How I Started Writing Cookbooks

Just underway with researching and writing my fifth and sixth cookbooks, I realize I've learned a lot about this process over the years. My favorite part is always, at least initially, the recipe testing and development. The entire time I'm doing that, I'm scripting the writing in my head. And though I have a lot of fun with the actual writing, I'll never love writing the actual recipes. It's difficult work because it is so detailed, and the author has to always keep the cooking skills and kitchens of her readers in mind. Consistency is a big part of it, and clarity, too. It's a real balancing act of offering just enough details and hand-holding, without overwhelming.

The first two cookbooks I ever owned were wedding gifts back in 1990, and they still remain near and dear to my heart—and my kitchen. These are The Way to Cook by Julia Child and The New Basics cooking by JuleeRusso and Sheila Lukins. Of the two, the former is by far my favorite and definitely the one I would take with me to a deserted island. My copy is tattered, torn, and full of notes, and I love the music of Julia's style, language, and knowledge ringing through every single page. A lot of Julia is in my most recent cookbook Tart Love: Sassy, Savory, Sweet, and Southern, as she is literally and figuratively the reason I went to Le Cordon Bleu. As a child, I was captivated by her television show and eventually met her at a food and wine festival in the late 1980s. I asked her the best way to get qualified for food writing.

Her response, in true, to-the-point-fashion, was: "Can you get to Le Cordon Bleu?"

Thanks to her, and a lot of other people, I did. There, I not only fell in love with cooking and France, I also developed a passion for baking tarts—particularly savory tarts—which were a relatively new concept to me at the time. Every day at Cordon Bleu was an  adventure, beginning with early morning walks to Rue Delhomme from my apartment, past tempting patisseries and lively corner brasseries. Originally, I had intended to go for just three months to get accredited in basic cuisine and pastry, but the grip took hold, and I ended up doing the complete Grande Diplome program over the course of nine months. Some of the most profound cooking lessons revolved around the importance of technique and how to use it to build flavors. The chefs, many of whom had been working in kitchens since the age of 12 or 14, seemed to have "magic" in their hands, creating the most beautiful and delicious food I had ever experienced in my life. For a while, food and Paris became my obsession, but less so than writing.

I worked in several kitchens in Paris and back home in the States before launching into writing, originally as a restaurant critic and then columnist, some years later. But, ultimately it was the love of the training, all the wonderful experiences, and the respect for the art form that I learned at Le Cordon Bleu and in Paris that continues to inspire my writing. I can understand why Julia recommended I go—it was an experience like no other. Incidentally, she asked me to keep her informed of my training and I wrote several times to let her know what I was learning and doing. Each time, she wrote back, with her signature enthusiasm, even though by then she had a very busy life and career. That kind of generosity and caring is peppered throughout her cookbooks and life's work, another constant source of inspiration for me when I am testing recipes and writing cookbooks. 

Happy cooking, friends!

{Modified with author's permission from its original posting as an author profile on www.eatyourbooks.com, August 31, 2012 .}