Jeffrey Steingarten

I've seen Jeffrey Steingarten as a judge on the cooking competition show Iron Chef America and I've always enjoyed his gruff, opinionated personality - and especially his clear love of food! I was excited to finally get a chance to read the book for which he's best known.

It's everything I hoped it would be - opinionated, intelligent, learned, passionate, articulate, and funny.

I do have some issues with the structure of the work. This book is a collection of his food writings from the show more mid-1980s through the mid-1990s. It's not a cohesive narrative. There's absolutely nothing wrong with that... but I've discovered recently that this isn't my favorite style of book to read. Each chapter is wonderful, taken its own. I just have a hard time getting into the flow of reading when the narrative is so episodic, and the episodes aren't connected. It makes for a choppy experience.

What makes this book important - invaluable, in my opinion - is the argument it presents for being well-informed about food and nutrition. Mr. Steingarten insists on researching various health, nutritional, and cooking issues as deeply as possible; he constantly seeks to see through the hype and pop-science, to dismiss the fads and fears, and learn what we actually know about these things. It turns out that knowledge is frequently very different than what we're told.

Bear in mind, though, that this book came out in 1997, so the state of knowledge has changed since its publication.

If everyone made even half the effort Mr. Steingarten goes to, to learn what we really know about how we eat - this country would be much, much healthier. And our food would be far more joyous! show less

This is a collection of food writing by columnist Jeffrey Steingarten.

Steingarten’s essays on food reveal a man who is so obsessed with good cooking and the pleasures it brings that he will do all of those things many of us wouldn’t dare to attempt in the search for a good meal. He will spend all day with French villagers taking apart a pig to learn the secrets of blood sausage. He will attempt to turn his home oven into a 900-degree pizza oven trying to reproduce truly great pizza crust show more at home. He will order every electric rotisserie and rotisserie attachment knkown to man to try to recreate spit-roasted chicken without the fireplace. And he writes about all of his culinary adventures with a dry wit, self-deprecating humor and complete disdain for food phobias, allergies, and the arcane rules and regulations of the USDA. It is not often that reading about cooking and eating is more fun than actually cooking and eating, but this book is the exception that proves the rule. And you can do it all afternoon without gaining a pound, unless you are overcome by the urge to try one or three of Steingarten’s exacting recipes. show less

As any regular viewer of Iron Chef America on the Food Network knows, Jeffrey Steingarten has made occasional appearances on that show as a sarcastic, sardonic and often severe judge. He is sort of the Simon Cowell to the chef set: “This food is overcooked, unseasoned, and simply awful—and that toque makes you look fat!” He is the one that all competitors fear and respect the most and the only jurist who appears to have made Bobby Flay nervous.

I do not read his regular contributions in show more Vogue magazine, so I did not know that Steingarten can also be a subtle and wonderful writer. He has been a dedicated “foodie” for at least a decade before that term became fashionable and his passion is reflected throughout this series of essays, which encompass such diverse topics as the best way to bake bread, how to judge a pork rib cooking contest, why the French diet is healthy, and what makes salad so bad for you. Beyond that, he writes about his gastronomic travels around the world with such unrestrained relish that it is easy for the reader to be pulled right along with him.

Not all the essays in this book are successful; Steingarten’s penchant for “research” can be cloying and pedantic, as in the pieces on cooking with fat substitutes, trying to find the best ketchup, or testing the chemical composition of water, while other essays are hopelessly dated (e.g., how microwave ovens work). However, he is more often very insightful and genuinely funny when writing about both the mundane (salt) and the more exotic (producing true choucroute). His chapters on cooking seafood in Venice and eating his way through Tunisia are nothing short of brilliant.

Steingarten does not pretend to be an expert on any particular topic but, as an attorney by training, he definitely knows the right questions to ask and he is never afraid to put theory into practice in the kitchen. This book definitely could have used better editing—at about 500 pages, it is really way too bloated for comfortable consumption—but ultimately the good does outweigh the bad. show less

Even though The Man Who Ate Everything was published over twenty years ago, I have to think some of the truths Steingarten uncovered about food and the consumer industry are still true. Prices and other forms of economic data might be outdated but doesn't Heinz still rule the ketchup competition? Is there still a Wall Street branch of McDonald's at 160 Broadway, two blocks north of Trinity church? Steingarten will amuse you on a variety of topics from the safest time to eat an oyster, the show more chemical makeup of the best tasting water and the discussion of Campbell's soup recipes to instructions on how to produce perfectly mashed potatoes and french fries (is it the potatoe, the oil, the salt, or the technique?). Even Jane Austen gets a mention into his book. You will pay more attention to the waitstaff in a fancy restaurant after you read The Man Who Ate Everything.
One surprise while reading Steingarten. His quest to be thin. I have a hard time picturing any man looking attractive and healthy at a mere 116lbs. Okay, except maybe Prince. show less