The Alice B. Toklas Cook Book: Traditional French recipes and a window into the Parisian avant garde

Picked this up on a whim after hearing about the legendary Hashish Fudge, but I stayed for the incredible prose. Alice B. Toklas writes with a wit so sharp it could slice through the literal pounds of butter she recommends. This isn't just a cookbook; it's a field guide to a vanished version of France where food was the ultimate expression of art. The descriptions of her garden are particularly lush and sensory. I found myself more interested in her daily routines with Gertrude Stein than the actual cooking. It’s a wonderful piece of history that feels both intimate and grand.

What a delightful, waspish, and utterly singular piece of literature this turned out to be! I loved learning that Toklas wrote this while suffering from jaundice, which makes her obsession with rich foods even more hilarious. The arrangement of recipes is idiosyncratic, following the timeline of her life rather than food categories. Every page feels like a dinner party with the most interesting—and slightly judgmental—people you’ve ever met. It captures a sense of nostalgia for a simpler, albeit more decadent, time. Even if you never cook a single dish, the writing itself is a delicious treat to be savored slowly.

The chapter on the Nazi occupation alone makes this book worth the price of admission. It is incredible to read how they managed to maintain their culinary standards during such a harrowing time in history. Toklas captures the essence of French life with such vivid detail that you can almost smell the garlic and butter. I found the stories of her and Gertrude Stein navigating the black market just as compelling as the recipes. It’s a masterpiece of culinary writing that proves food is the core of memory. This is easily one of the most fascinating books in my collection.

As someone who adores the history of the Lost Generation, reading this was like stepping into a time machine. Toklas writes with such a distinct, sharp wit that you can almost hear her voice through the pages. The recipes themselves are secondary to the atmosphere she creates. From the lush descriptions of her vegetable garden to the account of their life during the wars, every chapter feels vital. It is a beautiful, if butter-heavy, tribute to her life with Gertrude Stein. This is an essential read for anyone who believes that cooking is a central component of a full life.

Alice B. Toklas has crafted something far more significant than a mere collection of kitchen instructions here. This book serves as a vivid memoir of her life with Gertrude Stein, spanning two world wars and several countries. I was fascinated by the chapter on the Nazi occupation; it’s a perspective you don't often see in a culinary context. The recipes are definitely complex and time-consuming. You’ll need an ocean of cream to get through it! While some of the sections on servants are a bit cringe-worthy by modern standards, the overall wit and passion for French cuisine make it a captivating read.

Finally got around to reading this classic after years of hearing about the infamous 'Hashish Fudge' recipe contributed by a friend. While that bit is certainly funny, the rest of the book is a surprisingly deep dive into the ritual of eating. The recipes are insanely elaborate, requiring ingredients that are hard to find and techniques that take days. Frankly, I think of it more as a travelogue through the first half of the twentieth century. Her observations on French versus American cooking styles are still relevant. It’s a bit of a snobbish read, but her passion for the subject is undeniably infectious.

Frankly, I came for the food but stayed for the gossip. The recipes are basically impossible for anyone without a professional staff, yet the asides about Picasso and other friends are golden. There is a recipe for larks that starts with plucking two dozen birds, which is just wild to read today. Her tone is dismissive of anything that isn't French, yet her wit keeps it from being too annoying. It’s a great book to pick up and put down. You can really feel the importance of the artistic life they led in every single paragraph.

Ever wonder how people survived eating this much cream? To be fair, the stories about her life in Paris and the countryside are occasionally charming and very clever. However, the recipes constantly get in the way of the narrative flow. I found myself getting bored with the endless lists of ingredients for dishes I will never make, like larks or labor-intensive lamb. The tone can be quite waspish, especially regarding French culinary superiority. It’s an interesting historical artifact, but as a practical cookbook or a memoir, it feels a bit disjointed and dated.

Looking past the culinary brilliance, there's a certain elitism here that's hard to swallow at times. The way she discusses her servants is definitely a product of its era, but it still grates. On the positive side, the memoir sections are fascinating glimpses into the lives of the rich and famous in wartime Europe. She makes even the most mundane vegetable garden sound like a work of high art. I appreciated the 3.5-star experience of reading about their travels, though I skipped most of the actual cooking instructions. It won't be to everyone's taste, but it's certainly a unique artifact of its time.

To be fair, I found the recipes entirely unusable for a modern kitchen. Who has the time to inject a leg of lamb with orange juice for an entire week while it marinates? The tone is often dismissive and incredibly snobbish, especially when she discusses her domestic help. While the stories about her life with Gertrude Stein have some historical value, the constant interruptions for complex French dishes made the narrative feel clunky. Truth is, I just got bored with the obsolete instructions. I’d say give it a miss unless you’re a die-hard Stein fan.