Ruhlman's Twenty: 20 Techniques 100 Recipes A Cook's Manifesto

It's ironic that the first chapter of Ruhlman's Twenty is titled "Think"; he obviously didn't do nearly enough thinking while writing this book. His premise, that there are only a handful of cooking techniques one needs to know, is sound, if unoriginal (James Peterson said the same thing in his 2007 book "Cooking"). But right away he starts to go wrong - most of his "techniques" are not techniques at all. He seems to understand that on one level, yet with an illogical flurry worthy of Humpty Dumpty in "Through the Looking Glass," he conflates actual technique (poaching) with ingredients (eggs) and even complex preparations (soup).

It's not that I think acid, salt, eggs and water are unimportant in cooking; Ruhlman is right in putting them front and center. But when he insists on calling ingredients and recipes "techniques" he creates unnecessary confusion - both in his writing and in the structure of the book as a whole.

Take eggs, for instance. If he treated them as an ingredient, then the egg section would have such recipes as poached eggs, scrambled eggs, deviled eggs, and perhaps angel food cake (which relies on whipped egg whites for its structure). Instead, because he can't figure out the difference between ingredients and techniques, the egg chapter contains scrambled eggs, but poached eggs are in "Poach"; deviled eggs are in "Chill" and angel food cake makes an appearance in "Sugar." Trying to guess where any particular type of recipe will end up a dizzying exercise in futility. Meatloaf is in "Water" because it's cooked in a water bath, but while his cheesecake is also cooked in a water bath, that recipe appears in "Eggs." A recipe for grapefruit granite shows up in "Chill" but lemon-lime sorbet is in "Sugar."

Confused writing is one thing. But Ruhlman is also sometimes flat out wrong. In "Water," for instance, he stresses over and over again that water always boils at 212F/100C. Anyone living in Denver, Salt Lake City or Peru can tell you this is false, as can anyone who's ever cooked with a pressure cooker. Also in Water, he gushes over the capacity of water to dissolve flavor molecules, but in his enthusiasm, he goes on to say that "the same thing doesn't happen with oil, or with any other liquid." Actually, yes it does; oil and alcohol both dissolve taste molecules. In the salt chapter, he says on one page that 40 grams of salt in a liter of water gives you a 1-percent solution (it doesn't) and yet on the next page he says that 50 grams in a liter gives you a 5-percent brine (it does).

On the positive side, the photos are great, as far as they go. But why have a photo of salting a chicken, which I think most people can figure out, and not have photos of trussing a chicken (which he doesn't even bother to describe) or boning out a chicken breast (which he describes, but not well)?

Overall, this is a book that with more care could have been very useful. But as he wrote it, it's frustrating and sloppy. Ruhlman would have done well to heed his own advice: "Pay attention."

I am a big fan of -- his books and his blog. Time and again, I have seminal moments of my life as a cook that involve his work.

So it is no surprise that I stayed up late one night to read TWENTY and then immediately started in on the recipes. The book is nothing short of brilliant.

And let me tell you why you should pay attention to my review.

I know the fundamentals of cooking. I went to culinary school and graduated at the top of my class.

And I know recipes. I actually wrote recipes for chefs for 14 years in my work as a restaurant publicist for 14 years. Most chefs, you see, can't write a recipe so I would have to get the ideas from them and then write up the actual process. Once, I got a "recipe" from a rather famous chef that was written on a bevnap. It said, "take veal, make ragu." I had to translate that into something for the NYT. I did, I sent it in, and the Food Editor wrote back to tell me that the recipe "from the chef" was the best recipe he made all year.

So, I have some cooking cred.

And yet, I am learning from TWENTY. A lot.

I am not sure if this is an awesome book for absolute beginners. Though there is enough instruction in there that a smart person who pays attention could, in fact, use this as a 101 book. But I do know it is *essential* for anyone who thinks they are a competent cook and is confident in their kitchen abilities.

Buy it. Now.

