Why Do So Many Cookbooks Have Similar Recipe Lists?
A plea for bolder tables of contents.
Howdy cookbook fans!
How’s it going? Literally nothing new to report here and I know you’re all sick of me complaining about the heat, so I will just introduce today’s piece!
is here to talk about a trend she’s noticed amongst bestselling “general” cookbooks: a lot of them feature the same dishes over and over again, with only the slightest of tweaks to differentiate them from each other. While there are some easy answers for why (publishing still heavily favors white authors, for a start)(publishing is afraid of its own shadow bc capitalism, for another), she also has some ideas for how to fix it. Namely, voting with your dollars. Buy the cookbooks you want to see in the world!And leave your favorite home bistro dishes in the comments. But be nice, we’re not here to destroy anyone’s favorite foods (or cookbook authors).
Laura, take it away!
Beyond the ‘Home Bistro’ Cookbook: A Plea for Bolder Recipe Lists
Cookbook readers can and should use their buying power to influence what types of cookbooks get published.
—By
I wouldn’t call myself a hoarder. I’ll just tell you that my cookbook collection long-ago outgrew the shelves in my kitchen. And often, when I’m bored of my usual recipe go-tos, I’ll flip through the stacks for inspiration.
Let’s start with a few recipes that have stopped me in my tracks recently. They’re from books that showcase themes I love—big flavors, accessible techniques, and impressive resulting dishes—with fresh, new dishes popping up throughout. Exhibit A: Abi Balingit’s Mayumu: Filipino American Desserts Remixed. Her Adobo Chocolate Chip Cookies don’t just toss a fun, unexpected ingredient into a traditional American cookie base; she incorporates new techniques, methods, and flavors in a familiar format to create something that stuns. I was taken aback. Infusing browned butter with bay leaves? Replacing salt with soy sauce? It’s a revelation.
Exhibit B: Abra Berens’ latest epic, Pulp: A Practical Guide to Cooking with Fruit, which includes hundreds of unexpected ways to use fresh fruit in your savory cooking. Ginger-Plum-Glazed Ribs with Rye Spaetzle and Greens? I just transformed into the star-eyes emoji imagining the flavor of that glaze and the challenge of making rye spaetzle. Her recipe for Pan-Roasted Parsnips with Grape Sauce and Pecans awakened a new part of me that wants to embrace grapes as a component of every savory dish I’m cooking this summer.
Exhibit C: Andy Baraghani’s beautiful The Cook You Want to Be: Everyday Recipes to Impress. As a voracious fennel lover, finding not one but two new recipes that celebrate the next thing I’m going to tattoo on my body was reason enough to drop everything and run into the kitchen. His Fennel Buried in Cream and Fennel Salad with Spicy Green Olives and Crushed Pistachios are my kind of dishes. And here’s the thing: they shine even as the book showcases its more exciting material alongside Baraghani’s versions of traditional favorites (yes, roasted chicken is on the menu).
So a few weeks ago, I hit the shelves looking for more inspiration. Instead, I started to feel like I was reading the cookbook version of Groundhog Day: similar recipes, over and over again.
Here are recipes from a few cookbooks that I own which also happen to be recent-ish New York Times best sellers (with their titles redacted so as to not be a complete asshole):
Unnamed Book One: Spaghetti with Clams, Skirt Steak with Potatoes, and Charred Broccolini.
Unnamed Book Two: Linguine with Clams, Skirt Steak with Chimichurri, and Blistered Broccolini.
Unnamed Book Three: Linguine with Shellfish (Clams), Skirt Steak with Chilies, and (you guessed it) more Broccolini.
And it’s not just those three recipes. It’s almost as if there’s a cool kids cookbook club, and to get in it your book must include your own version of slow-baked salmon, basic tomato sauce, seared scallops with [insert cute veg accompaniment here], wedge salads, spatchcocked chicken, roasted lamb shoulder, and chocolate chip cookies.
Once I started noticing these kinds of recipes, I couldn’t stop. And as I flipped through more cookbooks at home and then later on library shelves, a pattern emerged: similar recipe lists winding together to create a genre of cookbook that I’ve started to call “home bistro books.” The food itself is usually European-influenced, Americanized food, occasionally studded with on-trend ingredients—an unfussy, home-cooked answer to the same type of food that fills menus in trendy, “modern bistro” restaurants across the country. These menus, packed with sure-bet favorites (and, indeed, some of my favorites!), are so similar that you can practically guess at what they’re serving: dishes like Little Gem lettuce salad, pan-roasted halibut, and dressed-up burrata. Rocked by the pandemic, these reliable favorites can be restaurants’ key to financial stability, audience loyalty, and staying power. But one thing’s for sure: these menus all feel the same.
Similar to dishes that we see repeated on these trendy dinner menus, recipes that have appeared in countless cookbooks are a sure bet with consumers. Maybe you’re not being challenged to improve or grow with yet another chocolate chip cookie recipe, but you’re still going to end up with a bunch of delicious cookies at the end of the day. That’s a win for a large percentage of cookbook readers, and when they see a book that feels like a win, they’ll put their money where their mouth is. Capitalism is a self-fulfilling prophecy: a same-same-but-different recipe is published, the book sells, more similar books are created, and so on.
