Thomas Keller’s Under Pressure: Cooking Sous Vide
is an odd sort of book, to say the least. From the look of it, it is yet another coffee table foodie book, and that’s certainly the knock on it. But then, it is also a technical cookbook written by chefs for chefs. As the first book, it’s aimed at me with more money but with more money, but that’s not really relevant to this review. Jeffrey Steingarten covers that. Instead, I’m interested in how well the book explains how to cook sous vide.
Here, it’s a mixed bag. There is a rather longish introductory section that explains how The French Laundry came to start cooking sous-vide, and what sous-vide is good for (not everything, obviously), and where it fits in the cook’s repertoire (alongside sauteeing and big pot blanching, sometimes replacing braising). However, unlike Alinea, and very much like The French Laundry Cookbook, it explains along the way. Why this technique for this sort of food, what doing this to that accomplishes, what results to expect, and so on and so forth. Alinea‘s recipes are rote, while these recipes are recitations. It is, perhaps more helpful to think of Alinea as a catalogue raisonée, with a hypothetical year of Tour menus. It certainly isn’t a cookbook, in the sense of a collection of recipes one is meant to follow (and since it isn’t, a lot of the press surrounding it simply misses the point).
Explanation is where Thomas Keller/Michael Ruhlman cookbooks always shine. While the recipes don’t include step by step line-drawings like Cooks Illustrated recipes, they’re include an immense amount of detail about the ingredients and how to handle them. Alinea simply asks you to fillet and remove the loin from the Turbot, while Under Pressure tells you that artichokes should be cooked sous-vide because artichokes are susceptible to oxidation, and a certain temperature guarantees the perfect texture. The explanations of ingredients, and how they ought to be treated, as well as the though process of how that particular dish came about is presented in italics. Even if you never intend to buy a vacuum packer, you will grow as a cook reading everything in italics in the book.
Whether the recipes (at least the sous-vide portions) work in the home kitchen (granted, I have a rather strange kind of home kitchen), is something that I want to look at in this blog. This is partly why I find the one-off attempts to cook Alinea at home from every publication that has content about food in Chicago kind of disingenuous, but not Carol’s new Alinea blog. This is the sort of cookbook you have to live with for a long time to appreciate. I’m going to do my damnedest.
One thing that strikes me about how this book differs from The French Laundry Cookbook is how much more the food looks like it comes from Alinea rather than French Laundry. Once, after Grant had come back from eating at El Bulli, Thomas Keller dressed a young Grant Achatz down by telling him that the modernist food he was bringing to French Laundry wasn’t, well, French Laundry. This set up the chain of events that led Grant to Trio and eventually to 1723 N. Halsted. I mean, some of the plating still looks like it comes out of a Nouvelle Cuisine coffee table book (not that I know of any) but others look like tamer versions of “Tomato” (which graces the back cover of The Alinea Cookook) for example.