This book is life-changing. My husband said I'm being hyperbolic by saying that, but it's true. When we got married, he was capable of making instant mashed potatoes (blech), Hamburger Helper (Lord, help us all), and frozen pizza. Fast forward 6-7 years--he ordered this cook book after hearing about it on NPR. I started coming home from my shifts at the hospital to savory soufflés, the most perfect pulled pork, fish tacos with fresh salsa, french onion soup, and on and on. He is a science guy and has enjoyed reading WHY certain cooking methods are used. I'm happy to have good food to eat and to see him explore a new hobby he enjoys so much. We rarely eat out anymore because we always have such good food at home.

It really has changed our lives, including both how we eat and how we survive as parents of young children. Sometimes we feed the kids early, then put them to bed so we can have a glass of wine, cook together, and catch up with each other. Ruhlman described near the Bacon Arugula Salad recipe how cooking together strengthens relationships, and I have to agree. I love the nights we stay in and try a new recipe or revisit a favorite one.

There are still some recipes that we haven't tried in the book, but others we use weekly or seasonally. Some of them are a little more involved (fried chicken and pan fried pork chops which both require brining), while other things we've picked up from that book are so simple yet so profound. Like how to scramble eggs. It's just a small change or two, but the result is astounding. Roast chicken. Who knew it could be so easy to cook a chicken and then come up with a delicious pan sauce for that chicken? We make it weekly. The coq au vin is "my" recipe that I like making, and while it feels fancy, it's actually quite simple and doesn't create a ton of dishes for me to clean up after. That is a WIN in my book.

The ONLY thing I haven't been extremely impressed with are some of the baking recipes. Cakes, cookies, etc. I've only tried a few of the recipes, and while they aren't bad, I prefer to find those types of recipes elsewhere.

I decided to wait until I'd made several things from this book before I reviewed it. Currently I've made lemon confit (though it'll be 10 weeks before I can use it!), pizza dough, bacon-and-egg pizza, roasted shallots, and coq au vin.

The pizza was brilliant, even though I managed to overcook it a bit at all possible stages. I am hankering to make it again. Both the pizza itself and the crust are dead easy, and taste wonderful! The crust is crisp, but not at all like a cracker; I have some in the fridge to make tomorrow, because as written, it only takes 3 hours- that's great! but doesn't leave time for the dough to ferment. It'll be interesting to taste how it is after fermenting for a couple of days in the fridge. For the pizza as a whole, the balance of cheese, bacon, and eggs is just perfect and very crave-able.

The lemon confit was really easy to make, too. I can't use it yet because it requires 3 months curing, but it worked well. I've done 2 jars: one is conventional lemons, and the other is Meyer lemons. The recipe calls for 2 pounds of salt and one of sugar for 5 lemons; that seems excessive, since mine are going well with 9-10 lemons and 3/8ths the amount of sugar, salt and water.

The roasted shallots are like candy; I could eat them all day, but heroically refrained because I need some for the coq au vin, which we just ate and which is rich and flavorful and amazing. It did take me closer to 2 hours than 1 hour to make it, but it's so worth it; it's the best coq au vin I've ever made.

But- I didn't buy this just for the recipes. I really love Ruhlman's thoughtful approach to cooking, and the text parts are what I am valuing as I'm reading this. It is not a book of recipes; it's a considered approach about HOW to cook. If you like Cook's Illustrated, Ruhlman is definitely someone to read.

My only quibble: more and more, ambitious cookbooks seem to be vying for coffee-table-book status: they are getting huge and heavy and unwieldy. This makes them harder to read- and this one needs to be read- and harder to cook from. I do not care for this trend.

Still- I'm about a third of the way through reading it (albeit with difficulty), and have learned a lot from the text- and the recipes I've tried have been spot-on, and I want to make them all again soon.

Edited to add: This book is a game-changer. I have been a really competent and skillful home cook for years now. These recipes rev it up at least an order of magnitude. While most restaurants cannot out-cook me at my previous level- I really doubt that much of ANYONE could outcook these. Totally BRILLIANT.

Another addition: I have just made the French onion soup. WOW. It is delicious and brilliant, though i wish he'd warned me that caramelizing 8+ pounds of onions would take not just "hours" but 10 or so hours! It's very worth it, though; I adore caramelized onions, and this soup emphasizes them. I do recommend adding the optional wine vinegar at the end; the brightness accents the sweetness of the onions.

