There is no other cookbook that has had a greater influence on me as a writer. Suzanne’s recipes and menus for elegant yet unfussy dinner parties remain endlessly inspirational. After reading this book, I wrote a letter to Suzanne telling her how much I admired her cookbook and basically begging for a job. We ended up working together and I even got married at her restaurant.

This delectable cookbook is my sneaky way of recommending the entire Bruno, Chief of Police, mystery series by Martin Walker, set in southern France.

Bruno fits his detecting in between leisurely meals, good wine, and visits with his neighbors. Thanks to this cookbook by Martin Walker and his wife, Julia Watson, I can picture him and his village even better now and taste his delicious meals.

The recipes come from their home kitchen. Photos show the glorious Dordogne region. Anecdotes and stories tell of Bruno, cooking, village life, and the authors’ time in southern France. I want this book for my coffee table, kitchen, and soothing bedtime reading. 

This is the heartwarming and inspiring story of the journey a great chef took from serving as a lowly apprentice to becoming a leader in establishing new food traditions in America. I especially enjoyed the many funny stories about Pepin and his family. Warning: the book includes many of his favorite recipes that will cause hunger pangs as you read the book. 

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.

Years ago, I met Gigi Pandian at a mystery conference. She is a gifted and spiritual woman. I adore her writing.

In this book, Zoe Faust, an alchemist, moves to the Northwest and discovers a stowaway in her luggage—a live gargoyle named Dorian who can cook French cuisine! Oh, man, wouldn’t you love to have a “familiar” that cooks?

Zoe moved, hoping to put her old life behind her, but she can’t when she discovers her new friend Dorian is turning to stone and only she can save him. 

This story is clever beyond words. FYI, Gigi is a gargoyle expert! If you meet her, ask to see her collection of photographs.

Commencing with that momentous lunch of Sole Meunière (“it was the most exciting meal of my life”), which launched Julia Child on her quest to unravel the secrets of French cuisine, this is a delightful memoir of the post-war years of the future celebrity chef spent in Paris and Marseille with her charming husband Paul. I can hear Child’s hearty laugh and exuberant voice throughout as she regales us lucky readers with stories of learning how to properly scramble an egg at Le Cordon Bleu, of visits to the local crémerie for fresh-churned butter and Camembert cheese, and late-night dinner parties at their Parisian digs. Few books have made me smile (and feel hungry) as much as this one did. 

The subtitle, Lessons in Food and Love from a Year in Paris, drew me to this memoir of a woman stranded in the city of her dreams without her husband. She fills her lonely days learning about French food. I enjoyed the memoir’s structure. Each chapter studies an iconic local dish: the history of the dish, the way it is made, her travels to find it, and tasting...lots of tasting. Her recipes, adjusted for American kitchens, are the bonus de resistance.  

But Mah doesn’t write only about food. She also shares her struggles with loneliness, missing her husband, and finding her way around France on her own. I totally recommend this personal and informative memoir by a Chinese American Francophile. 

Of that group of 1970 expats, only Richard Olney made France his home. Settling in Provence, he enjoyed Lulu's legendary hospitality at the Peyraud family vineyard Domaine Tempier, at nearby Bandol, and spent many hours in her kitchen recording her recipes and culinary tips ('lots of garlic'). To me, Lulu's recipes represent the heart and soul of gastronomic Provence, with direct lineage to the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, such as her Daube à la Provençale with its obligatory accompaniment of macaroni. Essentially simple, her cuisine revels in the robust accents of anchovies and garlic, thyme and savory as it celebrates seasonal and local—if not quite so local as her own backyard, like our landlady on the cherry orchard near Carpentras. 

This book is about the early modern cooking revolution. Basing her investigation on a ground-breaking recipe book from 1651, Peterson examines the fundamental shift in European food tastes from the medieval preference for fragrant, heavily spiced dishes that combined sweet and savoury to the salt-acid followed by sweet that forms the basis of modern European cookery. This book was not written for an academic audience, so although it is well-informed it is not a demanding read for non-experts. The book contains a few recipes that are worth trying, and as a whole it’s a colourful and compelling story.

This book is a delicious food memoir, travelogue, and two-wheeling adventure around France. London-based food writer Felicity Cloake sets out on her own Tour de France: a cycling tour to taste France’s iconic regional delicacies. Now, I’m an ardent Tour de France fan—from my sofa!

As for cycling, I stick to quiet bike paths. I’m in awe of Cloake’s tour and bravery. She cycles long distances on motorways. She crests mountains. She lugs camping gear. She camps! I felt right there with her, rolling through gorgeous places, struggling uphill, savoring stunning meals, and envying every croissant, even those she rated less than ten out of ten.

I enjoyed the audio version so much that I bought a paper copy for the included recipes.