I bought this after reading the NYT book reviewer's
praise for it, and I've made several of the recipes.
The hands down winner is the Wild Mushroom Fricassee,
which is that rare combo, exotic seeming but easy
to make.

My only criticism so far would be the production
values -- it's not a visually appealing book.
Otherwise, go for it.

2002 12 31 Update: this continues to be a high favorite among my cook books. After dining at Rialto, my opinion of Adams has only risen. Really, buy it.

This beautifully illustrated and well-written new cookbook is a great antidote to the usual fare. Many cookbooks are either 'do-it-quick' manuals or make you feel inadequate with impossibly complex restaurant presentations. This book takes a third approach, which the authors call artisanal home cooking, but I call 'take the time to really cook things worth eating and worth cooking.'
Jody Adams is the chef at Rialto, a magnificent restaurant in Cambridge, MA, which is the place my wife and I always go for special occassions. The cookbook includes some of their best signature dishes, like soupe de poisson, but mostly it is a guide to Jody's philosophy of home cooking. She takes the reader on a tour of what she calls 'the kitchen in her head,' so that other people can see what it means to cook (and shop and plan menus and entertain) like a chef.
Ken Rivard, the co-author of this book, is a writer and a home cook, and the crisp and lively writing is what really makes this book stand out from the crowd. Many cookbooks have great recipes but are duds to read--this one is informative and entertaining, and strikes just the right balance of explaining techniques without insulting the intelligence of the reader.
I plan to 'cook my way' through this book, something I have never had the desire to do with a cookbook before. I started last night with Oliver's Chicken Stew, which was delicious. The book is designed to provide outstanding recipes, but also to teach a whole new approach to cooking, one that is intended to help people want to spend more time in the kitchen. I am usually intimidated by complex recipes and gorgeous cookbook photos--I know that mine will never look like that--but In the Hands of a Chef inspires confidence that a home cook can move from ordinary to out of the ordinary.

There are some real gems in this colleciton of recipes. They are unique, not that hard to duplicate and are outstanding.

So far, one is truly a standout in my collection: Fresh Tomato Soup with Seared Eggplant Sandwiches. Other recipes that have caught my attention and palate are: Fingerling Potato, Fig and Tarragon Salad, Winter Vegetable Gratin wiht Cranberries and Chestnuts, Fazzoletti with Lemon Cream, Pistachios, Spinach, and Slow-Roasted Tomatoes, Seared Quail Stuffed with Mascarpone and Green Peppercorns, and Sweet and Sour Braised Rabbit with Chocolate.

The instructions are thorough and easy to follow. As well, helpful sidebar discussions are provided on certain ingredients and preparation techniques.

All in all, a unique, classy, flavorful cookbook to use and enjoy.

This book carries the warmth you would share as you sit in the evening by the fire listening to an old friend tell you personal stories of their life. Some of the chapters, such as 'My Father's Violin' stand on their own as beautiful essays. I read and re-read that chapter several times as Eliza talked about memories of her father and the few shared times that they had together. The entire book is a reminder of what is important in life and how we all search for our own home.

From all the books I checked out at the library, this is the first that I had to own. This book is so New England you can't help but laugh out loud. She has guts AND the ability to laugh at her own stupidness. Any one who does not get a chuckle out of this book needs to loosen up in life and stop and smell the roses. I wish I had half the gall that she has to make life the way she has, and I wish I knew her.

This is such a lovely, small treasure. Like reading the diary of a wonderful friend, off on the adventure of her life, taking chances, getting scared, terrified, stuck, lonely, but trying again each time, full of life, hopeful--a lot like a lot of our lives. I think that's why I liked it so much. It was so real. It made me feel that there are others out there who are scared, vacillate, worry, yet continue on. I loved this book.

I grew up in New York City, but have lived for the past 10 years on seven acres in a semi-rural part of New Hampshire. I am also in the process of building a barn (next to the house the we actually live in). So when I saw this book, I had to buy it.

