Nonfiction Reviews: Week of 9/17/2007

The grandiose life of Richard Wagner—the pronouncements on art and the German soul, the petty groveling for money and favors, the intermittently atrocious politics and intermittently glorious music—was a tough act to follow. Carr (Mahler: A Biography) follows Wagner's descendants through three generations as they fight each other for control of the Bayreuth Festival and, at opportune times, embrace, reject or sweep under the rug their forebear's status as Nazism's spiritual godfather. (It's a bum rap, Carr concludes, after a nuanced analysis of Wagner's writings and music that finds his anti-Semitism vile but muddled and probably not eliminationist.) Much of the story belongs to outsiders who married into the family: Wagner's wife, Cosima, a “chillingly implacable” anti-Semite; his son-in-law Houston Chamberlain, a racist ideologue revered by the Nazis; and his daughter-in-law Winifred, who clasped Hitler—affectionately dubbed “Uncle Wolf” by her children—to the family's bosom. Carr's sprightly, fluent narrative places the family in its historical and intellectual context without reducing it to the symbolic effigy it has often become. Photos. (Jan.)

On making Sunée's acquaintance in the introduction to this charming memoir, it's hard not to envy the young woman swimming laps in the pool overlooking the orchard of her petit ami's vast compound in the High Alps of Provence, but below the surface of this portrait is a turbulent quest for identity. Abandoned at age three in a Korean marketplace, Sunée is adopted by an American couple who raise her in New Orleans. In the 1990s she settles, after a fashion, in France with Olivier Baussan, a multimillionaire of epicurean tastes and—at least in her depiction—controlling disposition. She struggles to create a home for herself in the kitchen, cooking gargantuan meals for their large circle of friends, until her restive nature and Baussan's impatience with her literary ambitions compel her to move on. The gutsy Cajun and ethereal French recipes that serve as chapter codas are matched by engaging storytelling. Alas, for all Sunée's preoccupation with the geography of home, her insights on the topic are disappointingly slight, and the facile wrapup offered in the form of resolution seems a shortcut in a book that traverses so much rocky terrain. (Jan.)

This cornucopia of previously published pieces by James Beard Award–winning food writer Thorne, from his newsletter, “Simple Cooking,” along with a few from other publications, showcases his relaxed, unfussy attitude, refreshing in this age of cookbook and food-personality overabundance. That casualness comes through on subjects from bagna cauda to pepper pot. It's all foodstuff to him, and his affection for foods of all kinds is boundless. Some of the most intriguing suggestions, reprinted from a regular feature of the newsletter, reflect an awareness that the avocado-green electric range is as legitimate as the Viking. Thorne likes to delve into the source and cultural history of individual dishes, and many spur-of-the-moment concoctions, whose recipes are given, were prepared out of a sense of what-the-heck invention and appetite. He fervently promotes his belief that in every foodie lurks a cook capable of doing wonders with prepared foods, that the opposite also holds, and that the ultimate authority on food is the person eating. (Dec.)

Pearson, who stars in HBO's The Wire, was born ill and underweight from her mother's drug habits, and later worked for a crack dealer in East Baltimore. At age 15 she killed a woman in self-defense and wound up in the Jessup State Penitentiary. She got a wakeup call when the notorious dealers she called “Uncle” and “Father” wound up respectively dead and imprisoned for life. Once out on parole, Pearson took an assembly-line job and “didn't give [her neighborhood dope dealers] a second glance,” but after repeatedly getting fired because of her rap sheet, she returned to dealing before a chance meeting gave her a way off the street for good. This isn't a light celebrity bio, but a powerful story of someone trying to find her way in a dark world, realizing she can still choose her life's direction even in tremendously difficult circumstances. Pearson's narrative is spare, even poetic, rendering traumatic moments all the more powerful. (Nov.)

