Serious Pig

Thorne is simply one of the most delightful food writers going, and he turns his atention to basic and often inexpensive foods without being coy or pretentious about it. He is the best antidote available to the current line-up of mega-chefs trying to out-tantrum each other. This is the real thing. It will improve your cooking because it will improve the way you think about food.

Both currently available books, `Serious Pig' and `Pot on the Fire', by John Thorne and wife Matt Lewis Thorne, are composed of essays cut from the same culinary journalistic cloth, the authors' food letter `Simple Cooking'. These essays as bodies of work do not quite fit any established form of culinary writing. It is certainly not `The Best Recipe' genre followed by the magazine `Cooks Illustrated' and some writers, although there is some element of this point of view. It is not culinary history, since it is so distinctly done from the authors' point of view. There are some essays that taste like memoir or nostalgia, but these serve more as chapters used to set the scene for text dealing with the food. It is certainly not food science a la Shirley Corriher or Alton Brown, although Alton Brown does credit Thorne as one of his biggest influences. In a nutshell, the Thornes simply provide interesting writing about food.I love intellectual connections, so I was delighted to discover that one of the wellsprings from which John Thorne draws his inspiration is the writing of Richard Olney. This ties up a string of influence from Elizabeth David to Olney to Thorne to Alton Brown, one of the most influential popular voices in culinary journalism. Olney is one of the most intellectual writers on culinary matters writing in English and available in the United States. And, it is clear not only in Thorne's `Simple Food' motto but also in his intellectual point of view that he owes much to Olney.The first thing which changed my reading Thorne from simple pleasure to respect was his essay on the Italian Panzanella salad, which he describes in great detail and with great attention to what Italians really mean when they make this salad, a combination of tomato, stale bread, red onion, mozzarella, cucumber, basil, and salt and pepper. The subtle intellectual honesty that caught my attention was when Thorne created an adaptation using fresh bread and remained true to the original nomenclature by calling his invention Panzanetta salad. Contrast this to Alton Brown's borrowing the same Panzanella term and applying it to a twist on the BLT sandwich by adding bacon and forgetting the onion and garlic. Not Panzanella at all, I think. Not much to most people, but to a person schooled in the principle that language was something to be respected, I was impressed.The second thing that caught my attention was the tale of how Thorne fell into the vocation of cooking and culinary journalism. Like so many things, and like myself, it was by accident and necessity. In Thorne's case, it was because he was a dropout with little money who needed to feed himself with as few dollars as possible. If this was the prime mover in his career path, a strong influence seems to be his Maine roots. More than one essay has the feel of Maine's Stephen King writing about food. Popular subjects are his old residences, Maine crops such as potatoes and blueberries, and Maine cuisine featuring the

Part memoir, part travelogue, and part cookbook, this compellingly readable book offers insight into the people, places, ingredients, traditions, and taste of classic American cooking.Serious Pig is broken into three main parts. In "Here," Thorne explores his Maine roots, telling stories of his grandparents' childhoods and sharing recipes for lobster stew, baked beans, and the like. In "There," Thorne covers Louisiana's cajun and creole traditions. And "Everywhere" is devoted to American classics: barbecue, pancakes, hamburgers, coffee, chili, and other food typically found in diners.The recipes are sprinkled in among all the yarns and reminiscences. This makes Serious Pig somewhat less useful as a cookbook (though there is a separate index of recipes if you really need to track one down), but it doesn't really diminish the value of the book. What you get here is a heartfelt appreciation of American cuisine and cooking, and introduction to the folklore of regional cuisine that's missing from other books. You can read Serious Pig like a novel, even if you never cook. But don't be surprised if your mouth starts watering, and you find yourself unable to finish any given chapter without a slab of pie and a cup of rich, black coffee.

A serious look at Maine cooking both past and present. Full of both commentary and recipes. It makes you eager to take a country drive, stop at a few farm stands and then go home to cook an "classic" and hearty meal full of fresh produce.Any one who has spent time along the Mid-Coast of Maine (or there abouts) will enjoy the book even more since part of "story" involves many people and places from that area including local farms, fisherman and hang-outs.