I look forward to trying more recipes from this! Both the recipes and the text are making me a more thoughtful and knowlegable cook.

Addendum: Several months after writing this, it has become one of my favorite cookbooks. The pizza with bacon and eggs is one of my favorite recipes ever- and the pizza crust is excellent for a basic NY-style pizza as well (Ruhlman also has an excellent simple tomato sauce that works great for this, as well as for a simple pasta).

My husband and I just enjoyed the simple Coq au Vin for probably the third time- it's pretty easy, and tastes gorgeous. The sauteed mushrooms are simple but utterly perfect. I've only made a smattering of the recipes, but every single one of them has been perfect! and the text is thoughtful and helpful when one wants to understand coking, and not just follow recipes.

This is the only book that i bought not only in dead-tree, but also for my Kindle-and I don't regret that redundancy.

VERY recommended for a thoughtful or ambitious cook.

I decided to wait until I'd made several things from this book before I reviewed it. Currently I've made lemon confit (though it'll be 10 weeks before I can use it!), pizza dough, bacon-and-egg pizza, roasted shallots, and coq au vin.

The pizza was brilliant, even though I managed to overcook it a bit at all possible stages. I am hankering to make it again. Both the pizza itself and the crust are dead easy, and taste wonderful! The crust is crisp, but not at all like a cracker; I have some in the fridge to make tomorrow, because as written, it only takes 3 hours- that's great! but doesn't leave time for the dough to ferment. It'll be interesting to taste how it is after fermenting for a couple of days in the fridge. For the pizza as a whole, the balance of cheese, bacon, and eggs is just perfect and very crave-able.

The lemon confit was really easy to make, too. I can't use it yet because it requires 3 months curing, but it worked well. I've done 2 jars: one is conventional lemons, and the other is Meyer lemons. The recipe calls for 2 pounds of salt and one of sugar for 5 lemons; that seems excessive, since mine are going well with 9-10 lemons and 3/8ths the amount of sugar, salt and water.

The roasted shallots are like candy; I could eat them all day, but heroically refrained because I need some for the coq au vin, which we just ate and which is rich and flavorful and amazing. It did take me closer to 2 hours than 1 hour to make it, but it's so worth it; it's the best coq au vin I've ever made.

But- I didn't buy this just for the recipes. I really love Ruhlman's thoughtful approach to cooking, and the text parts are what I am valuing as I'm reading this. It is not a book of recipes; it's a considered approach about HOW to cook. If you like Cook's Illustrated, Ruhlman is definitely someone to read.

My only quibble: more and more, ambitious cookbooks seem to be vying for coffee-table-book status: they are getting huge and heavy and unwieldy. This makes them harder to read- and this one needs to be read- and harder to cook from. I do not care for this trend.

Still- I'm about a third of the way through reading it (albeit with difficulty), and have learned a lot from the text- and the recipes I've tried have been spot-on, and I want to make them all again soon.

Edited to add: This book is a game-changer. I have been a really competent and skillful home cook for years now. These recipes rev it up at least an order of magnitude. While most restaurants cannot out-cook me at my previous level- I really doubt that much of ANYONE could outcook these. Totally BRILLIANT.

Another addition: I have just made the French onion soup. WOW. It is delicious and brilliant, though i wish he'd warned me that caramelizing 8+ pounds of onions would take not just "hours" but 10 or so hours! It's very worth it, though; I adore caramelized onions, and this soup emphasizes them. I do recommend adding the optional wine vinegar at the end; the brightness accents the sweetness of the onions.

I look forward to trying more recipes from this! Both the recipes and the text are making me a more thoughtful and knowlegable cook.

Addendum: Several months after writing this, it has become one of my favorite cookbooks. The pizza with bacon and eggs is one of my favorite recipes ever- and the pizza crust is excellent for a basic NY-style pizza as well (Ruhlman also has an excellent simple tomato sauce that works great for this, as well as for a simple pasta).

