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Object Lessons
Recipe
Object Lessons is a series of short, beautifully designed books about the hidden lives of ordinary things.
Recipe reveals the surprising lessons that recipes teach, in addition to the obvious instructions on how to prepare a dish or perform a process. These include lessons in hospitality, friendship, community, family and ethnic heritage, tradition, nutrition, precision and order, invention and improvisation, feasting and famine, survival and seduction and love. A recipe is a signature, as individual as the cook's fingerprint; a passport to travel the world without leaving the kitchen; a lifeline for people in hunger and in want; and always a means to expand one's worldview, if not waistline.
Object Lessons is published in partnership with an essay series in The Atlantic .
Recipe reveals the surprising lessons that recipes teach, in addition to the obvious instructions on how to prepare a dish or perform a process. These include lessons in hospitality, friendship, community, family and ethnic heritage, tradition, nutrition, precision and order, invention and improvisation, feasting and famine, survival and seduction and love. A recipe is a signature, as individual as the cook's fingerprint; a passport to travel the world without leaving the kitchen; a lifeline for people in hunger and in want; and always a means to expand one's worldview, if not waistline.
Object Lessons is published in partnership with an essay series in The Atlantic .
- GenresNonfictionFood
160 pages, Paperback
Published June 30, 2022
2 people are currently reading
58 people want to read
About the author
Lynn Z. Bloom
94 booksLynn Z. Bloom, Emerita Distinguished Professor and Aetna Chair of Writing at the University of Connecticut and a passionate cook, her most recent book, Recipe (2023) mingles the most succulent, humanistic aspects of research, teaching, and living. So do Doctor Spock: Biography of a Conservative Radical (1972), Writers Without Borders (2008), The Seven Deadly Virtues (2008), her New Zealand Fulbrights, and teaching creative nonfiction in Florence.
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Displaying 1 - 13 of 13 reviews
March 29, 2022
What is a recipe? Lynn Z Bloom rattles through that one pretty quickly in her opening chapter because she knows this book isn't really about recipes. Its about food. But there would never be an Object Lesson book on Food - the scope is too big and there have already been plenty on types of food (and drink). But you can't talk about recipes without talking about food and so she positions the book in a weird hinterland between the two. She happily talks about the kinds of recipes there are - loose improvisational guidelines to test kitchen recommended precise instructions. She talks about the kind of cookbook authors there are - from home cooks with their twinkly folklore advice to high-powered TV chefs. She wisely spends quite a lot of time talking about how the internet has changed recipes, and handlily reminds us that her bibliography would be five times as long and inaccurate if she didn't trust us to google any of the recipes that seem interesting, But she really, really wants to talk about food.
I had no problem with that, and enjoyed Recipe a lot as a brief but meandering wander through food issues. The deep dive chapter on chocolate is where pretty much all pretence of being about recipes drifts away but replaces that with some of the starker economic and slavery costs of this gorgeous food. Recipes rely on plenty, food security, so what happens when you have none of that (the chapter on porridge will tell you that). In many ways the form of her book mimics what she says about recipes - an instruction manual that knows its readers will not follow to the letter. This is about recipes, but it isn't just about recipes, and isn't either the last word on recipes.
It was interesting that only when I thought about what was missing here that the book started to disappoint me (which means it will probably pass most peoples cursory enjoyment test). It is, as they often are, very US centric, which also means a broad assumption of knowledge of Julia Child, Iron Chef and no mention of Delia Smith (I would have been interested to compare the "cooking bibles" of various countries). No comparison of recipes with experiments - though their write ups are surprisingly similar. To that point no mention at all of the Anarchists Cookbook. And whilst there is some talk about the measurements involved and accuracy - no real mention of volume vs weight and the bugbear of everyone outside the USA following a US recipe - the cup measure (or indeed a stick of butter). That's all fine, Object Lessons are short and at the whim of the writer who here has decided not to go down an memoir route. My disappointment in these topics being skated is merely due to the knowledge that she would have done it really well - as everything else here is.
