Recipe books teach us nothing about how to cook. Foodie books break down what makes dishes work but sometimes lack a soul, or perspective on what is practical and available to the average person. This book teaches how to cook in a way that honors the actual shape of life. You may know all about salt, fat, acid, and heat already. But this book turns the basics into poetry that motivates happiness in the kitchen, and gives practical advice (and yes, a few recipes) on how to actually build skill practically, as well as build intuition that turns staples into magic. Importantly, as serious as the book takes food and cooking, the book is centered around humble ingredients first. Greens, generically, rather than an insistence you need to procure a certain kind of chard. Eggs. Rice. Beans. Basic meats anyone can buy. There is emphasis on quality, true. But this is freedom, for me. It's fine to serve a simple poached egg on toast because I have used good parmesan, and so on. The prose might seem pretentious, but the dishes are not. I love that.

Personally, at risk of sounding like a recipe blog, this was transformative. My mother cooked plenty of food I loved. But she is risk-adverse. A cookbook gal. I imagine she might struggle a bit if handed a small pantry of drab basics and no guidelines. This book has practical instruction on what to do with the basics, sure. But it also made me feel very good about carrying those basics confidently forward. If you are used to foodie umami bombs or urbane chicken nuggets, you might not think her suggestion to boil whatever vegetable "until delicious" is appealing, but please. Just try.