In recipes and reminiscences equally delicious, Edna Lewis celebrates the uniquely American country cooking she grew up with some fifty years ago in a small Virginia Piedmont farming community that had been settled by freed slaves. With menus for the four seasons, she shares the ways her family prepared and enjoyed food, savoring the delights of each special time of year:
• The fresh taste of spring—the first shad, wild mushrooms, garden strawberries, field greens and salads . . . honey from woodland bees . . . a ring mold of chicken with wild mushroom sauce . . . the treat of braised mutton after sheepshearing.
• The feasts of summer—garden-ripe vegetables and fruits relished at the peak of flavor . . . pan-fried chicken, sage-flavored pork tenderloin, spicy baked tomatoes, corn pudding, fresh blackberry cobbler, and more, for hungry neighbors on Wheat-Threshing Day . . . Sunday Revival, the event of the year, when Edna’s mother would pack up as many as fifteen dishes (what with her pickles and breads and pies) to be spread out on linen-covered picnic tables under the church’s shady oaks . . . hot afternoons cooled with a bowl of crushed peaches or hand-cranked custard ice cream.
• The harvest of fall—a fine dinner of baked country ham, roasted newly dug sweet potatoes, and warm apple pie after a day of corn-shucking . . . the hunting season, with the deliciously “different” taste of game fattened on hickory nuts and persimmons . . . hog-butchering time and the making of sausages and liver pudding . . . and Emancipation Day with its rich and generous thanksgiving dinner.
• The hearty fare of winter—holiday time, the sideboard laden with all the special foods of Christmas for company dropping by . . . the cold months warmed by stews, soups, and baked beans cooked in a hearth oven to be eaten with hot crusty bread before the fire.
The scores of recipes for these marvelous dishes are set down in loving detail. We come to understand the values that formed the remarkable woman—her love of nature, the pleasure of living with the seasons, the sense of community, the satisfactory feeling that hard work was always rewarded by her mother’s good food. Having made us yearn for all the good meals she describes in her memories of a lost time in America, Edna Lewis shows us precisely how to recover, in our own country or city or suburban kitchens, the taste of the fresh, good, natural country cooking that was so happy a part of her girlhood in Freetown, Virginia.
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这本书的封面设计得非常朴实,带着一种温暖的、仿佛能闻到烟火气的吸引力。我是在一个偶然的机会下,被它的装帧吸引的。初翻开时,我就被那些充满生活气息的文字所打动。它不像某些烹饪书那样,充斥着高深的术语和复杂的技巧,而是像一位和蔼的长辈,坐在你身边,娓娓道来那些关于食物、关于家庭、关于土地的故事。文字的描绘力极强,每读到一处,我几乎都能清晰地想象出食材在手中被处理的样子,以及最终菜肴散发出的诱人香气。作者似乎深谙如何将平凡的食材,通过简单却充满智慧的处理,变成餐桌上的奇迹。这本书给我的感觉,与其说是一本食谱,不如说是一部关于“如何去生活”的温馨指南。它让我重新审视了厨房在我们日常中的地位,明白食物不仅仅是为了果腹,更是情感连接和文化传承的载体。阅读它,就像进行了一次心灵的SPA,充满了对质朴生活的美好向往和对传统烹饪方式的尊重。