I had no problem with that, and enjoyed Recipe a lot as a brief but meandering wander through food issues. The deep dive chapter on chocolate is where pretty much all pretence of being about recipes drifts away but replaces that with some of the starker economic and slavery costs of this gorgeous food. Recipes rely on plenty, food security, so what happens when you have none of that (the chapter on porridge will tell you that). In many ways the form of her book mimics what she says about recipes - an instruction manual that knows its readers will not follow to the letter. This is about recipes, but it isn't just about recipes, and isn't either the last word on recipes.
It was interesting that only when I thought about what was missing here that the book started to disappoint me (which means it will probably pass most peoples cursory enjoyment test). It is, as they often are, very US centric, which also means a broad assumption of knowledge of Julia Child, Iron Chef and no mention of Delia Smith (I would have been interested to compare the "cooking bibles" of various countries). No comparison of recipes with experiments - though their write ups are surprisingly similar. To that point no mention at all of the Anarchists Cookbook. And whilst there is some talk about the measurements involved and accuracy - no real mention of volume vs weight and the bugbear of everyone outside the USA following a US recipe - the cup measure (or indeed a stick of butter). That's all fine, Object Lessons are short and at the whim of the writer who here has decided not to go down an memoir route. My disappointment in these topics being skated is merely due to the knowledge that she would have done it really well - as everything else here is.
July 25, 2022
Another interesting and thought-provoking volume in the wonderful Object Lessons series, this time about recipes, and about food in general, a somewhat meandering and personal wander through recipes and cookbooks, but with not too much actual memoir which is a good thing. (Some of these Object Lessons are really too self-indulgent). I’d never given any thought before to what a recipe actually is and now I have, thanks to this wide-ranging and eclectic exploration of the subject.
March 12, 2024
Who knew there could be so much written about the concept of recipes?? I love the idea of a good cook being compared to a jazz musician when they riff off of an existing recipe. Like adding something to the melody to make it your own with what you’re feeling in the moment.
March 22, 2022
I look forward to every instalment of Bloomsbury Academic’s “Object Lessons” series which is getting better with every release. The latest volume, “Recipe” by Lynn Z. Bloom, takes a wry but deep dive into the history of the ubiquitous recipe to uncover its secret life and ongoing effect on our lives, both personally and globally.
Each chapter of the book examines and deconstructs a recipe of a well-known dish in a fun and accessible way, yet it is still a very academic book and incredibly interesting, sparking many a “I never knew that!” moment.
The book includes a bibliography and lists of further reading, and an index. Lynn also provides a recipe for blueberry pie which sounds delicious. “Recipe” is highly recommended for cooking enthusiasts and professional chefs alike; you’ll never look at a recipe in the same way again.
Each chapter of the book examines and deconstructs a recipe of a well-known dish in a fun and accessible way, yet it is still a very academic book and incredibly interesting, sparking many a “I never knew that!” moment.
The book includes a bibliography and lists of further reading, and an index. Lynn also provides a recipe for blueberry pie which sounds delicious. “Recipe” is highly recommended for cooking enthusiasts and professional chefs alike; you’ll never look at a recipe in the same way again.
April 13, 2022
I read this courtesy of NetGalley. It's out in May.
This is an eclectic book. It's not an in-depth examination into the social, cultural or culinary history of the recipe - and it doesn't want to be that. This is more whimsical, more meandering, more dip-a-toe-into-interesting-spaces than that.
