Welcome to My Cookbook Collection (and Newsletter)

The triumphant debut of my new cooking newsletter!

A few months ago, after seeing the term “substack” quietly appearing in various corners of my life, I engaged in a rare moment of initiative and looked up what the term meant.  Newsletters?  But trendy?  I’m in!  I’ll spare you the meta navel gazing about how exciting it is that this is my first substack (but for real, this is very exciting) and just dive into this mess.

I’m not sure where this substack will go, nor can I say with any authority if it will be useful, but it shall exist!  The goal is to talk about cooking.  What does that mean?  Not sure.  We’re all going on this journey together, you see.  But for right now, I’m casting a wide content net:  recipes I’ve tried, recipes I’ve created, cookbooks, cool serving plates, etc..  I just want to talk about food in my kitchen.

This brings us to the name “NBD Fancy.” It barely makes sense — I realize this. My friends and I coined the term over the summer as we reflected on a trend in recipes that seems to pair casual cooking with perfectly messy presentation. Telltale signs of NBD Fancy cooking: excessive dill, splashes of oil, flaky salt, blown out food photography, and of course, a vibe that screams “OH THIS? I just threw it together” even if you had 100 percent slaved away all day.

We started off mocking the pretentious, hipster qualities of NBD Fancy food… but that gave way to a realization that we all sort of love it too. I’ve gone so far as to adopt it as a lifestyle — which is not something I can define clearly, but I feel it in my bones. I like to think it’s about impromptu gatherings of friends, glasses of wine going around while a salad comes together, and herby things stacked on roasted things stacked on saucy things. Oh God, I’m becoming insufferable. I do realize there’s a very good chance an NBD Fancy lifestyle is nothing more than simply declaring that you’re adopting it.

So why did I name this newsletter NBD Fancy? First, I swear, I’m not trying to make Fetch happen. Instead, it’s because this vague, fabricated term (and lifestyle!) represents everything I do love about cooking: playfulness in the kitchen, breaking bread with friends and fam, and finding small ways to feel elevated through food. I love these things, and the more I thought about them, the more I felt compelled to write about my adventures in the kitchen — NBD Fancy or otherwise.

Naturally I will write about recipes I’ve cooked, whether they’re originals or not. I am very excited to share the bolognese recipe that started as Ina Garten’s Weeknight Bolognese but then turned into Ben’s WORLD FAMOUS bolognese after many months of pandemic tweaks.  But… BUT… beyond cooking, I also want to talk about cookbooks.

I do find there’s a distinct lack of cookbook content on the Internets, and filling that gap is one of the many things I wish to do with this substack.  Sure, there are seasonal cookbook roundups on Eater or the New York Times — especially around the Holidays— but there aren’t many full-on deep dives.  Usually the most we get are a few general paragraphs speckled with some culinary highlights and maybe a republished recipe at the end.  That’s cool and all, but I want more. I want to know what it’s like to navigate a cookbook; tell me how difficult the recipes are; are the ingredients annoying?  Do I need to buy this book?  And if I’ve bought it, what should I know?

A few years ago, Food 52 ran an annual tournament called The Piglet wherein various personalities tested cookbooks in head-to-head fashion and declared their winners.  In choosing their favorite books, the judges submitted written columns describing their experiences with the cookbooks, taking us vividly through the highs and lows of tackling various recipes.  I loved it.  At last we had granular, personal writing about cookbooks in a way that actually felt helpful.  I still remember Wendy McLendon-Covey gushing about shkvarky from the book Kachka (although, to be fair, the actress chose to do a video review instead of a written column.  SAME EFFECT THO).

Unfortunately, we had to wait all year for each Piglet tournament, and furthermore, the competition only welcomed sixteen candidates, which meant there was always a whole giant swath of cookbooks that never received any sort of love.  This was a shame.  And it was even more of a shame that Food 52 unceremoniously phased out The Piglet in 2019. Now that this feature has vanished, there’s been no consistent, reliable place to read about cookbooks.  And that’s where I come in.

Or so I hope.  My goal, among others with this substack, is to go deep with my cookbook collection. The outwardly facing part of me wants to help people make wise choices about the books they purchase or the recipes they cook.  The inner me, however, just wants more motivation to cook from the massive cookbook collection I’ve accrued over the last few years.  Honestly, I’ve spent too much money on these books, and knowing there are several that I’ve only cooked one or fewer dishes from hurts my heart.  I am leaning into the sunk cost fallacy and WILL make sure those purchases were worth it, dammit!  I bought a whole wok and have used it twice.  WE ARE DOING THIS, PEOPLE

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So, it only makes sense that for this first newsletter, I write a little something about my cookbook collection.  Initially I was going to attempt an ambitious project like listing all the cookbooks I own, but since I have north of 100 books, that idea became real annoying real quickly.

Then I thought I would do my top ten favorite cookbooks.  But again, I lost motivation as I became paralyzed with indecision.