My husband and I just enjoyed the simple Coq au Vin for probably the third time- it's pretty easy, and tastes gorgeous. The sauteed mushrooms are simple but utterly perfect. I've only made a smattering of the recipes, but every single one of them has been perfect! and the text is thoughtful and helpful when one wants to understand coking, and not just follow recipes.

This is the only book that i bought not only in dead-tree, but also for my Kindle-and I don't regret that redundancy.

VERY recommended for a thoughtful or ambitious cook.

I decided to wait until I'd made several things from this book before I reviewed it. Currently I've made lemon confit (though it'll be 10 weeks before I can use it!), pizza dough, bacon-and-egg pizza, roasted shallots, and coq au vin.

The pizza was brilliant, even though I managed to overcook it a bit at all possible stages. I am hankering to make it again. Both the pizza itself and the crust are dead easy, and taste wonderful! The crust is crisp, but not at all like a cracker; I have some in the fridge to make tomorrow, because as written, it only takes 3 hours- that's great! but doesn't leave time for the dough to ferment. It'll be interesting to taste how it is after fermenting for a couple of days in the fridge. For the pizza as a whole, the balance of cheese, bacon, and eggs is just perfect and very crave-able.

The lemon confit was really easy to make, too. I can't use it yet because it requires 3 months curing, but it worked well. I've done 2 jars: one is conventional lemons, and the other is Meyer lemons. The recipe calls for 2 pounds of salt and one of sugar for 5 lemons; that seems excessive, since mine are going well with 9-10 lemons and 3/8ths the amount of sugar, salt and water.

The roasted shallots are like candy; I could eat them all day, but heroically refrained because I need some for the coq au vin, which we just ate and which is rich and flavorful and amazing. It did take me closer to 2 hours than 1 hour to make it, but it's so worth it; it's the best coq au vin I've ever made.

But- I didn't buy this just for the recipes. I really love Ruhlman's thoughtful approach to cooking, and the text parts are what I am valuing as I'm reading this. It is not a book of recipes; it's a considered approach about HOW to cook. If you like Cook's Illustrated, Ruhlman is definitely someone to read.

My only quibble: more and more, ambitious cookbooks seem to be vying for coffee-table-book status: they are getting huge and heavy and unwieldy. This makes them harder to read- and this one needs to be read- and harder to cook from. I do not care for this trend.

Still- I'm about a third of the way through reading it (albeit with difficulty), and have learned a lot from the text- and the recipes I've tried have been spot-on, and I want to make them all again soon.

Edited to add: This book is a game-changer. I have been a really competent and skillful home cook for years now. These recipes rev it up at least an order of magnitude. While most restaurants cannot out-cook me at my previous level- I really doubt that much of ANYONE could outcook these. Totally BRILLIANT.

Another addition: I have just made the French onion soup. WOW. It is delicious and brilliant, though i wish he'd warned me that caramelizing 8+ pounds of onions would take not just "hours" but 10 or so hours! It's very worth it, though; I adore caramelized onions, and this soup emphasizes them. I do recommend adding the optional wine vinegar at the end; the brightness accents the sweetness of the onions.

I look forward to trying more recipes from this! Both the recipes and the text are making me a more thoughtful and knowlegable cook.

Addendum: Several months after writing this, it has become one of my favorite cookbooks. The pizza with bacon and eggs is one of my favorite recipes ever- and the pizza crust is excellent for a basic NY-style pizza as well (Ruhlman also has an excellent simple tomato sauce that works great for this, as well as for a simple pasta).

My husband and I just enjoyed the simple Coq au Vin for probably the third time- it's pretty easy, and tastes gorgeous. The sauteed mushrooms are simple but utterly perfect. I've only made a smattering of the recipes, but every single one of them has been perfect! and the text is thoughtful and helpful when one wants to understand coking, and not just follow recipes.

This is the only book that i bought not only in dead-tree, but also for my Kindle-and I don't regret that redundancy.