It's also super American; I feel I should flag that for all the other non-US readers. There's a whole chapter on Thanksgiving - and I get why you would do that, but also there's no acknowledgement that it's restricted as "a recipe" to one country and its diaspora. And in the first chapter, about the basics of what a recipe is, the author uses the idea of chicken stock to elaborate on the idea of variation. Which makes sense! But then says this: "Every version of this basic recipe involves the same ingredients in the same proportions - the amount of chicken in the recipe is always five pounds" (12). Um. Not in my recipes? Even given that maybe she just couldn't be bothered mentioning that other countries might use different measurements, it's still a weirdly sweeping generalisation. (This one might be picked up in editing, but the author also refers to "the Great British Baking Show" which struck me a really WEIRD mistake.)
ANYWAY. Despite those things, I did enjoy reading this a lot. I love Bloom's idea that "as a literary genre and social construct, multi-faceted and complex, a recipe in its human context offers lessons in life and living" (3) - that's such a fantastic way of putting it. Throughout the book, she shows those different aspects of the idea of 'a recipe'. And also made me feel better about the fact that I often don't follow a recipe to the absolute letter (except in baking, which is chemistry) - she says this is indeed what people everywhere always do. I love the idea of recipe as story, and as memory. I'm less wild about it as a symbol of power or politics, but absolutely accept that it can be.
All up, a really great read. Also it's made me dead keen to find other books in the Object Lesson series: a book on the eye chart? on exits? THE TRENCH COAT??
This is an eclectic book. It's not an in-depth examination into the social, cultural or culinary history of the recipe - and it doesn't want to be that. This is more whimsical, more meandering, more dip-a-toe-into-interesting-spaces than that.
It's also super American; I feel I should flag that for all the other non-US readers. There's a whole chapter on Thanksgiving - and I get why you would do that, but also there's no acknowledgement that it's restricted as "a recipe" to one country and its diaspora. And in the first chapter, about the basics of what a recipe is, the author uses the idea of chicken stock to elaborate on the idea of variation. Which makes sense! But then says this: "Every version of this basic recipe involves the same ingredients in the same proportions - the amount of chicken in the recipe is always five pounds" (12). Um. Not in my recipes? Even given that maybe she just couldn't be bothered mentioning that other countries might use different measurements, it's still a weirdly sweeping generalisation. (This one might be picked up in editing, but the author also refers to "the Great British Baking Show" which struck me a really WEIRD mistake.)
ANYWAY. Despite those things, I did enjoy reading this a lot. I love Bloom's idea that "as a literary genre and social construct, multi-faceted and complex, a recipe in its human context offers lessons in life and living" (3) - that's such a fantastic way of putting it. Throughout the book, she shows those different aspects of the idea of 'a recipe'. And also made me feel better about the fact that I often don't follow a recipe to the absolute letter (except in baking, which is chemistry) - she says this is indeed what people everywhere always do. I love the idea of recipe as story, and as memory. I'm less wild about it as a symbol of power or politics, but absolutely accept that it can be.
All up, a really great read. Also it's made me dead keen to find other books in the Object Lesson series: a book on the eye chart? on exits? THE TRENCH COAT??
April 3, 2022
First, replace your semolina with semiotics. This academic book guides us through the titular concept, in ways that might, and yet might struggle to, grab the average browser. The first chapter looks at the way a recipe book, or blogsite or utube channel, conveys the recipe format, and uses chicken soups as a way to show how technicality level and other aspects all vary even when discussing the one and the same thing. Secondly, we're looking at how recipes are the tip of the iceberg, and there's a lot of ancient stuff underneath that carried the berg out to sea – chefs looking at ways others do it, and/or their grandmothers. (I so hate recipe books when the page is wasted with the cook saying how it was a chance encounter with an Antiquistan goatherd that taught her to do this or use that – but hey, at least the grebo with multiple flesh-rings in the local street market made it more westernised and perfect for your little Johnny of a TV meal!! Nobody. Cares. Except the people that do, and they don't count.)
