Continuing with my habit of rereading, custom editorial encouraged by the poverty that grips us. Since starting the year I bought two books: the Coetzee's latest adventure and more than Wilt.
"Summer" by Coetzee does not disappoint, but Tom Sharpe is no longer what it was.
But what we were, re-read it. After everything that lives scoff my shelves signed by Gerald Durrell and recover Manuel Puig, I thought to turn to my reading and I can not think of anything better to undertake it with .... (Drum roll, because this is not to believe it) "1080 Recipes" by Simone Ortega.
PellÃzquense if you like, but surely as today is Father's Day and even here, amid the orange groves, comes the sound of firecrackers, the devil take them.
Then said I pry the famous cookbook. It is the third-or fourth-copy can not remember that I have. The use of his predecessors made them useless over the years: flyers, fat or grease spots tomato sauce ... well, who had completed their work.
This last issue, however, has been specially edited to turn 40 or 50 years, now I remember, the first edition, hardcover, sewn sheets instead of glued, quality paper, clear plastic jacket ... a luxury, come on. Simone Ortega
With many women and a man of my generation learned the rudiments of cooking. Confess now I use little reason why the current issue is spotless.
go back to the subject of this post, I detour. I said, I decided to reread it, after which I have no choice but to advise the Editorial Alliance, fordays, to get an overhaul.
I mean, Simone Ortega was, I think, of Alsatian origin, although born in Spain. Of their ancestors, I say, must be their absolute preference for butter. There is no recipe that does not include at least 50 grams of butter. Or wanted to end French surpluses.
So, given the anti-cholesterol hysteria that grips us and to be subject to the recommendations of the doctors and nutritionists, it would replace those no longer mountains, but mountains of butter with the most racial and healthy olive oil. Question that will undoubtedly appreciate the English olive industry.
But the editorial review should not stop there. The recipes are all calculated for 6 people, who came to be common in households in the 60's, but today I'm afraid it has fallen significantly. So, being generous, the amounts indicated must divide by two. Without taking into account that heavy meals before is decanted also suffered a blistering touch.
Some recipes are really curious. In one of them explained that need "759 grams of beans." Or 750 or 760. Just 759 grams of chickpeas, I say, if you spend a recipe gabriel breaks. But not content with this accuracy, Ortega indicated in parentheses: "other cooked." Other
cooked! Must therefore be cooked Camacho's wedding. I can not find another explanation.
There are many more details such as the one that says you have to cover the dough with a little bit thick "to indicate the following:" For example, a thin cloth or whatever is at hand. " A mother or something, I'd say.
Anyway, I'm becoming a critical cookbook. I do not know whether to leave this new hobby or switch to the criticism of knitting.
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