Culture of the Fork: A Brief History of Everyday Food in Europe ANNOTATION
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FROM THE PUBLISHER
Discoveries, travels, conquests, and expansions during the Renaissance introduced Europeans to exotic cultures, mores, manners, and ideas. The cross-fertilization between the Old and the New Worlds, the East and the West brought new foods, preparations, and flavors. That culinary revolution led to the development of new utensils and table manners, initiating a way of eating that differed radically from medieval traditions. Some of the impact is still felt - and tasted - today.
SYNOPSIS
Consisting of small tidbits rather than a heavy repast, Rebora (economic history, U. of Genoa, Italy) surveys the history of food in Europe (with a strong focus on Italy) during the medieval and early modern period. The short chapters give an accurate, albeit abbreviated idea of the sources and preparation of numerous ingredients on the European table, including wine, grain, fish, stuffed pasta, water, salt, soup, polenta, fat, and spices. Chapters are also included on the effects on the table of the exploitation of the New World. Annotation c. Book News, Inc., Portland, OR (booknews.com)
FROM THE CRITICS
Publishers Weekly
In 1492, Columbus knew nothing of ragout. But perhaps he did enjoy the occasional sliced eel or roasted partridge, according to Rebora's investigation of food habits in Europe, from about 1400 to 1700. A professor of economic history at the University of Genoa, Rebora takes a scholarly approach and a learned tone in considering the impact of peasantry, population booms and modes of transport on the evolution of meals, drinks and, of course, spices. His is a quirky effort, though: no particular topic is treated in any great depth, resulting more in a pocket guide through the fourth dimension than a cultural treatise. This will be a disappointment to those who feel they haven't learned enough about the history of olive oil in four pages. Still, for those seeking the perfect dinner party conversation topic, the book is a godsend. Divided into 18 chapters, each on a different food type ("Stuffed Pasta") or trade passage ("The Sugar Route"), it offers countless delicious factual tidbits. The fork first appeared in Europe during the Middle Ages as a "single-pronged wooden utensil" used for eating lasagna, for instance, while 15th-century France had no plates diners used mensa, rounded disks of bread. Sonnenfeld offers a workmanlike translation despite the difficulties of, say, 60 different Italian words for various types of sausage. Etchings and woodcuts of ancient cheese graters and soup spoons, frying pans and coffee pots enliven the text, and a thorough bibliography refers readers to such Italian works as The Pleasures of Gluttony and Primitive Bread. (Nov.) Copyright 2001 Cahners Business Information.
Kirkus Reviews
A lively stroll through (mostly southern) European culinary history. Eskimo languages have 50 words for snow, suggesting an important feature of the cultural and physical landscape. In the same spirit, there are "sixty specifically named Italian words for pork or beef sausage," to say nothing of the countless ways of naming noodles. Rebora (Economics/Univ. of Genoa) has a fine time touring through the Italian kitchen, pausing here to offer recipes like the kind Christopher Columbus might have enjoyed as a young man (panned partridge from France, lamprey from Portugal, marzipan from the Baltic), there to ponder the history of the fork (which, he tells us, was invented in Byzantium and introduced in the 14th century in Italy, where some clerics viewed it as a "shocking overrefinement"), and there to tease out the origins of local culinary traditions (French settlers brought couscous to Puglia, where it eventually mutated into orecchiette, the ear-shaped pasta associated with that far-southern Italian region). All this is far from the usual whirlwind tour of food history found in the frontmatter of many cookbooks, for Rebora packs his text with learned asides on the biochemical and cultural bases for lactose intolerance, with the transmission from one region to another of methods for curing and treating meat (which led to all those Italian sausages, to Serrano ham, to Turkish pasterme, to German wᄑrstel, and on and on), and other arcane data. He argues that the image of the European Middle Ages as a time of endemic hunger is wrong: "I believe," he writes, "that the people mostly had at their disposal adequate food, produce, and goods"-if nothing like the astounding choice that accompaniedthe exploration of the Americas and Asia. Nicely balancing recent encyclopedic treatments such as the Cambridge World History of Food, Rebora's slender volume should be of interest to foodies, cookbook collectors, and historians alike.