A chapter on comfort foods is next, and the author nearly starts to pick apart the food as opposed to the dish (that kind of thing is reserved for chocolate, later). But not for the first time there is mention of a post-recipe world, where everybody knows what things do, and so things are thrown together based on what's in the fridge still, and something new is made by us each time we cook. In sheer contrast to that is Thanksgiving, where we don't get a recipe for the food – we get a recipe for the entire day. And also in contrast to the post-recipe world is the pre-recipe idea that makes porridge (whatever porridge means to your country) – a basic so basic nobody ever needed it written down with specific measurements and cookbook writers' waffle.
All told this was perfectly reasonable, but on the slightly dry side where reading around the subject of food is concerned (not that I've done that much, at all). It does provide for a suitable monograph on something the regular reader would not have expected to see, let alone enjoy, a full volume on. But in looking at it in such academic terms – and that most successfully – it kind of missed the flippancy I might have sought from such a book. I always say that if you're going to measure something by the 'cup' you might as well start measuring books by the 'pocket', as even if it fits they're all going to be a different bleddy size. (Inconstancy in recipes is featured, to be fair.) This might not have fit perfectly with what I was expecting, whatever that was, but this was not a waste of time at all – three and a half stars. And at least it pulled back from discussing the author's gender issues and ultra-wokeishness, as all similar books in this frustrating series seem more concerned with than is good for them.
A chapter on comfort foods is next, and the author nearly starts to pick apart the food as opposed to the dish (that kind of thing is reserved for chocolate, later). But not for the first time there is mention of a post-recipe world, where everybody knows what things do, and so things are thrown together based on what's in the fridge still, and something new is made by us each time we cook. In sheer contrast to that is Thanksgiving, where we don't get a recipe for the food – we get a recipe for the entire day. And also in contrast to the post-recipe world is the pre-recipe idea that makes porridge (whatever porridge means to your country) – a basic so basic nobody ever needed it written down with specific measurements and cookbook writers' waffle.
All told this was perfectly reasonable, but on the slightly dry side where reading around the subject of food is concerned (not that I've done that much, at all). It does provide for a suitable monograph on something the regular reader would not have expected to see, let alone enjoy, a full volume on. But in looking at it in such academic terms – and that most successfully – it kind of missed the flippancy I might have sought from such a book. I always say that if you're going to measure something by the 'cup' you might as well start measuring books by the 'pocket', as even if it fits they're all going to be a different bleddy size. (Inconstancy in recipes is featured, to be fair.) This might not have fit perfectly with what I was expecting, whatever that was, but this was not a waste of time at all – three and a half stars. And at least it pulled back from discussing the author's gender issues and ultra-wokeishness, as all similar books in this frustrating series seem more concerned with than is good for them.
March 18, 2022
Originally posted on my blog: Nonstop Reader.
Recipe is a collection of short essays and reminiscences by Lynn Z. Bloom of recipes and how we interact with them. Due out 5th May 2022 from Bloomsbury Academic, it's 160 pages and will be available in paperback format.
This is one of a series of books on everyday items called "Object Lessons" which team writers' observations and experiences with material foci: recipes, stickers, bookshelves, bulletproof vests, traffic, TVs, and trees to give a few examples.
The author does a very good job of first objectifying and deconstructing the concept of a recipe - what it is, where we find them, how they function, and how we interact with them - and then providing insightful essays about how recipes impact us, shape us, inform, and feed us, and occasionally affect us politically and socioeconomically. As a bonus, the author graciously provides a recipe for blueberry pie full to bursting with fresh berries. I haven't yet made it, but I definitely intend to do so.
There's a solid bibliography included with resources for further reading as well as a cross referenced index.
I have enjoyed a number of the books in this series. This one is erudite and thought provoking. It's a worthwhile addition to the series as a whole.
Four stars.
Disclosure: I received an ARC at no cost from the author/publisher for review purposes.
Recipe is a collection of short essays and reminiscences by Lynn Z. Bloom of recipes and how we interact with them. Due out 5th May 2022 from Bloomsbury Academic, it's 160 pages and will be available in paperback format.