However, within a few chapters I was starting to have some concerns that Monninger was missing the point, and the more I read the more it was confirmed. What he has written is a New Yorker's view of life in New Hampshire. When I got to the point in the book where he describes how he used to live on Central Park West, I understood my concerns, but also really lost touch with the book.

He describes expansive fields with levels of gardens and myriad flora and fauna. In my mind's eye I was picturing a real expansive New Hampshire farm, but then I was drawn back to the fact that he is talking about three acres, abutting on the town school. Three acres is a lot of land in Manhattan, but if you live in New England for a while you will understand that it is just a back yard. Monninger catalogs every plant and every bird he finds, with the child-like glee of someone who has never seen nature before, but he is so lost in the details that he can't get beyond that fact that he is writing a New Yorker's view of New Hampshire for other New Yorkers.

I also found it annoying that he does not describe the impact of having on job on his ambitious renovation project. It would be great if I could have the amount of free time that he seems to have, both to spend with family and work around the house. It comes off as an idealized view of life, and does not describe the realities of what he has undertaken. He also makes a few attempts to add local color and local history, and I feel the book would have been better if he had had more of that.

From a literary standpoint, he really does overdo the metaphors and descriptions, but I can imagine how difficult it must be to accurately convey the feeling of spring in New England, or the size of a large structure. He would do better though with more description and less attempted poetry.

I can see how this book might be an interesting read for someone in a large city imagining life in the country, but it is not really an accurate or well written portrayal, and it left me, now a committed New Hampshirite, frustrated.

I just completed the relishing of Joseph Moninger's , A Barn. Agreeing with anothers veiwpoint of too much flowering descriptions I ignored a few choice lines and skipped to new paragraphs; yet with respect I know I would never have enjoyed the parts I did read if they had not been described with such love and experience. I am one of those "wanna be barn owners"; ever since I was eight years old and watched the people two streets over gut, renew and live in this massive building with huge windows and sturdy walls. I fell in love. Amongst all the eloquence this book offers; it is the underlying theme; the reason I did not read it, that leaves me speechless and in awe. It is in the storyline that Monninger weaves the secondary and yet primal thread of family and the fact, as he states, that he realized that he and Wendy were creating thier son's past. What a beautiful, thought provoking, loving and spiritually filled knowing. As they were focused on integrity during the ever present process of renewing this structure; they also were creating sustanance, substance and stablitiy for Pie. My son is twenty-three and if I ever get another opportunity to go around with him again; I pray that I rememeber that once we become parents; however that is gifted to us; that in our present we are creating our childs past.

If you read this, Joseph Monninger, Wendy and Pie; thank you.

This is a great book that offers to show us a different way of life than most of us live. Having grown up in the suburbs of California, the oldest house I lived in was 30 years old. I never had to worry about heating, or beams falling apart things that are very real concers to Joe and his family.
In addition to the general information about "barn" living, we see what it is like to integrate three lives into one new one. The stories of the deepening relationship between Joe and Pie are heartwarming and touching, as are the moments of closeness between Joe and Wendy.
Mr. Monninger gives us a wonderful insight to barns, New England, and creating a new life with people that you love.

John Mitchell can't quite decide if 4 Go Mad in Massachusetts is a travelogue or a travel book, but therein lies its perfection.

A series of short stories about his family's travels all over the state make more fun reading than a bland travel book, while imparting the kind of hidden information about attractions both offbeat and obvious that often goes unsaid (like that when visiting 'The Butterfly Place' his twin boys get more excited about an infestation of mealy bugs they find, or how the boys' 'Uncle Biz' accompanies them to a historic site and meets a man in period costume portraying his Mayflower riding ancestor but all he can think to ask him is "Where is the bathroom?"). From the Thermometer Museum to an Anatomical Museum, to the Freedom Trail and Edaville Railroad, Mitchell paints a portrait of the state with equal parts sarcasm, wit, and wonderment that goes far outside the lines yet entices the reader to delve deeper into finding the Massachusetts that lies just outside the box.

Throughout the nearly 200 pages of this book, John Mitchell finds himself facing an age-old dilemma: can a family find places to visit that won't leave at least one side of the parent-child team screaming for mercy? How do two young hipsters entertain their kids without hooking them up to the corporate theme park teat?

