We all have our little obsessions, and for a while, mine was The Fireside Cook Book by James A. Beard. During that while, I managed to grab nine different copies of it.
No one in her right mind needs nine copies of the same book. What brain bug made me amass that many? Raving greed? It wasn’t as if any one of the books was better than the other. First published by Simon and Schuster in 1949, all of my copies have fifty-plus years worth of well-used flaws: fraying spines, cracked (if any) dust jackets, dog-eared edges, gravy-stained pages, annotated recipes. Not a single mint edition!
Collecting crazes can begin in an instant. Mine started the first time I opened a copy of 
this volume in a Denver used book emporium. The illustrations by Alice and Martin Provensen are just so colorful and happy, and Beard has such a benignly dictatorial way of writing. He always assumes that his audience loves the cornucopia of American food and drink as passionately as he does, and therefore insists that his readers put their very best efforts and ingredients into whatever recipe they decide to tackle.
The recipes I’ve made in the book have all turned out superbly.
I especially love the menu suggestions in the back, and the author’s lavish hand with ingredients. He uses 2, not 1.5, ounces of booze in most of his cocktail mixes, for instance. Nice whole numbers, rounded up.
Here’s a sample “cold weather” menu which I followed once: it was great!
Mushrooms à la Greque
Lentil Casserole
Green Salad with Cheese
Baked Pears
Coffee
James A. Beard was tall and looked liked he ate a lot of his own work. Although he loves vegetables and treats them with the lightly-cooked respect they deserve, his books are no health food primers. He uses lots of butter and salt, and has this to say about trotters: “No other pork seems to me so delicious as pig’s feet and hocks. But never serve them to guests who have inhibitions about using their fingers as implements!”
The Fireside Cook Book could make a party out of a Monday night meatloaf supper for a single tired commuter. It’s a paean to simple good living. I’ll never get rid of any of my nine copies!
The Fireside Cook Book is full of good stuff.
Page Two, Issue Three
The Fireside Cook Book