评分我必须称赞作者在语言运用上的细腻和幽默感。她的文字不是那种教科书式的、冷冰冰的指令,而是充满了活泼的生命力和真挚的情感。在讲解一个相对复杂的步骤时,她总能穿插一些家庭轶事或者童年的回忆,瞬间将读者带入一个温馨的场景中。这种叙事手法极大地降低了阅读门槛,即使是对烹饪一窍不通的人,也会被故事吸引着读下去。我甚至觉得,即使不进厨房,仅仅将这本书当作一本散文来读,也是一种享受。书中对不同季节、不同节庆的饮食习惯描摹得入木三分,让我仿佛能感受到空气中弥漫的季节更迭的气息。她对细节的关注令人称奇,比如如何挑选一个成熟的番茄,如何判断肉类的新鲜度,这些看似细枝末节的地方,恰恰体现了经验的宝贵和作者的真诚。
评分这本书给我带来的最大启发在于“自信心”的重建。在面对琳琅满目的现代食谱时,我常常因为追求完美而畏首畏尾,生怕做不出照片上那种光鲜亮丽的效果。然而,这本书却传递出一种强烈的信号:烹饪的乐趣在于过程和心意,而非结果的绝对完美。它教会我拥抱不完美,接受食物本来的面貌。书中展示的许多菜肴,外表朴素,甚至有些“粗犷”,但味道却直抵人心。这种返璞归真的态度,极大地解放了我的烹饪压力。我开始敢于根据自己的现有食材和心情来调整比例,不再被严格的条条框框所束缚。这不仅仅是一本关于如何做饭的书,更是一本关于如何与自然、与自己和解的书。它让我明白,真正的“乡村风味”,源于内心的平静和对土地的敬畏,而非昂贵的工具或稀有的食材。
评分这本书的叙事节奏掌握得极其到位,它不是那种让你心急火燎地想在十分钟内学会一道菜的功利性读物。相反,它鼓励慢下来,去体会每一个步骤背后的意义。我特别喜欢作者在描述食材来源时的那种深情,无论是自家后院采摘的香草,还是从集市上精心挑选的当季蔬菜,每一个元素的介绍都充满了敬畏感。这种对原材料的尊重,直接影响了烹饪哲学的形成。我尝试了书里提到的一种腌制小菜的方法,那种繁琐的、需要耐心的过程,在现代快节奏的生活中几乎是绝迹的。但当我最终品尝到那酸甜适口、回味无穷的滋味时,所有的付出都变得值得。这让我意识到,有些美好的事物,是无法用时间效率来衡量的,它需要时间和心意去浇灌。这本书的价值,在于它提醒了我们,真正的“好味道”,往往藏在那些被我们遗忘的,需要时间沉淀的传统做法里。
评分从结构上来看,这本书的设计非常巧妙地平衡了实用性和文学性。它没有采用传统食谱那种严格的、编号化的排版,而是将食谱自然地融入到生活场景的描述之中。阅读过程中,我不断地在“学习新技能”和“沉浸于美好生活想象”之间切换。我尤其欣赏那些关于“食物与记忆”的章节,它们探讨了食物如何成为维系家庭纽带的无形力量。这些文字触动了我内心深处对家的渴望和对传统团聚的珍视。每一次阅读,都像是一次对过去美好时光的重温。它不是简单地告诉你“放两勺盐”,而是告诉你“在那个傍晚,奶奶总是会用这个分量的盐,因为那时候的阳光正好……”这种融入了情感的指引,使得每道菜肴都带上了一层特殊的、无法复制的意义。
评分the darkest corner of my mind has been wrangling over a recent trade where a seemingly tiny omission of data had practically forced me out of my January position for the absence of self-pity and honest acceptance of my mistake, I read to have a respite; not looking for recipes; some fun and frolic from the author's Virginia memory are good enough
评分the darkest corner of my mind has been wrangling over a recent trade where a seemingly tiny omission of data had practically forced me out of my January position for the absence of self-pity and honest acceptance of my mistake, I read to have a respite; not looking for recipes; some fun and frolic from the author's Virginia memory are good enough
评分the darkest corner of my mind has been wrangling over a recent trade where a seemingly tiny omission of data had practically forced me out of my January position for the absence of self-pity and honest acceptance of my mistake, I read to have a respite; not looking for recipes; some fun and frolic from the author's Virginia memory are good enough
评分the darkest corner of my mind has been wrangling over a recent trade where a seemingly tiny omission of data had practically forced me out of my January position for the absence of self-pity and honest acceptance of my mistake, I read to have a respite; not looking for recipes; some fun and frolic from the author's Virginia memory are good enough
评分the darkest corner of my mind has been wrangling over a recent trade where a seemingly tiny omission of data had practically forced me out of my January position for the absence of self-pity and honest acceptance of my mistake, I read to have a respite; not looking for recipes; some fun and frolic from the author's Virginia memory are good enough
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