This is one of a series of books on everyday items called "Object Lessons" which team writers' observations and experiences with material foci: recipes, stickers, bookshelves, bulletproof vests, traffic, TVs, and trees to give a few examples.
The author does a very good job of first objectifying and deconstructing the concept of a recipe - what it is, where we find them, how they function, and how we interact with them - and then providing insightful essays about how recipes impact us, shape us, inform, and feed us, and occasionally affect us politically and socioeconomically. As a bonus, the author graciously provides a recipe for blueberry pie full to bursting with fresh berries. I haven't yet made it, but I definitely intend to do so.
There's a solid bibliography included with resources for further reading as well as a cross referenced index.
I have enjoyed a number of the books in this series. This one is erudite and thought provoking. It's a worthwhile addition to the series as a whole.
Four stars.
Disclosure: I received an ARC at no cost from the author/publisher for review purposes.
April 8, 2022
Recipe by Lynn Z Bloom is another excellent addition to the Object Lessons series. This volume does use recipes to talk about the many aspects of food preparation and consumption but, compared to many other books in the series, includes less memoir. That isn't to say this isn't a personal book with many such references, it just limits the personal to interactions with recipes.
Some, such as Theeimbecilic, don't care for the personal aspects of many of the volumes, mainly because those books are also interested in looking closely at how those objects work within culture and society, and critical analysis that doesn't support the status quo of the entitled brats makes them scream about "wokeishness." Oh well, little minds, little hands, etc., they need to compensate.
I fall into the readership that enjoys looking at how the objects we take for granted play a part in the larger aspects of life and society. I don't always agree wholeheartedly with each author but I still gain some new perspective (Theenarrowminded hates new perspectives). Bloom makes many points along the way about everything from colonialism and slavery to cultural appropriation and community, but does so in a far more subtle manner. Doing so allows her to more easily make distinctions, for instance between appreciating and appropriating cultures.
I would recommend this to anyone who likes to look below the surface of an "object," in this case recipes, and also think about them in a more holistic sense.
Reviewed from a copy made available by the publisher via NetGalley.
Some, such as Theeimbecilic, don't care for the personal aspects of many of the volumes, mainly because those books are also interested in looking closely at how those objects work within culture and society, and critical analysis that doesn't support the status quo of the entitled brats makes them scream about "wokeishness." Oh well, little minds, little hands, etc., they need to compensate.
I fall into the readership that enjoys looking at how the objects we take for granted play a part in the larger aspects of life and society. I don't always agree wholeheartedly with each author but I still gain some new perspective (Theenarrowminded hates new perspectives). Bloom makes many points along the way about everything from colonialism and slavery to cultural appropriation and community, but does so in a far more subtle manner. Doing so allows her to more easily make distinctions, for instance between appreciating and appropriating cultures.
I would recommend this to anyone who likes to look below the surface of an "object," in this case recipes, and also think about them in a more holistic sense.
Reviewed from a copy made available by the publisher via NetGalley.
April 19, 2022
I love this series. Each instalment is an "object lesson" in both the object, and the author themselves. In this case Lynn Bloom leaves off almost all personal perspective. The book itself focuses more on food than on recopies per se. For such a slim volume it covers a LOT of ground, include some heavy topics like food scarcity and child labour.
Interestingly (to me) there is no focus or discussion of gender, which could have been included.
My only criticism of this book is it is very Ameri-centric -of the 5 chapters one focuses on Thanksgiving menus. That's not surprising, given it is written by an American for an American publisher.
A strong instalment in an interesting series. I look forward to the next "object lesson".
Interestingly (to me) there is no focus or discussion of gender, which could have been included.
My only criticism of this book is it is very Ameri-centric -of the 5 chapters one focuses on Thanksgiving menus. That's not surprising, given it is written by an American for an American publisher.
A strong instalment in an interesting series. I look forward to the next "object lesson".