It's a tribute to the Mitchells' parenting skills that they and their children derive as much fascination and enjoyment from talking to hens at the zoo as they do from wandering through a World War II-era submarine (although the boys get as much pleasure from crawling across the lined-up bunks and pretending to be moles). Between John's smart, clever prose and Jana's gorgeous, fluid illustrations, 4 Go Mad will make you want to visit more places and spend time examining their beauty, their pathos, and how different age groups derive different meanings from them. A smart, fun read.

From the moment I picked up this book, I was hooked - and I don't even live in Massachusetts! The adventures of the Mitchell family not only entertained me - they opened my eyes to a small part of the vast array of hidden oddities out there in the world just waiting to be discovered and explored!

And what explorations they have! Every chapter uncovers yet another amazing locale - each more fascinating then the last.

Harry and Hugo sound like wonderful children with vast creativity and an immense amount to offer - who wouldn't be with parents like these?

Love it! Love it! LOVE IT - keep up the good work!

The only thing that prevented me from giving this book 1star was that there were some good observsations - otherwise the characters are annoying, the writing is pretentious and the general effect is both creepy and pathetic.

Passive/aggressive dilettante (He) meets manipulative head case (She). Were they made for each other, or are they fated to crash and burn? And, what happens to those unfortunate few who happen to cross their paths during this obsessive liaison?

Even Mister Rogers would have problems warming to these two.

A. Theroux's work starts slow, but develops into a very interesting case study with a twist ending. For full effect, read only on dank, overcast days.

A wonderfully excoriating novel from one of America's greatest authors. Ever. Though not as rich and encyclopedic as the better and better known Darconville's Cat, it is honed and tightly written, and at home among the several great American novels written in the last 30 years. Written in three parts, Adultery is constructed like a logical syllogism. This is the framework of its humor: the attempt of an overly intellectual and emotionally hermetic character to work out of the randomness of passion and persona an ornately mad logic. When he is happy (alone), he can paint (how he tells us so!) and he can deride (particularly when his talents are affronted with indifference). But what he cannot do is function in a properly human manner.

As to be expected, the quality of the language and the vituperation in which it is often adorned is for its own sake worth the effort (and yes, effort is required) and worthy of the cited Frederick Rolfe.

Who? "Do you read?"

McPhee's book can be read on several levels, but I prefer to think of it as an example of the triumph of nature over rational planning, or perhaps the triumph of nature over our ideas about nature.

It is the story of a young man's obsession with the old ways of constructing a birch bark canoe. In the first half of the book, McPhee describes in great detail Henri Vaillancourt's dedication to the ethic of craftsmanship. His knowledge comes largely from the books and sketches of Edwin Adney, from visiting other canoe-makers, and from trial and error. He confesses his desire to build the perfect canoe. He uses no nails or screws; even his tools are homemade and archaic. Little else holds his attention.

The second half of the book chronicles McPhee's trip with Henri and a few friends, paddling in Henri's canoes through the lakes and streams of the Maine woods. Interestingly, Henri had made only a handful of canoe trips before, and this would be his first portage and his first trip in rapids.

The book's humor comes from the tension between what the travelers consider natural (good) and what they consider unnatural (bad). Among them there is a partially self-conscious competition to see who can be more "authentic."

For example, Henri tells his friends, before the trip, that the idea is to travel light, "like the Indians," and therefore dissuades them from bringing their larger, more durable tent. When a rainstorm wrecks his friends' lighter tent, and he is forced to share his tent with them, he scorns them for not bringing the bigger tent. Eventually he forsakes his homemade jerky for clams baked on a very modern portable stove. Nothing like an empty stomach to challenge a man's ideals. There are also many discussions about Henry David Thoreau, the original New England nature boy who accidentally started two forest fires.