This artful and entertaining collection of essays by novelist Self (The Book of Dave) will delight anyone who enjoys his weekly column of the same name in the Independent or his last collection of essays, Feeding Frenzy. Here Self shifts from gonzo journalism to the study of psychogeography, the study of how geographical environments affect emotions and behavior. Setting off on a quest for the “intrinsic character” of various places as well as “the manner in which the contemporary world warps the relationship between psyche and place,” Self casts a dismissive eye on most of the world. Singapore strikes him “as Basingstoke force-fed with pituitary gland”; Sao Paolo's lack of a street plan makes it “an unholy miscegenation between London and Los Angeles.” But Steadman's beautifully harsh illustrations (worthy of their own book) and “Walking to New York,” a previously unpublished semi-autobiographical meditation on life and death, reveal a surprising depth to Self's cynical insights. (Nov.)

Baby boomer Jacobson builds a compelling and intimate memoir of larger-than-life characters and artfully presented daily minutiae, but the details of family vacations, secret pastry binges and car accidents are left unanchored by present-day analysis of their significance. The essays are hypnotic, although mystifying at times. Jacobson's substantive reflection never quite equals her skill for evocative description, which shines on almost every page, or allows details to transcend their illustrative function and convey the story behind the experiences. Without a driving viewpoint, the sections blur together. Overall, there's no plot, transformation or sense of cohesion, partly due to a lack of emotional range; scenes of gardening, Kennedy's death, rape and eating a hamburger are rendered with a similar tone. More utilitarian prose is needed for these tableaux to carry emotional weight, although they do form a tender and honest suburban slideshow of a complex era. (Nov.)

Jack-of-all-trades Borchert shares wholesome, guardedly witty dispatches from the suburban L.A. library system in this charming tell-all. For 12 years the family-man author has held the post of assistant librarian, keeping a wary eye on unruly kids, mollifying mystified parents and repairing sadly manhandled materials. Borchert relays a conversation with an aged librarian who reveals how it was in the good old days (staff lunches used to be served with wine), then contrasts that account with modern-day multicultural crayons and the preponderance of latchkey kids abandoned in the library for long, numbing afternoons. A few of the regular patrons are inspiring Renaissance types, but most are unsettling and unsavory, such as intensely reclusive crossword-puzzler Henry hounding the reference desk; loser Max looking futilely on the Internet for a South American wife; or the drug dealers working the restroom. From patrons who rack up hundreds of dollars in fines to missing pet rats and fist-fighting mothers, Borchert has seen it all, and his account gives a human interest spin to this undervalued profession. (Nov.)

Evans's lively book seeks, first, to demonstrate that Communists worked, often successfully, to undermine American security during the Cold War. It tries, second, to defend Sen. Joseph McCarthy, the egregious scourge of American Communists and fellow travelers, against those who, in Evans's (The Theme Is Freedom) view, have unjustly ruined his reputation. On the first point, save for some new details, Evans, a contributing editor to Human Events, treads worn ground. Most scholars, having also used Soviet archives, concede his position and argue now only over secondary matters, like the guilt of Alger Hiss. On the second point, Evans has a tougher case, which he seeks to make as a defense attorney would: by conceding nothing to McCarthy's detractors. Evans is also given to conspiracy thinking—an approach that, by its nature, yields claims that can neither be confirmed nor falsified. Defense attorneys and debaters like Evans follow different rules than historians—they try to score points, not to advance knowledge. Evans is good at the former, his propulsive style carrying much of the argument's burden. But the history Evans relates is already largely known, if not fully accepted.. 20 illus. (Nov. 6)

Former Christian Science Monitor journalist Waugh is the author of six books on the Civil War, including Re-electing Lincoln, perhaps the most accessible and complete volume on the pivotal presidential election of 1864. In his latest book, Waugh employs the same combination of lively prose backed with solid research to examine Lincoln's life story from birth to his first presidential inauguration, rarely straying from the themes of the future of the Union, impending Civil War and, more importantly, slavery. Waugh covers the events in Lincoln's pre-April 1861 life, making liberal use of Lincoln's own words, primarily from letters and speeches, and the reminiscences of one of Lincoln's closest friends and associates, his former law partner William Herndon. Waugh shows that although Lincoln embraced white supremacy and opposed interracial marriage and black suffrage during his early years as an Illinois state legislator, he managed to separate those views from his strong opposition to the institution of slavery. “If slavery is not wrong, nothing is wrong,” Lincoln later said. “I can not remember when I did not so think, and feel.” Waugh is particular adept at weaving details of Lincoln's family life into the narrative, which focuses on decidedly political matters, including the 1858 Lincoln-Douglas debates and the 1860 presidential election campaign. (Nov.)