April 18, 2024
As other reviews have pointed out, this book focuses more on food generally than on recipes. In fact the author only really writes about the nature of recipes in the introduction. Object Lessons are always great reads and this was no exception but the chosen topic was too sprawling to be tackled in only 130 pages. I would have loved a comparison of written and oral recipes in various cultures and throughout history but it was quite focused on a US perspective. Still, a broad introduction to the topic that makes me want to read more.
May 13, 2022
I never stopped and reflected on what "recipe" mean. This book was a surprise but it also made me think and learn something new.
Highly recommended.
Many thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for this ARC, all opinions are mine
Highly recommended.
Many thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for this ARC, all opinions are mine
July 6, 2022
So neat! This book breaks down what a recipe really is. Point by point in a funny, interesting way. I enjoy this very much.
August 9, 2023
Another great entry in the Object Lessons series. While most books in this series have been interesting reads, this is the first one that, for me, literally nailed the brief of "showing the hidden side of ordinary things".
I don't enjoy cooking. Comfort baking and Procrastibaking are not tasks that bring me joy and if I could Marie Konde cooking out of my life without having to survive on high salt and sugary take- away, I would.
Quick easy meals, One-pot meals, tray bakes, cauldrons of vegetable soup that last 3 days, and cereal for dinner - these are all my go-tos. Even on the rare occasion when I need to make something slightly fancier than these staples, I rarely follow a recipe step-by-step. I tend to view recipes as "suggested guidelines" instead of "explicit instructions" and am very much a don't-have-that-ingredient-so-use-this-instead, that-tastes-about-right and I-think-its-been-in-there-long-enough slapdash kind of cook. Thinking about recipes is not something I dedicate brain power or energy to at all, so this book was a curiosity to me.
Instinctually we all probably know deep down in the lizard part of our brain there are very strong ties between food and cooking (and therefore recipes), and human sociability and community, taking this trip down memory lane was an eye-opening and fascinating read.
Bloom did a great job of spotlighting the food and humans orbit via her analysis of recipes as stories passed down through generations, food science, food bloggers, food security, as well as the darker side of food origins like chocolate. Plus, who could resist the temptation of a whole chapter dedicated to Mac-And-Cheese... hmmm... cheesy goodness. It was a great rainy day read and definitely one that will stir up memories of family and food, and give you warm fuzzy feelings. Or maybe that was just hunger pangs.
Thank you to Netgalley and Bloomsbury Academic for the reading copy.
I don't enjoy cooking. Comfort baking and Procrastibaking are not tasks that bring me joy and if I could Marie Konde cooking out of my life without having to survive on high salt and sugary take- away, I would.
Quick easy meals, One-pot meals, tray bakes, cauldrons of vegetable soup that last 3 days, and cereal for dinner - these are all my go-tos. Even on the rare occasion when I need to make something slightly fancier than these staples, I rarely follow a recipe step-by-step. I tend to view recipes as "suggested guidelines" instead of "explicit instructions" and am very much a don't-have-that-ingredient-so-use-this-instead, that-tastes-about-right and I-think-its-been-in-there-long-enough slapdash kind of cook. Thinking about recipes is not something I dedicate brain power or energy to at all, so this book was a curiosity to me.
Instinctually we all probably know deep down in the lizard part of our brain there are very strong ties between food and cooking (and therefore recipes), and human sociability and community, taking this trip down memory lane was an eye-opening and fascinating read.
Bloom did a great job of spotlighting the food and humans orbit via her analysis of recipes as stories passed down through generations, food science, food bloggers, food security, as well as the darker side of food origins like chocolate. Plus, who could resist the temptation of a whole chapter dedicated to Mac-And-Cheese... hmmm... cheesy goodness. It was a great rainy day read and definitely one that will stir up memories of family and food, and give you warm fuzzy feelings. Or maybe that was just hunger pangs.
Thank you to Netgalley and Bloomsbury Academic for the reading copy.
Displaying 1 - 13 of 13 reviews