I don't see these subtle revelations as a criticism of Henri. His canoes may survive the trip, but whether they will survive the modern world, with its inauthentic, aluminum canoes and its Mountain House Freeze-Dried Beef Stroganoff, is another question. The story here seems to be that Henri's efforts, however fine, will remain impure and imperfect because he is human, and that a return to a more "natural," Indian way of life is neither possible nor preferable. In part this is because that life has never existed. It has been imagined and idealized by people like Henry Thoreau. But then Henri Vaillancourt is a craftsman, not a nature boy.

To my mind, McPhee's book raises some interesting questions about what ought to be preserved and what ought to be left behind.

As a canoeist, handyman, and McPhee fan, I enjoyed this little book very much. Like the 5-11-2000 reviewer, I found it to come in two parts. The first part details technical details about birch-bark canoes and how Vaillancourt became a self-taught master of their construction. The second part describes a canoe trip with Vaillancourt and others.

That other reviewer found the second half to be parody of Vaillancourt, but I disagree. As in The Deltoid Pumpkin Seed, real life sometimes takes a turn that a dreamer would not expect. Like his other non-fiction, I felt that McPhee offered real insights to the peoples' character and doesn't hesitate to sing their praises nor describe their shortcomings.

I enjoy the copious background information that McPhee includes in all of his books. Even more than a Tracy Kidder book, you come away feeling like you have some in-depth understanding of the subject.

This is a well-written, informative, and also very strange book. McPhee opens the book in an earnest, almost didactic fashion, and you get the idea that this book is going to be one of those staid affairs in which the subject of the book, in this case, a canoe maker named Henri Vaillancourt, is going to be portrayed as some kind of environmental saint and a keeper of Native American tradition. What you get instead though, is almost a parody, with some wickedly wry observations on Vaillancourt's character. You'll either see this book as a mean-spirited vehicle for the author to make fun of Vaillancourt, or you'll giggle all the way through. The Time magazine blurb from the editorial section was obviously written by someone who hadn't read the entire book. This book was written with a wicked grin on the author's face and a little bit of poison in the ink. The only complain I have is that McPhee often plunges into rather overly-technical writing about canoe building, but this occurs less and less often as the book nears its conclusion.

No, I haven't read the book. I saw the play put on by The Shakespeare Theater in Washington. Tessa Auberjonois was an absolute darling in the title role; you couldn't help but feel glad for Margery's odd-but-happy ending.

If Wycherley was no Shakespeare, he did this sort of play better than the Bard. Nothing is quotable, the characters are one dimensional and only the "China" scene got real laughs. But Wycherley did a neat and nasty take on Restoration mores and made it enjoyable, too.

Far from being a silly comedy, The Country Wife is a work aimed at lashing Seventeenth Century loose morals. We laugh, of course, but through the alluring yet disturbing character of Horner, we perceive that something must be done if Restoration society wants to survive.

Wicherley presents us with unhappy wives and brutal or indifferent husbands who are utlimately fooled by Horner, the man who knows how to exploit the misery produced by mercenary unions. Poor Margery Pinchwife, the heroine of the piece, eventually brings tears in our eyes when we realize that she shall never be free from a violent man that considers marriage a cheaper substitute for keeping a mistress. Margery is the victim of both her husband and her careless lover. She is looking for love, but she keeps on coming across men who are interested in sex only. They can see her body; they can't see her delicate, naif soul.

However, Whycherley (who, we must remember, was the spiritual son of the great moralists Graciàn, Larochefoucault and so on, whose maxims are easily detected in the whole bulk of Wycherley's works) is able to see a way out in the honest, disintrested love between Alithea, Margery's brilliant sister-in-law, and Harcourt, Horner's dashing best friend. (these characters' names symbolize the perfection of their union: her name means "truth", while his name is significantly "Frank".)

This comedy is at its best when performed; however, it is well worth reading, especially if you have a lively imagination. don't miss the notorious "china scene": fifteen minutes of laughter that will make your sides ache.

Be careful: The Country Wife merely "looks" like a stupid, shallow comedy, but it is in fact a deep reflection on society, marriage and, why not?, even the situation of Seventeenth-Century English women.

