachy. There's a radical acceptance to it that most of those "simple" cooking books can't touch. Like, yah, buy good ingredients and make simple things from them. But also: it's ok if you don't! as long as you enjoy it!
If you're the sort of person who is repulsed by a cookbook that begins with "Against Recipes", then yeah, avoid this. It's not gonna do it for you. But if you want to have a sense of reassurance and confidence in the kitchen while trying new stuff - or shoot, even outside the kitchen - then this is a really valuable book.
Each recipe flows into the next like a collection of essays might build upon the previous one. Cooking is a practice, a devotion, and this small book which reads like a zine, is an ode to the act of creating in the kitchen. I’ll try to keep a cookbook by my bedside.
This read like poetry, or a really good affirmation. As a hobbyist home cook, I’ve always aspired toward a vague ideal of effortlessness, joy, spontaneity, and serenity in the kitchen. This unsuspecting little gem embodies all of that and more. I’ll be keeping this handy for years to come, for a quick pick-me-up whenever cooking becomes a chore.
I wasn’t surprised to learn that Licht worked at Chez Panisse - his style definitely registered as hippie and unfussy. Quite refreshingly so, coming off my obsession with Marco Pierre White and Haute cuisine earlier this year. MPW is still my idol, but you don’t just whip up tagliatelle of oysters on a weeknight, if you know what I mean. I’ll have to check out the Chez Panisse book now, I’m intrigued. But first, bean soup and roast chicken a la Danny Licht!
This sweet (yet somehow serious) little book made me cry! At the beginning, Danny Licht writes that he likes to imagine an old way of cooking, an Italian grandma in the kitchen with confidence, helping you to be confident in what you try and create too. “I will be your grandma.” Adorable. Towards the end he writes about how he likes to read cookbooks before bed and dream about what he’ll make: “Then in the morning, as I sit with my coffee, I get to wondering: what do I really want?” And I’m a sobbing mess because my grandma did exactly the same, every morning with her coffee asking what would taste good for dinner! Ugh, I was not expecting the emotion here, and maybe that’s a weirdly personal thing, but in any case I found it so sweet and relatable.
I’m not all that interested in the culture and literature around chez panisse, I’m sure it’s fine but it’s just never appealed all that much to me, but this was a lovely little slice of kitchen life without a lot of the extras that come with a memoir — I still feel like I know nothing about Danny Licht besides that he reminds me of my grandma in the best of ways. This reminded me in a much simpler way of Ruby Tandoh’s and Laurie Colwin’s books, in that it encouraged me to make an effort to cook more in the way that feels intuitive and delightful specifically to you.
“Your senses are much wiser than any recipe could be. They are what you have with you, and so they are the place you should begin.”
this is a lovely little book, and you should consider reading it if you enjoy cooking and eating.
i think the author's main idea is that cooking is more rewarding if you center it less around what's in Saveur, and more around you and your loved ones and what you like to cook and like to eat.
the book teaches a handful of core techniques, but i think more importantly lays out a way of thinking through what you have, so that you can cook more often without a recipe, instead using your intuition and senses.
it's more approachable, and i think simultaneously more elegant and less pretentious than salt fat acid heat (written by another chez panisse alum).
if you already know how to braise meat, make good beans, and cook a proper risotto, i think this book is still worth reading, because it's smart and nicely written. the focus is Italian food, but if your passion is elsewhere in the world of food, it still has some nice reminders and insights.
this book would make an especially good gift for someone who cares about food but hasn't received a 'classical' food education.
This book is a *gift*. Cooking but make it philosophy, recipes but make them gossip, food photos but make them the remnants of a meal well-eaten. I love that each "recipe" naturally flows into the next, a soliloquy of meandering meals.
Love the casual way they give instructions -- "Sometimes I make sure the potatoes are all cut-side down to ensure they get crispy... Sometimes I gently move the potatoes around after 15 minutes, or rotate the pan" -- reminds me of the spell casting in Uprooted, that the path is not the same every time. It's not precious about cooking -- such a relief! Makes me think of tacit knowledge, the stuff you kinda can't teach, the stuff you learn by doing something and doing a lot of it.
Favorite quote:
"My delusion is that beautiful things are generally true, and I think it is beautiful to imagine that food that tastes good and feels good is good for the body."
Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous. Only gripe is I wish there was more to it: the treatment of other vegetables, other favourite cuts of meat, eggs! That being said, Daniel Licht made me remember all the parts that I love about cooking: the expansive expressiveness of its inexactness, the joy of organic fluidity. Sometimes I forget that before I loved working as a line cook, I simply loved to cook. I loved piecing together ingredients in my head, I loved throwing shit together, I loved feeding the people around me utilising what I had. Reading this reminded me of that, and I so wish I could have read more.
Quite possibly the first time I’ve read an entire cookbook, cover-to-cover, in one sitting with a cup of tea. Best book of the year, by far.
This is how I cook. No one taught me how, but simple and unfussy ingredients insist upon being listened to. This is the reason I never write down recipes, or duplicate a meal.
That said, this book is written in prose, it’s beautiful language leaves me wanting to curl up in front of the fire with the author while dreaming aloud about what we want to eat next.
This is a very pleasantly written little poem of a book. Is it actually helpful for cooking? I don't know as I'd go so far as that. It's very go with the flow in a way that maybe is not actually helpful for people who are just starting out, just learning how to cook for themselves. And for more experienced cooks, I wouldn't say that it added anything.
nothing has been more singularly motivating for me to enjoy food and the act of making it,, taking care of the body nourishment core. also just a beautiful print n photo pacing my paper consumption brain zoomed
ty for gift Sunday it has found me at right time :) miss u
This book is an absolute joy to read. The straightforward contentment and pleasure with cooking blended with practical and gentle wisdom have ensured that this book will always be near at hand both in the kitchen and out of it.