03/01/2020
Where does cooking begin? In the kitchen? At the market? In the imagination? Or further back, when the meat and vegetables of the eventual meal were growing? Eagle is a chef, pickler, and blogger, and his debut book is an assured, thoughtful, and entertaining meditation on the nature of cooking and how it touches on so many aspects of existence, not the least of which is death. Through the spring meal of the title (pickles, mackerel, potatoes, celery, and rabbit), Eagle explores the centrality of salt and water, the use of pickling and fermentation to preserve and enliven food, the "otherness" of fish, and the neglect of vegetables. He doesn't shy away from the harder parts of cookery, including slaughter and butchery, and the recipes are not really the point; instead, one trenchant idea is how food creates a web of interconnection. VERDICT Eagle enjoys thinking about food in all its ephemerality and here succeeds in sharing that experience. A solid pick for fans of food writers Nigel Slater, John Thorne, or Laurie Colwin.—Devon Thomas, Chelsea, MI
2019-11-10
London-based chef Eagle, a contributor to various culinary journals, makes his book debut with a thoughtful meditation on the craft, chemistry, and cultural history of cooking and the "inexorable currents of history and economics" that influence taste.
Winner of the Debut Food Book at the Fortnum & Mason's Awards, the author's unusual cooking manual lacks specific recipes, although he does devote several chapters to the process of making a rabbit stew. He dismisses the idea that recipes are "more-or-less scientific sets of instructions," seeing them "more like short stories—about history, about politics, and about love." Instead of emulating other cookbooks by presenting an "inaccurate account of the various things that have been done before," Eagle offers reflections on techniques—such as curing, boiling, pickling, slicing and dicing (including specific directions for onions)—that can be applied to a variety of cooking situations. "A recipe," he maintains, "is a work in progress, one outcome of a long, silent conversation between cook and cooked, which started before anyone alive today thought to pick up a knife." Once a cook knows how to make a stew, for example, complex recipes "from across the globe and the ages" are not necessary; instead, the cook would benefit more from "terse suggestions" that can be adapted to ingredients at hand. Eagle emphasizes the importance of salt, which should be added "sometimes with abandon, sometimes judiciously" at the beginning, middle, and end of cooking. Besides bringing out flavors, salt is integral to the movement of water. "The elemental act of cooking," he writes, "is chiefly the act of moving water from one place to another." In curing meat or fish, we draw water out; in boiling pasta, rice, polenta, gruel, or grain, we rehydrate. Although Eagle does not extol cooking as an art but rather a craft, he celebrates the ephemeral pleasure of eating, "where a forkful comes together with a sip and a word to produce something beautiful."
A graceful, enlightening contribution to food writing.
Praise for First, Catch:
Winner of the Fortnum and Mason’s Debut Food Book Award
Shortlisted for the 2018 Andre Simon Food & Drink Book of the Year
BBC Radio 4 Food Programme Best Foodbooks of 2018
Times Best Food Books of 2018
Financial Times Summer Food Books of 2018
“A contemplation of cooking and eating, a return to the great tradition of food writing inspired by M.F.K. Fisher’s The Gastronomical Me . . . Eagle writes with a wit and sharpness that can turn a chapter on fermenting pickles into a riff on death and decay while still making it seem like something you would like to put in your mouth.”—Mark Haskell Smith, Los Angeles Times
“In two dozen short chapters linked like little sausages, he serves up a bounty of fresh, often tart opinions about food and cooking . . . Eagle is a natural teacher; his enthusiasm and broad view of food preparation is both instructive and inspiring . . . Eagle’s prose, while conversational in tone, is as crafted and layered as his cuisine. Never bland, it is also brightly seasoned with strong opinions . . . Rare among food writing, this book is bound to change the way you think about your next meal.”—Heller McAlpin, Christian Science Monitor
“Eagle, a chef and food writer, uses a nine-dish lunch as the occasion to ruminate about cooking, and life.”—New York Times Book Review
“A cookbook without recipes! First, Catch is an absolute delight from Thom Eagle, noted food writer, freelance chef, and expert fermenter. (Yes, fermenter.) In this beautifully bound book, you will not not find step-by-step instructions on how to cook an impressive meal for your friends, but the knowledge you will glean from sitting with this active and inventive mind will doubtedly liven the conversation. From slaughter to human connection, Thom Eagle will carry you through the unexpected aspects of food, and you will be hungry for more!”—Literary Hub
“In this gorgeously written debut, London chef Eagle reflects on the foods, customs, and histories that come into play in selecting and serving a multi-dish lunch. Twenty-four essays guide readers in meal preparation while offering curious tidbits, cultural insights, and moral arguments on food . . . This wonderfully indulgent, pleasurable compilation of culinary meditations will thrill food lovers.”—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“A thoughtful meditation on the craft, chemistry, and cultural history of cooking and the ‘inexorable currents of history and economics’ that influence taste . . . A graceful, enlightening contribution to food writing.”—Kirkus Reviews
“Like many contemporary chefs, Eagle likes to philosophize about ingredients. He looks at the most mundane, taken-for-granted elements of cooking and finds in them science, culture, and wisdom . . . Eagle’s ruminative prose offers as much for the mind as for the stomach.”—Booklist
“An assured, thoughtful, and entertaining meditation on the nature of cooking and how it touches on so many aspects of existence, not the least of which is death . . . Eagle enjoys thinking about food in all its ephemerality and here succeeds in sharing that experience. A solid pick for fans of food writers Nigel Slaters, John Thorne, or Laurie Colwin.”—Library Journal
“A one-off, the kind of food book that I believed was no longer being published. Instead of recipes, the young chef Thom Eagle writes a series of philosophical kitchen reveries: on seasoning with salt and fat, on blanching vegetables or on the slicing and cooking of onions. He writes so well about being in the kitchen—the ‘comforting tick of knife against board’—that when I reached the last page, I went back to the beginning.”—Bee Wilson, Times (UK)
“A book as rich and rewarding as the rabbit stew he spends so many chapters making.”—Jenny Linford, Times Literary Supplement
“I’m not sure what it says about the state of food publishing that it feels so tantalizingly transgressive to find a book that looks beautiful, feels lovely in the hand and just contains words—gorgeous, thoughtful essays on the making of a single early spring meal from a talented chef and writer.”—Tim Hayward, Financial Times
“A wonderful taste of fresh air. It is food writing that is allowed to breath, liberally . . . Almost revolutionary. . . Thom has a wonderful mind. This book contains his meandering thoughts as he cooks a single spring meal. There are recipes within the writing but this is the perfect antidote to a five minute meal cookbook. Thom doesn’t just say ‘boil a pan of water,’ he spends a few thousand words exploring this magical element, a deeper musing on water itself and how you can actually burn the stuff. His words are delicious, musical heaven.”—William Sitwell, Spear’s Magazine
“Thom Eagle’s writing is pure joy—effortless and unaffected. Even such a seemingly banal and simple thing as boiling vegetables is engaging and illuminating in his hands. He is easily one of my favorite writers, and this book deserves to become a classic.”—Olia Hercules, author of Mamushka and Kaukasis