I recently reread this play for the third time and taught it in a British Literature survey at the University of Texas. Not only do I find it more entertaining and more brilliant with every reading, but I was shocked to find that the vast majority of my students really enjoyed it and preferred Wycherley to Shakespeare. If you want a smart, hilarious, and dark comedy that plumbs the depths of jealousy and sexual possession, this is a must-read play. If you're easily offended or have a hard time following complicated plots and catching bawdy puns, you'll certainly want to avoid it.

There's no shortage these days of Catholics who believe in astrology. No doubt there are Catholics who believe in reincarnation, the healing power of crystals, trance channeling, spirit guides and other New Age nonsense. Unicorns have nothing to do with this, however. The unicorn is barely mentioned in the main text of "The Unicorn in the Sanctuary." The cover features a ghastly demon unicorn. The brief prologue asserts that the mythical beast is an evil New Age symbol of destruction that has wrongly been associated with Christ.

There is no "wrongly" about it. Catholic writer Sandra Miesel, in an article for the impeccably orthodox This Rock magazine ("The Unicorn Hunters," August 1991), points out that church fathers Tertullian, Ambrose, Jerome and Basil called the unicorn a symbol of Christ and that it appeared widely in medieval art as a symbol of the Incarnation. The unicorn also came to symbolize chaste love and faithful marriage. And remember Jewel, the noble unicorn in C.S. Lewis' "Chronicles of Narnia."

As if misrepresentation of the unicorn weren't enough, the book as a whole is poorly researched and misleading. The text, footnotes and bibliography indicate that the author has relied heavily on the sensationalistic, anti-Catholic "cult expert" Dave Hunt. He also cites as a reference Texe Marrs, an evangelist who has alleged that all New Agers are part of a conscious, Satan-directed conspiracy to exterminate Christians by 2004; that C.S. Lewis' fiction is "New Age"; and that J.R.R. Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings" is "demonically energized." Yikes! All this is obviously fringe fundamentalist, not Catholic.

If you enjoy absurdity, you may find the book amusing. But please don't take it seriously. It's a fount of misinformation.

Some people might think Unicorn in the Sanctuary could qualify as a horror book, for all the information about Catholic dissidents and others trying to incorporate New Age sentiment in the Church. Alas, this is all too real (I've seen it myself in churches I used to attend), and England does a satisfactory job of detailing various movements (ennegrams, visualization, and non-Christian Eastern thought) trying to infiltrate the Church parish by parish.

The only thing that bothered me, as mentioned elsewhere here, was the reference to Dave Hunt's work. Mr. Hunt is rabidly anti-Catholic, and it bothered me to see his works were included in the bibliography of a Catholic book. I'm guessing Fr. Mitch Pacwa's books were not out at the time England was researching this one.

This book will open your eyes to the ways that New Age teachings are being presented by some supposedly Catholic leaders. It reminds us that we need to be strong in our faith, so that we can discern when something fishy is going on.

I give it 4 stars because I feel the author's tone creates a strong uneasiness regarding the unfamiliar, a sort of "in this place there be dragons" warning. Instead, he might have encouraged us to do more to reclaim our spiritual heritage. Through study and God's grace, we can uncover and embrace the truths that have been hijacked and twisted by the promoters of these teachings. (For example, Catholics don't need to be afraid to explore the theological dimensions of ecological questions -- as long we base our understanding of the universe on our understanding of God, rather than the other way around.) Still, I agree that avoiding questionable ideas is a safe approach, especially for those who are going through a period of spiritual or theological uncertainty.

If there's an up side to the story, it's that the people involved in this scene are an aging demographic. Today's young people generally feel free to choose their own religious paths, so someone who prefers, say, Wicca to basic Catholic teachings is likely to be honest about it and leave the Church. Although it seems like a harsh observation, this would actually be a good thing. By increasing the doctrinal unity of the Church, it would make Catholicism more appealing to reverts and converts, as well as the lifelong faithful.

