100 Books Like An Everlasting Meal

This book unfolds a long and brilliant argument drawn from Provenza's decades of academic research and experience with domesticated ruminants—cows, sheep, and goats. Turns out these animals are not dumb. 

In healthy pastures and rangelands Provenza illustrates their ability to select a diet of plants that provide sufficient calories, balanced nutrients, and perhaps most important, a mix of plant-made compounds that underpin normal immunity. Provenza calls this "body wisdom." 

Like ruminants, we too have body wisdom. But, the steady infiltration of ultra-processed foods into the human diet challenges body wisdom with mixed messages. While our brains get high, our cells remain malnourished. This book is a rich and extensive immersion that will transform your thinking. It's eye-opening and mind-expanding in all the best ways.  

Despite the complexity of how the brain, gut, and microbiome interact, Mayer covers the topic in a way that is readable and understandable.

I particularly liked his insights in explaining the gut as a sensory organ right up there with its digestive functions. After all, most of the immune system associates with the gut and the microbes that live there. It's an intimate relationship that also includes endocrine cells and a gut-dedicated nervous system.

So what's going on? The gut senses and surveils the human diet, passing along messages to our main brain and various other parts of our body. Whatever it is you eat, or however you characterize your diet, you'll learn what your gut thinks about it.  

Blaser's was among the initial books I read on the human microbiome and it has remained a favorite. You receive the gift of another person's deep knowledge that unveils a new and significant perspective.

Blaser uses stories of his research and experiences to share the full ramifications—good and bad—of modern medicine with a focus on antibiotics. Against this backdrop he unpacks how altering the human microbiome, especially in childhood, is a likely factor contributing to chronic diseases later in life, from asthma and allergies to gut and metabolic dysfunctions. It's sobering. But, Blaser also lays out some key immediate actions to take in medical research and clinical practice.

Ravella, a gastroenterologist, takes readers deep into the human immune system and its go-to process—inflammation. 

She provides illuminating details about macrophages (a type of immune cell) and how dietary patterns can shift their normally helpful activities to harmful ones. And only recently was it learned that immune cells need certain fats (omega-3s) to make the compounds that end an inflammatory event. Where do we get Omega-3s?

In the foods we eat, among them fatty fish like salmon, grass-fed meat and dairy, and certain nuts and seeds. I also love the history of science and Ravella provides generous sprinkles of various characters and their ideas throughout the book to share how intertwined inflammation is with human biology. 

Stories from the Kitchen is a celebration of food in fiction, an anthology of short stories combined with tidbits from novels. The authors are well known, ranging from Charles Dickens’ “Love and Oysters,” about oysters upending the life of a man and his dependable routines, to Isaak Dineson’s “Babette’s Feast,” in which a lavish dinner served by a French cook transforms the hearts and souls of the most austere members of an isolated Danish community. Another story of particular interest: M.F.K. Fisher’s heartbreaking “A Kitchen Allegory.” As in Fisher’s gastronomical non-fiction writing, in which food is her greatest metaphor, this slice of fiction uses food as a source of empathy for a woman who has to reckon with no longer being needed. Reading this entire collection underscores how my own book—though unprecedented in its number of recipes tucked within a novel— stands on a long tradition of food as… show more.

Better known by his pen-name Curnonsky, Maurice Edmond Sailland, was called the Prince of Gastronomy and was the most celebrated writer on gastronomy in France in the 20th century. Notice I say writer on gastronomy and not most famous chef or most famous cookbook author. What Curnonsky did was write about the whys and wherefores of the great provincial cuisines of France. If you think you know something about provincial French cuisine, Curnonsky will enlighten you with his explorations into the culture and geography of these various regions. The recipes in some cases will be unfamiliar and archaic, although no less delicious. The book is a gem.

No book can ever tell you, definitively, what tastes good. This one can tell you why certain things taste good to you, which is a much more interesting subject to dive into.

I found it fascinating to learn just how much all the other senses are involved when it comes to eating and drinking, it really is the most sensory-stimulating activity in our lives. Ok, perhaps the second most.

This book also goes into a subject that's close to my heart: learning to become a better taster. So many people seem to think your skill at this is fixed at birth. That's not true! If you're anything like me, then you'll love how this book opens up a whole dimension of aroma and flavour and makes your world all the richer for it.

This book was my first love in the world of food writing, and it’s a romance that still continues to nourish and ravish many years later.

Simply put, M.F.K. Fisher’s seminal memoir about living, eating, and cooking in 1930s France is one of the most eloquent and moving testaments to the radical power of gastronomy to change and deepen our lives. By sharing her own culinary revelations and gastronomical epiphanies, Fisher helped me to reflect on my own ah-ha food moments and to be hungry for more of them.

The book shows us how food connects us, cuts across time and cultures, and makes us fall in love with our own lives.

Whenever I feel a stab of nostalgia for my American childhood, I turn to M.F.K. Fisher, one of the most delightful food writers ever. The Art of Eating is a one-volume edition of six of her books, all written before I graduated from high school: it gives a funny and informative account of American (and other) eating habits before the great foodie revolution of the ‘80’s altered everything. It offers mostly food for the mind but the palate is also served by recipes I’d forgotten all about, often given both in their comfort food guise and in fancy dress.

If The Gastronomical Me was a kind of first course or appetizer into the world of food writing (and French cuisine in particular), this book is the elaborate, ornately baroque, show-stopping main.

Written by an 18th-century French judge and gourmand, the book is a fascinating compendium of meditations on a dizzying array of topics related to eating and drinking, or what Savarin calls “the pleasures of the table.”

Another reason that I love this book so much is that it’s translated by none other than M.F.K. Fisher, who provides “glosses” and witty commentaries on Savarin’s text. It’s like watching two of the most intelligent and literary gourmands to ever live have a dinner conversation hundreds of years apart.