These recipes feel familiar and well-loved, versatile and often accessible for even novice cooks. And while I’ll be the first to admit that I have a type when it comes to cookbooks—easy-to-execute, elegant dishes that present well on the plate—these repeated recipes feel like more than a coincidental statement on my personal preferences.
Listen: Alison Roman changed my life by teaching me to add anchovies to my tomato sauce. You know what didn’t change my life? The tomato sauce recipe that calls for heirloom tomatoes and basil leaves in another cookbook nearby. Or the one in another book one shelf up that calls for crushed tomatoes, oregano, and basil leaves. Or another one that calls for San Marzanos, basil leaves, and garlic. These are not recipes from writers lacking creativity or kitchen know-how. On the contrary, these are some of the writers and recipe developers I admire most.
But. (You knew there was going to be a but!) Isn’t it kind of boring? Apart from a trending towards Euro-centric classics and American comfort foods, why are all of these talented writers on a quest to keep tweaking the same classic dishes that have already been published time and time again? Why couldn’t these books skip those recipes and let the more original recipes in their cookbooks shine through? Authors of what are typically referred to as “general” cookbooks—Jamie Oliver to Joanna Gaines to the host of your favorite cooking competition show to the winner of your favorite cooking competition show—add slight tweaks and on-brand additions to familiar favorites. Is this really the best way to get home cooks excited about getting into the kitchen?
There’s hope on the horizon. In recent years, the cookbook publishing industry has exploded with titles exploring global cuisines and ingredients within the framework of the classic what-the-heck-do-I-make-for-dinner cookbook. As a result, there are books being published with tables of contents that are far more exciting than in previous generations. Seeing writers like Frankie Gaw, Priya Krishna, Esteban Castillo, and Eric Kim offer their own versions of this genre of cookbook, imbued with the flavors of their respective cultural heritages alongside experiences of growing up in the US, is just the beginning of the realm of possibilities.
Another way to look at these home bistro recipes is to put them to work in ways that do, in fact, expand the skills of home cooks. Samin Nosrat, who used well-loved recipes as tools to teach lessons about kitchen techniques in Salt, Fat Acid, Heat: Mastering the Elements of Good Cooking, offers another way to stand out. The book has a recipe for roast chicken yes, but her buttermilk brine for it practically broke the internet by teaching home cooks about the power of buttermilk’s acid to tenderize meat. In both of Carla Lalli Music's books, Where Cooking Begins and That Sounds So Good, she focuses on the riff-able qualities of her recipes to fit readers' pantries. This feels refreshing, too.
As readers, these are the kinds of projects we need to be supporting, buying, and calling for more from publishers. We need to prove that we’ll buy books filled with challenging recipes, exciting flavors, and radical twists on all kinds of recipes. The magic of cookbooks happens when I’m in the kitchen and poring over a recipe, stopping time and time again to read the instructions and double-check what I’m doing. I consider myself a fairly capable cook; I always tell people that’s why I have trouble following recipes to a tee. It’s because I’ve made the same damn thing so many times! I can recite for you how to make a chocolate chip cookie or a spatchcocked, roasted chicken. You know what I can’t do? Talk you through how to filet a whole fish. Advise you on spice mixes that go well on grilled octopus. Cook okra to save my life.
These days, my cookbook collection being what it is (okay, maybe I am a hoarder), I look for the books that surprise me. Make me think bigger, expand my palate. That’s why I’m buying the book, after all. These writers are the experts—I’m just a snobby home cook with the purchasing power to prove my appetite for something fresh. Fellow cookbook nerds, this is your moment. Next time you’re in the store, look past the “home bistro” books and find something different. Post about it on social media. Buy another copy for your mom. All of a sudden, things might start tasting a little bit less boring.
I completely agree with this article and sentiment! Being a cookbook collector (hoarder), I have often fallen for the trap of a highly-marketed new cookbook that has the same recipes as the next highly-marketed new cookbook. I've taken to always looking at the index of cookbooks on Eat Your Books first so that I can guarantee it's worth the money and non-existent space in my dining room. The books that have excited me the most lately are Mezcla, More Fish More Veg, and Italian American.
I might be a little bit of a contrarian here...yes, I would love bolder, more interesting recipe lists. I would. But..the recipes that take off and that people love are often these twists on familiar dishes.
For example, Susan Spungen wrote a beautiful book of vegetable recipes in Veg Forward. The dish I'm seeing people make the most is the Carbonara with Sungold Tomatoes. It's lovely but also simple/familiar with a twist.
The author of the piece mentions that Allison Roman changed her life by teaching her to put anchovies in tomato sauce. But it's not like Allison Roman was not the first person to put anchovies in tomato sauce.
The other versions of tomato sauce did not change your life but maybe they did that for someone else?
It's funny, when I teach cooking classes, sometimes I'll mention a little technique that I think is so simple and basic. One you assume everyone knows by now. And you'll see someone's eyes open up, like, "Oh! A revelation!"
For me, the biggest "rule" when writing a cookbook is to know your audience. If your audience is coming to you for twists on basics, well, that's likely what your book will be.
I do agree that if we want books filled with different types of recipes, we need to buy them and support them.