Worst book I've read all year (this is being written in late November) and strong contender for worst book of the decade. Flat, leaden, dull prose. Cardboard characters with no depth. Silly little trivial asides. No sense whatever of plotting, timing or narrative. The author uses a true story from the pages of the Wall Street Journal as the basis for this book, but does not realize that he still has an obligation to write well and make the characters come alive -- you can't hang your words on an extoskeleton; the book has to have internal structure. The ending is farcial, and the subplot conflict between father and son is a genuine embarassment to read. Avoid at all costs. I want my money back!!

In just his second novel, Daniel Akst has certainly grasped a level of cynicism that nearly overshadows a brilliant book about the loss of innocence in small-town America.

Akst's The Webster Chronicle captures a town in termoil after an allegation of spanking at a local day care evolves into a national drama with the town's newspaper editor at the center of it all.

Akst weaves the plot and characters so deftly as to marvel at his level of craftsmanship. But in the midst of a thought-provoking tale, he defaces any and all societal institutions, including a tabloid media, religion, government, the justice system and corporate America, which leaves the reader with a sour taste.

With so many integral parts to the puzzle, the message is so muddled and gets lost in a maze that eventually reaches a lousy ending in the final two pages.

While Terry Mathers, Akst's complex and pot-smoking protagonist, eventually reaches an obvious epiphany, the fate Akst's creates for him is so far from what anyone might expect, particulary his final career and relationship destinations. Mathers, like his father and his wife, end the novel with no redeeming qualities.

But that is Akst's ultimate goal and message. In a complex and inter-connected world, nothing and no one are as innocent as they appear.

Daniel Akst takes his readers into the small town of Webster, where Terry Mathers and his estranged wife Abigail run the weekly newspaper, The Webster Chronicle, in a time of change. The local department store is embroiled in a takeover bid that threatens the downtown as Webster knows it (no matter that most people shop at the mall), and the Alphabet Soup preschool is so popular that they admit children on a competitive basis (even though it is used primarily for day-care and not academic enrichment.) Single parenthood is on the rise. In this environment, the stage is set for an unknowning reenactment of the Salem witch trials: a drunken, bereaved mother shouts out a single, misunderstood accusation, and the town is forever changed by hysteria.

Akst is best here when he explores Webster through the eyes of Terry Mathers, the stuttering, struggling, editor who feels that he will always be living in the shadow of his father, a well-known newscaster. Emily,the owner of the preschool who is accused of child abuse, also has a compelling perspective, but some of the others water down the central thrust of the novel. Akst, in his attempt to fully explore the issues, spreads himself too thin, sometimes glossing over areas he has carefully introduced, other times concentrating on a minor aspect. However, the quality of the writing carries this story through its weaknesses with aplomb.

Although THE WEBSTER CHRONICLE does not have the emotional energy of Akst's debut, ST. BURL'S OBITUARY, it does have the mark of a maturing novelist. Akst is a literary talent to watch.

I recommend this book for readers of literary fiction as well as for those interested in issues of small town America, false memories, child abuse, and mass hysteria.

This is going to be short. After having read "Living On The Edge" I thought I was getting another tale of life as a fisherman.Instead, what I got was life as a fisherman at town council meetings. The book is currently being used under the short leg of my pool table. ...

Being a New England fisherman (hehe-rather, woman) I found the day-to-day lives of the fisherman very interesting-who knew scallops had blue eyes? However, I had a difficult time following the time frame of events because of the way Mr. Carey jumped around. I couldn't even tell exactly what year this book was taking place without some re-reading. The politics involved are sickening in the amount of time wasted and the fact that the committees could get nothing accomplished, evidenced with the ongoing cod crisis in New England today. Too bad none of the politicians involved happened to read this book.

If you read The Perfect Storm and came away wanting to know more about the commercial fishing industry, this is the book. Carey explains the views of the men and women who risk life, limb, and fortune in the waters off Cape Cod. He also explains the tedium of public hearings and governmental rule making which impact the lives of the fishermen.

I spent the summer in a rented house overlooking the commercial fishing fleet in Bodega Bay, California. I often wondered what happened on those boats once they left the harbor, and what regulations governed them. Against the Tide explains it all.

By way of criticism, I found the characters a bit hard to follow and the discussions of the regulations a bit tedious, but overall I learned a lot.