Clotilde Dusoulier

I am a kitchen enthusiast, but even so, it is not common for me to read a cookbook cover to cover. I was not searching for a recipe; I was not planning a weekly grocery list. Instead, I was simply drawn into what Clotilde Dusoilier has to say about food.

She paints vivid images of culinary creations, using historical, cultural, and familiar dialogues. She is able to share snippets of food history and background, without drowning me in data that is soon to be forgotten, letting me hold onto show more the information long enough to process its relevance in her introduction to the recipe. She details French cooking in a way that makes me understand why it is both an art form and achievable by the likes of me, that even soufflés that fall can still be tasty. She makes it clear that adventures in a kitchen can and should be a lifetime endeavor. Childhood memories can bring the pursuit of the perfect mashed potatoes into a full life cycle. The personal stories have made me appreciate the time I spend in the kitchen with and for my husband and children, hoping that they are creating memories that will spark them to love the exploration of food even more.

I was a follower of the blog, Chocolate and Zucchini, before picking this cookbook up. I think I took more away from the cookbook than I ever have from the blog. The connections, the groupings, the continuity all make this a strong cookbook, especially for those who are ready to learn not just recipes, or even how to begin to create your own, but how recipes can be connected to your life in both the minutia and the grand. show less

I feel a little guilty rating a cookbook without actually testing the recipes first, but it was a really nice read. And beautifully laid out. I've never read the blog, although I'd heard of it. I loved the idea of a French person being uninterested in cuisine until moving to the U.S. -- it seems so upside-down. Really enjoyed the irreverent writing (and that's supposed to be very hard to pull off in a second language). So many recipes are so simple, and don't require anything exotic. Best of show more all, there are many variations and substitution ideas provided, for when you either lack a component or don't care for it. Should be particularly handy when summer returns. show less

This charming little book, illustrated with some equally charming watercolours, gives the history and meaning of fifty different food-related French idioms. I hadn't heard of more than a handful of them before, but I'm now going to try my best to work être comme un coq dans pâte or avoir un cœur d'artichaut into my conversational French. There are also some delicious looking recipes that will likely reward further exploration.

Clotilde’s Edible Adventures is a series of reviews of different eateries in Paris. There’s the occasional anecdote and the occasional recipe. I was underwhelmed. As someone who lived in France for awhile (never Paris though), I have a certain affinity for reading about scrumptious French food. The scrumptiousness here was missing. I think my beef with it was that she seems to enjoy places that are “edgy” or “eclectic.” Fine, well, and good. But I really detest food that is a show more little bit odd just for the sake of being “cutting edge.” I’m much more appreciative of a Julia Childs type of fare: down-home or fancy french cooking, but classic. Maybe I’m narrow-minded. Maybe I’m old-fashioned. Maybe I’m missing out. Maybe, but I doubt it.

Ironically, I’ll be a dissenter from the masses on this one and not like it. It did not make me long to be back in Paris. I would think that the logical conclusion of reading such a book. show less