For the great English food writer Elizabeth David, summer fare means neither tepid nor timid. Her stress is always on fresh, seasonal food-- recipes that can be quickly prepared and slowly savored, from Gnocchi alla Genovese ("simply an excuse for eating pesto ") to La Poule au Pot to Gooseberry Fool. Divided into such sections as Soup, Poultry and Game, Vegetables, and Dessert, her 1955 classic includes an overview of herbs as well as chapters on impromptu cooking for holidays and picnics. Chockablock with both invaluable instructions and tart rejoinders to the pallid and the overblown, Summer Cooking is a witty, precise companion for feasting in the warmer months.
Born Elizabeth Gwynne, she was of mixed English and Irish ancestry, and came from a rather grand background, growing up in the 17th-century Sussex manor house, Wootton Manor. Her parents were Rupert Gwynne, Conservative MP for Eastbourne, and the Hon. Stella Ridley, who came from a distinguished Northumberland family. They had three other daughters.
She studied Literature and History at the Sorbonne, living with a French family for two years, which led to her love of France and of food. At the age of 19, she was given her first cookery book, The Gentle Art of Cookery by Hilda Leyel, who wrote of her love with the food of the East. "If I had been given a standard Mrs Beeton instead of Mrs Leyel's wonderful recipes," she said, "I would probably never have learned to cook."
Gwynne had an adventurous early life, leaving home to become an actress. She left England in 1939, when she was twenty-five, and bought a boat with her married lover Charles Gibson-Cowan intending to travel around the Mediterranean. The onset of World War II interrupted this plan, and they had to flee the German occupation of France. They left Antibes for Corsica and then on to Italy where the boat was impounded; they arrived on the day Italy declared war on Britain. Eventually deported to Greece, living on the Greek island of Syros for a period, Gwynne learnt about Greek food and spent time with high bohemians such as the writer Lawrence Durrell. When the Germans invaded Greece they fled to Crete where they were rescued by the British and evacuated to Egypt, where she lived firstly in Alexandria and later in Cairo. There Gwynne started work for the Ministry of Information, split from Gibson-Cowan, and eventually took on a marriage of convenience, more or less as her aunt, Violet Gordon-Woodhouse, had done. This gave her a measure of respectability but Lieutenant-Colonel Tony David was a man whom she did not ultimately respect, and their relationship ended soon after an eight month posting in India. She had many lovers in ensuing years.
On her return to London in 1946, David began to write articles on cooking, and in 1949 the publisher John Lehmann offered her a £100 advance for Book of Mediterranean Food, the start of a dazzling writing career. David spent eight months researching Italian food in Venice, Tuscany and Capri. This resulted in Italian Food in 1954, with illustrations by Renato Guttuso, which was famously described by Evelyn Waugh in The Sunday Times as one of the two books which had given him the most pleasure that year.
Many of the ingredients were unknown in England when the books were first published, as shortages and rationing continued for many years after the end of the war, and David had to suggest looking for olive oil in pharmacies where it was sold for treating earache. Within a decade, ingredients such as aubergines, saffron and pasta began to appear in shops, thanks in no small part to David's books. David gained fame, respect and high status and advised many chefs and companies. In November 1965, she opened her own shop devoted to cookery in Pimlico, London. She wrote articles for Vogue magazine, one of the first in the genre of food-travel.
In 1963, when she was 49, she suffered a cerebral hemorrhage, possibly related to her heavy drinking. Although she recovered, it affected her sense of taste and her libido.
Think the obsession with fresh, local ingredients is recent phenomenon? Elizabeth David was urging a populace obsessed with newly-improved freezing techniques to return to simple, seasonal foods. Some sections of the book, such as her explanations of the uses of now-common herbs, are quite dated; others, such as her instruction that salads should be made from fresh greens, washed and dried, and lightly dressed, seem obvious at first -- but then I think of how many limp leaves soaked in dressing I've been served.
Unfortunately the text here was reduced to a size that was not very pleasurable to read, but most of the recipes themselves were not to my taste, anyway.
My first of the legendary David’s books on food and cooking. She has strong opinions on how food should be prepared-on setting up a buffet “ The most elementary hor d’ouvre such as a plate of red radishes with a few of their green leaves, a dish of green and black olives and another of halved hard-boiled eggs (not overcooked), with butter and bread on the table, is ten times more tempting than the same ingredients got up in a pattern all on one dish and garnished with strips of this and dabs of that. You are, after all, preparing a meal, not decorating the village hall”. A joy to read, not just for the witty comments, but for her love of the subject. Recipes included.
Enjoyed this. Written in 1955, really interesting to see what was available then. The chapter on herbs, for instance, is very good as a summary of what goes with what, but I don't think much of this had become common practice in Britain at the time. She is very generous with ingredients such as olive oil, cream and butter in a way I don't remember most cooking being for quite a long time after the 1950s, and I'm sure many things which she could get in Soho just weren't to be had elsewhere. There are a few recipes I might try here, but I shall avoid the complicated and dated ones - inevitably there is equipment which is no longer in common use, for instance, and I am a bit squeamish when it comes to the head and feet of various animals, also shellfish and veal which seem to be favourites of hers. (There is, surprisingly to me, quite a bit of calves' foot jelly lurking in some of these recipes). She is quite scornful about some contemporary habits and yet once you look at her recipes she goes in for the same things, such as dousing everything in brandy and setting fire to it. It is a very readable book even if you don't have plans to use it in the kitchen.
Reading this in winter brings in hope for the summer. I love her style of writing, as sublime as the food she writes about. Light reading with substance. I can keep this on my bookshelf for a while to simply dip into to fill my quest for nourishing inspiration.
Summer Cooking, like A Book of Mediterranean food, will be enjoyed by foodies of all stripes. The book is sprinkled with anecdotal gustatory adventures, either hers or others, and Ms. David has a wonderfully broad range of knowledge of all categories of food.
As a recipe book, it is hilariously maddening, for exactitude is eschewed throughout.
The average recipe begins with three ingredients. Ambiguous amounts are assigned to each one. You are often advised to cook the food "in the usual way" (direct quote). Five additional ingredients are casually mentioned in the middle of the recipe. and at the end, she offhandedly tells you to add a wholly separate dish, from homemade fried bread to bechamel sauce.
Now THIS is what a cookbook should be. Nothing precise, no quarter-teaspoon of anything, just a bit of butter or a sprinkle of oregano. A cookbook for the confident, a lovely excursion for those unwilling to dive in. David had as sure a hand with prose as she did with food. My copy came from Laurie and has been languishing in the TBR pile for far too long.
Maybe it's because I'm no longer very into cookbooks, but I remember enjoying her others much more than I did this book, which I so looked forward to since the edition is from NYRB.
It was fascinating to read a cookbook intended for English audiences some sixty to seventy years ago. The quantity of cream and butter called for in most of the dishes was impressive.