VERY recommended for a thoughtful or ambitious cook.

sorry for the rhyme, but honestly, if you are serious about creating very good food in your home then this is the book that will catapult you forward. ruhlman's style of writing is a pleasure to read and you will learn an incredible amount about how to cook food properly to make delicious meals. just read it cover to cover. this book is a wonder. truly. buy it now. (i'd trade 20 of my top favorite cook books for this one)

I've read at least two dozen books about cooks and cooking, yet no matter how many wonderful books I read, Michael Ruhlman has always been my number one recommendation. I always tell the novice reader of books about cooks and cooking that "The Soul of the Chef" remains my favorite. Not surprisingly, then, I've read all of Ruhlman's books, so imagine my disappointment when I couldn't finish "Ruhlman's Twenty." Two reasons: 1) Ruhlman has become quite disdainful and arrogant about too many issues. I want and appreciate it when a cookbook author tells me, for example, that I needn't and shouldn't use canned stock but Michael Ruhlman has crossed the line with his opinion on this and other subjects. He arrogantly and somewhat angrily snubs his nose at those of us who find packaged stock an acceptable ingredient. 2) Ruhlman throws too much technical information at the reader way too quickly. I like to learn about the chemistry of food, but Michael throws this information at the reader like it's a graduate school course.

Even though I was learning important information about, say, the delicacy of eggs, I simply couldn't stomach the arrogant tone and barrage of difficult-to-digest information. I stopped reading 1/4 the way through.

I've read at least two dozen books about cooks and cooking, yet no matter how many wonderful books I read, Michael Ruhlman has always been my number one recommendation. I always tell the novice reader of books about cooks and cooking that "The Soul of the Chef" remains my favorite. Not surprisingly, then, I've read all of Ruhlman's books, so imagine my disappointment when I couldn't finish "Ruhlman's Twenty." Two reasons: 1) Ruhlman has become quite disdainful and arrogant about too many issues. I want and appreciate it when a cookbook author tells me, for example, that I needn't and shouldn't use canned stock but Michael Ruhlman has crossed the line with his opinion on this and other subjects. He arrogantly and somewhat angrily snubs his nose at those of us who find packaged stock an acceptable ingredient. 2) Ruhlman throws too much technical information at the reader way too quickly. I like to learn about the chemistry of food, but Michael throws this information at the reader like it's a graduate school course.

Even though I was learning important information about, say, the delicacy of eggs, I simply couldn't stomach the arrogant tone and barrage of difficult-to-digest information. I stopped reading 1/4 the way through.

I was so enthusiastic about this book that I bought the hardcopy and -- shortly after it arrived -- also bought the Kindle edition, which I had not anticipated having a lot of nice color photos and being so nicely done for Kindle. I read and enjoyed Michael's book about his adventures at the C.I.A. and the tidbits of technique that came along as a fringe benefit. And how could a book strongly endorsed by Thomas Keller, Alton Brown, and Martha Stewart not be a great book?

Maybe it is a great book. I've skipped around and only read three chapters straight through. I've seen some bits that were rather eye-opening and expect those kinds of high-level kitchen "resets" to be the most valuable piece. As it happens, I was contemplating spending a hundred and thirty bucks for an ounce of black truffle which will be out of season soon. I don't have a lot of opportunity to eat out at high-end restaurants and have never really had a truffle dish. Sure, I've got the "truffle oil" (which I have read is not a serious product) and I've got the salt with bits of truffle in it. But since I can't make it to southwest France in the winter or make a culinary pilgrimage to distant, great American restaurants, I have decided that my best bet for meeting the diamonds of cuisine is to arrange my own three-day fest of breakfasts of truffles and eggs, truffles and grits, etc., and -- later in the day -- truffles with pasta and truffles with polenta and, perhaps, un poulet en demi-deuil. In other words, a one-ounce, black truffle fest as far as I can stretch it.

I am dreaming of these truffles when Michael hits me up 'side the head with this arresting idea: Onions are incredible and would be as expensive and sought after as any prized ingredient if they weren't so common. Pay attention to the humble onion, he urges us.