Instead here are a bunch of books I’ve been excited about lately.  They’re the ones I’ve been either cooking from or intrigued by — more so than the others in my collection.  In no particular order beyond what my brain serves up first:

Nothing Fancy / Dining In by Alison Roman

These are two different books that often feel like they exist on the same continuum. For sure Alison Roman has her haters — perhaps deserved after her tone-deaf remarks about Chrissy Teigen (a subsequent apology was thoughtful and took accountability in a way that I appreciated) — but that aside, there’s no denying the recipes in these books.  Dining In has my go-to method for cooking steak and pork chops, and Nothing Fancyhas the salad recipe that got me through the pandemic.  After several years with these two books, I’m still reaching for them first for nearly every occasion.  Praise I usually reserve for the Queen herself, Ina Garten. Speaking of which…

Anything by Ina

I won’t belabor this point, but I’m always excited to cook a Barefoot Contessa recipe.  I have all her books and have pre-ordered the new one.  Do I really have to explain myself?

Snacking Cakes by Yossy Arefi

Anyone who’s followed my Instagram (btw follow my Instagram:  @benmandelker) has seen me whip up nearly half this book’s wonderful cakes.  This is already one of my favorite cookbooks of all time and a collection essential.  Perfect for an impromptu afternoon cake or a special occasion.

Cheryl Day’s Treasury of Southern Baking

I didn’t need a book about Southern baking in my life, especially considering my inability to shake my Covid 20.  But after seeing author Cheryl Day on PBS’s Milk Street, I cratered to my desire for her chocolate church cake.  I cannot wait to explore all the deeply rich recipes in this tome.

Italian-American: Red Sauce Classics and New Essentials by Angie Rito, Scott Tacinelli, and Jamie Feldmar

The photography in this book hooked me, I won’t lie.  I wasn’t sold until my friend Alison told me that the one dish she had made from Italian-American was deeply delicious and had nearly killed her.  Normally that sounds like a terrible thing, but I felt like it was a challenge.  So far I’ve made only one recipe from the book: an ill-fated poppy and pepper jam that succumbed to me adding rancid poppy seeds en masse to it.  I don’t blame the book; I blame me.

Cook This Book by Molly Baz

Let’s get this out of the way:  Molly Baz and her shtick drive me nuts, but enough people have told me that her recipes are great that I’ve decided to dabble in some.  They weren’t lying.  I’ve had tremendous results so far and am excited to explore further, despite often annoying prose.  Then again, am I really to judge? I mean, look at this article for crying out loud.

Treasures of the Mexican Table by Pati Jinich

I’ve made several dishes from this esteemed book, and each one has been excellent — with one caveat:  Pati Jinich’s seasoning is not always on point.  But once that salt is upped a bit, these recipes are undeniable.  Her adobo-roasted pork butt is one of the greatest pork dishes I’ve ever made.

Falestin by Sami Tamimi and Tara Wigley

One of the two forces behind the seminal cookbook Jerusalem, Sami Tamimi has offered up this collection of Palestinean recipes which include a phenomenal beet galette and an equally delicious chicken musakhan, among others.  Can’t wait to explore further.

Six Seasons by Joshua McFadden

One of my go-to books along with anything by Ina Garten and Alison Roman, this collection of vegetable-forward recipes has some real grand slams.  I’ve made a large handful of dishes from here, but I still want to explore more.  Far more.

Night + Market by Kris Yenbamroong

This is the book that got me to buy a wok.  First, let me say I’m a huge fan of the Night + Market restaurants.  Second, I’ve grown to resent most restaurant cookbooks for being wholly annoying in presentation and practicality.  But this restaurant cookbook feels accessible. I want my wok to grow dark with the many delicious offerings in this book.

Kachka by Bonnie Frumkin Morales and Deena Prichep

Speaking of chef-driven cookbooks, here’s another one — based off the Portland restaurant of the same name.  Kachka focuses on brightly flavored, classic Russian dishes such as the curiously named “Herring Under a Fur Coat.”  I love a high fashion herring (although, admittedly I have yet to try the dish – I sense a future substack article!).  Frumkin’s perlovka salad with pears, mushrooms, hazelnuts and sorrel is a staple for me — something I make when I’m feeling particularly slovenly and need a meal that’s fresh and wholesome.  But the real reason why I’m including this book on the list is because I’m hoping that one day I can put out a big, Russian spread, and spend all afternoon enjoying it with friends over sips of vodka.

Other acquisitions I’m psyched to explore more:

That Sounds So Good by Carla Lalli Music

Cookies: The New Classics by Jesse Szewczyk

Cook Real Hawai’i by Sheldon Simeon

Milk Street Fast and Slow by Christopher Kimball

The Food of Sichuan by Fuchsia Dunlop

Jubilee by Toni Tipton-Martin

Bottom of the Pot by Naz Deravian

Kaukasis by Olia Hercules

Samarkand by Caroline Eden

The Magic of Tinned Fish by Chris McDade

Coconut & Sambal by Lara Lee

Colu Cooks: Easy Fancy Food by Colu Henry

Reliable Standbys:

Made in India by Meera Sodha

Dinner: Changing the Game by Melissa Clarke

Back Pocket Pasta by Colu Henry

Milk Street Tuesday Nights by Christopher Kimball

Mexican Every Day by Rick Bayless

Jerusalem by Yotam Ottolenghi and Sami Tamimi

Indian Cooking by Madhur Jaffrey

The Perfect Scoop by David Lebovitz

Well that was a fun first entry! Thanks for going on this journey with me. Next week I’ll share my bolognese recipe, which, quite frankly, is excellent.