The Art of French Baking

The Art of French Baking

by Ginette Mathiot (Phaidon Press, 368 pp., $45)

I'm the child of a woman who makes a delicious Tex-Mex dish she calls Rabbit Hutch Surprise. Others balk at the questionable-looking casserole, but my mom taught me it's not always about how something looks, as long as it tastes good.

This is, without a doubt, a gorgeous book. Its modern design is eye-catching and well-executed, from the ever-so-slightly desaturated photography and playful illustrations to the sleek fonts and ample white space. There are also some helpful practical touches, including the dual built-in bookmarks, a vinyl cover, and heavy pages that seem perfectly suited to the gauntlet the book will inevitably be subjected to in a kitchen.

"Modern," though, is often a synonym for "sparse." And French cooking has a (deserved) reputation, aside from being full of butter: It's complicated. While the design of The Art of French Baking is appealing and functional in its own way, it doesn't make for a good or thorough guide for most home bakers. The Last-Minute Brioche turned out reasonably well, but I had several doubts and questions throughout the process that I just couldn't find any answers to in the book. The recipe for meringues is only three sentences long; one can't help but wonder if a few steps were either edited out (by Clotilde Dusoulier) or literally lost in translation (by Annabel van Nieuwkerk). Basic­ally, I just wanted it to taste as good as it looks.

That said, this could be an ideal companion volume to a book of techniques or in the cookbook arsenal of a more experienced pastry chef just looking for a few new recipes. As it stands, though, it's just a little too much art and not quite enough French baking.