The splendor of the onion was not exactly news to me. I often have a bland chicken breast at a local cafeteria just because it comes accompanied by a serving spoon full of grilled onions (and, of course, because it is low calorie). But a few grilled onions never fail to get my attention with their wonderful simplicity and sweet deliciousness. I wasn't just waiting for Michael to call my attention to onions and the need to "learn" them as a cook just as one needs to "learn" butter and eggs and other cornerstone ingredients. But Michael redirected my attention toward the onion and was responsible for the insight that it would be real stupid for me -- at this stage of my development as a cook -- to chase the pricey black diamonds when I've not yet learned what to do with the splendor of the onion. I expect a lot of this kind of insight from this book.

OTOH, the writing -- IMO -- is not strikingly lucid in the details. A day or two ago, I read about preserving lemons. Perhaps unfortunately, I did not come fresh to this topic as I had very recently read Thomas Keller on his technique for preserving lemons, thin-skinned lemons and, when they are cured, chopping them up and using the whole lemon.

I thought Michael was presenting the same idea, especially since he has spent time at the French Laundry and seems to have a good professional relationship with Keller. But I was confused as I read the explanation and amazed when it casually referred to using ~the peels~ leaving me to believe that the rest of the cured lemon was to be discarded or put to whatever use one might find. Like a lot of what I have read in this book, it just did not seem very explicit. I thought I was preserving ~lemons~ but it seems that I was preserving lemon ~peel~. Could I have misread? Maybe...but I looked back several times. If it was only lemon peel that we were after, we should have understood that before diving into the procedure. Now Michael or someone may appear here with a quoted phrase that makes it all clear, and I did not go back and check one last time to see if I had a point. Actually, I read fairly well. I read it, looked back at it a time or two, and came away confused.

Last night I read Michael's recipe for cou au vin and just found it hard to follow. I believe we partially cook our chicken legs under direct heat while we prepare a pot with some bacon, aromatics, etc. and then add in the chicken legs to finish cooking them along with the other ingredients. I asked myself, "What is wrong with this that it is so difficult to follow." One thing is the use of the ambiguous term "pan." Strictly speaking, I know that "pan" can refer to a broad range of cooking vessels although I tend to think, particularly of a skillet, as in "frying pan," which I believe was what was used for the initial cooking of the legs. But Michael does not select the most explicit terms as he speaks back and forth about the legs that are cooking in the skillet in the oven and the onion and bacon that are cooking in a dutch oven on the stovetop. Nor is he at all clear about the stovetop (where the onions and bacon are) versus the oven (where the legs are). At one point he abruptly says to add the legs to the onions and bacon, etc. It lacks clarity and continuity. He should have said something like, "After the legs have finished their twenty minutes in the oven, remove them from the skillet and add them to the pot on the stovetop with the onions and bacon." Not that all of this can't be sorted out, but the reader should not have to work at sorting it out.

There is a two-star review making much of the fact that Michael -- in his considerable discussion of water as an ingredient -- failed to mention that it does ~not~ always boil at 212F, depending on altitude/pressure. The criticism from a reviewer on this point seemed to irk Michael, who added several posts of his own. I think the writing was careless. You'd expect that most people would know the 9th grade science facts about water, but if you are making a point to cover that ground in some detail and how it relates to cooking, then you need to cover it clearly and accurately. Michael later on in the lengthy back and forth conceded that he should have mentioned pressure cookers, in which water boils at a much higher temperature. This is not trivial if you are writing about water and cooking and offering a primer on the science of it and repeatedly referring to its boiling point, etc.

So maybe Michael belongs more to the creative side of cooking than the scientific side, but he has written a book at the Alton Brown level...grounded in the science. Actually, I thought the discussion of the molecular forces was a little loose, too. He may have been entirely correct in that area, but he was just mumbling a little jargon to my ear. I was conscious reading it that I was not gaining any solid understanding about the molecular behavior that would help me think about cooking. Admittedly, it may be hard to draw the line...it's not a physics book. IMO, it is better to say less than to speak vaguely or breezily, giving only the impression of presenting something useful.

So I won't rely on Michael for kitchen physics; I'll have to see if his recipes work when I sort them out. Mainly though, he may be invaluable in redirecting our attitudes about the fundamentals of cooking.