[ all art in this post by dinah diwan, from “the ethnic paris cookbook” by charlotte puckette and olivia kiang-snaije ]

a couple of weeks ago, the fedex man showed up at the door with a package for me. it was a copy of “the ethnic paris cookbook“, from the good people at dorling kindersley. i was surprised, and pleased, because it had only been a week or so since i replied to a mass-emailed offer of a copy to review. who doesn’t like DK? with their range of educational books, illustrated with copious deepetched photographs? a favourite pastime was flipping through any of the DK travel guides until i got to that double-page spread in the food section, showcasing a deepetched array of that country’s national cuisine. mmm… spatzle…

“the ethnic paris cookbook” is certainly lavishly illustrated, but with actual drawings. [who doesn’t like an illustrated food blog? maybe one day i could become one, but for now of course, you can go to lobstersquad.] the slightly naive (deceptively so), very charming, incredibly detailed artwork by dinah diwan distinguishes the book from the rest of the pack: ink drawings painted vibrant colours, collage, and rubber stampage run the gamut from raw ingredients, to instructional diagrams, to finished product, to paris streetmaps and shopfronts.

there’s a lot packed in. the book purports to “focus on the ethnic influences on paris’s haute cuisine”, and brings together recipes from a diverse range of cultures, grouped into: morocco, tunisia and algeria; vietnam, cambodia, laos and china; japan; lebanon and syria; cameroon, senegal, the west indies and the caribbean. phew. but how does this make it a paris-centric book, and not just one that represents any city with an enormous migrant population, like, um, sydney? here, we can easily (from the city, at least) catch a train and within not too long a time (fingers crossed), experience any one — and quite a few more — of the cuisines listed. maybe even some of our best friends are…

well, for one, thailand doesn’t feature (though there is a recipe for green papaya salad), but see, aside from recipes (over 100 apps, mains and desserts) and mini-essays on key ingredients, the authors have included reviews (and addresses) of the parisian restaurants (and pastry shops and providores.) which examplify these disparate cuisines, as well as stories of the individuals to whom recipes have been attributed. there are brief histories of the various ethnic communities within the city — the chinese in france, for example — and overviews of today’s streetscapes. in a small section titled, “japanese grocery stores in paris”, they list three, and then go on to say that “because these grocery stores are quite expensive… many japanese now shop at korean grocers in the opera neighbourhood or in the japanese section of chinatown supermarkets”. truly, insider information.

and so, why a whole chapter devoted to japonisme? i think the answer would have to be the maccha macaron. japan and france, food, fashion and art, they have this thing going, non? in fact, there is no recipe for green tea macaron in the book. there is, instead, a recipe for black sesame macaron, and given my brief, confusing history of macaron-making, i shall be giving it a miss. however, after i procure a madeleine tray this weekend, i will give the green tea madeleines a go. watch this space.

also tucked away in the japanese dessert section, a sweet little tribute to chocolate and zucchini.

i really do like the japan chapter, mainly because i’m that way inclined, but there is more from the book that i would try: beet salad with harissa (tunisia), banh xeo, finally (vietnam) — there’s also a recipe for banh mi, but holy moley, have you seen santos’ lobster banh mi? she wins!, beef and okra stew (cameroon), grilled chicken with garlic sauce (lebanon)… or actually, maybe, just maybe the tabbouleh sorbet.

[ it looks like “the ethnic paris cookbook” is only published by DKUS for now, but of course, is available all over the internet. ]