“Once upon a time there was a musician who complained that half the notes he wanted to play were not on the piano. They lay, he claimed, between the keys where he could never get at them. Accordingly, he took up fiddling, which has no such limitations, and lived happily ever after. This is a book on cooking; but like the musician, it concentrates more on the cracks and interstices of the culinary keyboard than on the conventional notes themselves. It, too, involves considerable fiddling around….”
- Robert Capon, The Supper of The Lamb, 1969
There are hundreds of thousands of cookbooks out there. I know cookbook collectors who themselves have thousands of cookbooks. Not really to cook with, but to collect, look at, enjoy as objects rather than working tools. I even knew a woman who had a major quarrel with her husband when buying a new house because the pantry was not big enough to convert into a cookbook room.
I, too, enjoy having nice old cookbooks around. But I like to use them, and if it is not helpful and functional in addition to being a nice book I really don’t need it on my shelf. It is also fun if it is well written or creatively laid-out, as it is nice to have a good time reading as you cook.

Hence the quote from Elsie Masterton in this post’s title. She is the much acclaimed author of the three (that I know of) Blueberry Hill Cookbooks
, The Blueberry Hill Cookbook
, The Blueberry Hill Menu Cookbook
, and Blueberry Hill Kitchen Notebook
.
(The Blueberry Hill Inn in Vermont is still in operation, although long since under new management and ownership.)
Masterton’s books are not as well known today as they should be (based on the sample of people I have spoken to about them). They are still well remembered and used by those who grew up with them, though, and they have enjoyed reprints over the years. I use them for a core of especially good recipes, mostly sweets such as her pancakes, shortcake and buckle. In fact, I almost refuse to make any of these three things if not by her recipes.
But while entertaining to read, her abrupt and abrasive asides can cause one to cringe. (or, to take ownership of that passive sentence, it can cause me to cringe). The crushing quote is from her strawberry shortcake recipe, on p. 144 of The Bluebery Hill Menu Cookbook (3rd printing, 1964). She also interjects directives into her recipes such as “Do as I say, now” or something similar. Most people to whom I show these pages will chuckle, and a few will say “good golly” (and some will not really be interested). Still, incorrectness aside, it is entertaining, and make the book more fun to have around.

Capon’s The Supper of the Lamb...A Culinary Reflection
is written with many more deliberate and lengthy asides, all of which make the book worth reading even if you aren’t cooking today. Chapter seven begins:
Meanwhile, back at the stove…
You no doubt feel that it is high time for a speedy return to the pot of lamb stew that was left simmering at the end of Chapter Three. If I assess your mood correctly, you judge that the intervening chapters, with their excursions into meat, metaphysics, and metalware respectively, should have been more than enough to allay the author’s apparently morbid dread of proceeding too hastily through a recipe. After all, you say, what we have in hand here is a very minor stew indeed. Why will he simply not thicken the gravy as he pleases, and get on with it?”
Other examples abound. Vegetariana
by Nava Atlas, for instance (revised and reprinted in the late 1990’s) was a lot of fun back in the seventies or eighties or whenever it first came out. It still is, with its little sidebars and drawings. I don’t use it as much as other good vegetarian cookbooks, but it is certainly fun to look at as you are deciding what to shop for this week. I enjoy hearing about others.
