Paltrow - Notes from my kitchen table: delicious, easy recipes for healthy, happy living

notes from my
kitchen
table

DELICIOUS, EASY RECIPES

FOR HEALTHY, HAPPY LIVING

gwyneth paltrow

Foreword by Mario Batali

Photographs by Ellen Silverman

this book is dedicated to

my brother, Jake, my first guinea pig, who makes meals great just by being there, and for looking so much like Bruce while he is eating them. Also to our closest friends, our family really, who are always the reason to have a dinner party, the Wigmore-Reynolds, the Van Nices, the Carters, the Turly-Burnses and their extended clan, the Maudes, the Harveys, the Downeys, the McCartney-Willises, the Spielbergs, the Nadal-Saxe-Coburgs, the Conrad-Manions, the Hill-McGraws...

for Apple and Moses, hearts of my artichoke, my raisins dtre

foreword

BY MARIO BATALI

In all great cultures on Terra Madre, food and family are deeply intertwined with tradition, pleasure and responsibility. Although it is only in the last couple of decades that Americans have awakened to the complexity and magnificence of our own gastronomic quilt a pastiche of an infinite variety of cultures and delicious (relatively) young and modern gastronomic traditions it has not dampened our intense fervour or our appetite for both the food and the history of our own families and heritage, even if cobbled together over a single generation. Although the Paltrows and the Batalis are relatively recent friends of only twelve years our approach to our family traditions is similarly sacred, and our intents and appreciations equal in both intensity and pleasure.

My familys historic events, major celebrations and even simple holidays have always been punctuated not only by food but by specific dishes. Christmas Eve at Grandma and Grandpa Batalis house was a series of traditional fish dishes, the same every year. Long before I knew or cared about the sacraments of the Catholic faith, I knew that the odd-smelling baccala and tomato sauce simmering on the back of the stove in Grandmas kitchen would be served with polenta and that crab would also be a part of our meal. That Grandma served the salad after the main course was always perceived as her forgetfulness, not her strategy and her family tradition from Abruzzo. When she dipped her biscotti into her wine after dinner, we thought she was nuts and laughed with her about the seemingly odd and wacky move.

Travelling with Gwyneth or sharing dinner with her at a restaurant or in our homes, I realized that her familys gastronomic traditions were as feverishly loved and observed as those in my family. Her passion for the delicious and her delightful and even obsessive curiosity went beyond simply eating good food. She also discovered and savoured its historical perspective and relevance. These are two of the reasons we decided to pursue our shared love of Spain in the TV series Spain... On the Road Again.

To eat with someone who loves food can double the fun. To eat with Gwyneth is even more than that.

To eat with someone who loves food can double the fun. To eat with Gwyneth is even more than that. Lets put aside the fact that GP can effortlessly down a whole pan of perfect paella in Valencia or eat an entire plate of marinated anchovies in Barcelona. She simply loves not only the deliciousness of each bite, but the fact that the ritual of the table is in itself a celebration. And when food, and its preparation, becomes so much more than mere nourishment, when it becomes entertainment and folly and libidinal pleasure all rolled into one thing? At that point every meal, every snack, every shared moment of sustenance can be a celebration. And it should be not in a super serious way where overthinking can drain the fun from these moments, but in a carefree, sunrise-happy way.

Watching Gwyneth blossom as a mom cook has been fascinating. Her flexitarianism has never been an issue in the family, and I do not think that her children think for a moment they are eating a special way other than the fact that they know the shared meal itself is a special moment. They certainly do not eat fast food or processed evil and will probably enjoy better health in the long run because of that. Either that or become junk food junkies in their rebellious teens as a result!

The fundamental generosity of cooking for others is a very special role for the mom who loves to cook and eat. The concept of nurturing is a learned one, and clearly GPs whole clan (actually, BOTH her natural family and her Spanish adopted family too!) shared this belief. If this book has been a delicious exercise of introspection and documentation for Gwyneth, then the creation of the website/blog GOOP.com has crystallized her point of view in the public domain. The intersection of the two is what we cooking enthusiasts can harvest as we think about and more importantly... ENJOY!

The most important thing to take from Notes From My Kitchen Table is the true pleasure we can derive from the thinking about, then the making of and finally the enjoyment of eating good food together with people we care about.

The best way to truly understand this book? Take the Perfect Roast Chinese Duck recipe () and follow the careful instructions to the T. Eat it with some people you love.

LIVE LARGE!

introduction

OK, I WROTE A COOKBOOK.

Why? you may ask. In the last ten years or so, cooking has become my main ancillary passion in life. I have always loved food, being around it, preparing it, and of course eating it. This adoration was instilled in me by my incredible father, a supreme gourmand with a deep love for great food and wine.

I always feel closest to my father, who was the love of my life until his death in 2002, when I am in the kitchen. I can still hear him over my shoulder, heckling me, telling me to be careful with my knife, moaning with pleasure over a bite of something in the way only a Jew from Long Island can, his shoulders doing most of the talking. I will never forget how concentrated he looked in the kitchen, it almost looked like a grimace or a frown if you didnt know him. He practised incredible care and precision when he was preparing food. It was as if the deliciousness of the food would convey the love he felt in direct proportion.

He and I were always inseparable. When I was a baby, my mother was essentially the breadwinner in our house while my father was trying to rustle up a career in television. He walked me in his arms all night long as, by all accounts, I never slept. He took me everywhere with him, to each meeting and each diner, always ready to supply me with my fix of Red Cheek apple juice. We went to Jewish delicatessens and to now-extinct drive-ins where I was introduced to the finer points of the egg cream and the ice cream float. Health food was never really on the agenda; it was about fun and deliciousness and togetherness.