The Royal Welch Fusiliers, who became the most celebrated British corps in “the battle for America” and served from the initial skirmish at Lexington in 1775 through the surrender at Yorktown in 1781, provide “a narrative that mirrors the wider story,” according to Urban (Wellington's Rifles). Drawing on letters and diaries, Urban paints an often grim but ultimately heroic picture of the life of the ordinary soldier fighting an unpopular war in a hostile environment. The Royal Welch Fusiliers—few of whom were Welsh—surrendered at Yorktown as “a sadly depleted party” of a few dozen men, but they and their leaders had learned important tactical lessons in fighting the Americans, especially the necessity of “rapid manoeuvre.” Former Fusilier officers like Harry Calvert would use “the bitter lessons of America to educate an army that one day would defeat Napoleon.” Urban, diplomatic editor of BBC's Newsnight, offers “a British-army-centered version,” but is admirably evenhanded in his analysis and conclusions. Readers interested in military history will appreciate this insightful and sobering perspective on soldiering in the 18th century. (Nov.)

Similar to last year's What Israel Means to Me, this collection of short essays edited by Salkin (Being God's Partner) unabashedly puts American Zionism on display, as contributors describe their personal connection to Israel. The section heads reflect the roles Israel has always played for diaspora Jews: a part of their Jewish identity, a refuge from oppression and a religious center. The authors range from the usual suspects like the Anti-Defamation League's Abraham Foxman and politician Henry Waxman to historian Jonathan Sarna and Rebbetzin Esther Jungreis, along with rabbis and prominent deceased Jewish-Americans like Supreme Court justices Louis Brandeis and Felix Frankfurter. The essays express a variety of feelings about Israel. Some, like theologian Arthur Green, feel discomfort with the occupation of the West Bank: “Without a two-state solution, I believe, Israel is impossible, and will not survive.” Not surprisingly, most express sentiments closer to those of Jewish scholar Lisa Grant: “My experiences of and in Israel touch me in profound ways—emotionally, intellectually, socially, and spiritually.” This collection will mainly appeal to readers who feel similarly attached. (Nov.)

In this appraisal of America's woes, conservative TV and talk-radio host Beck (The Real America) lays lighthearted siege to everything that makes the world worse. “[P]olitical correctness is the biggest threat this nation faces today,” he declares, as it makes us prey for Islamic fundamentalists, renders taboo the roots of our economic troubles (poor people are, in fact, lazy, he argues) and creates rampant distortion in the media. Beck goes paragraph for paragraph with global-warming alarmist Al Gore, merrily slaughtering the sacred cows of the environmentalist crowd. Not sated by the hide of the former vice president, he goes after everything and everyone from poverty to “perverts,” offering solutions to these and other problems (e.g., “the key to success in the capitalist system is to believe in it”). While often informative, as in his chapter on global warming, Beck is sometimes tedious, particularly when dealing with Islam and education (“France is literally teetering on the edge, and our biggest ally, England, is about to be turned inside out as well”). He's at his best when most absurd, and funniest when he's his own target (the father of four is “little more than a flesh-and-bone jungle gym”). This should make a good read for conservatives. (Nov.)

Efforts to cleanse the world's air and water and to put a brake on calamitous climate change aren't exclusive to “one political philosophy,” Gingrich and Maple argue in this probusiness call for proenvironment action by politicians, corporations and individual Americans. Though the title echoes Gingrich's hard-right 1994 Contract with America, this more conciliatory contract reflects the former academic's penchant for bullet-point sloganeering, with its “ten commitments” call for politicians to abandon adversarial politics and for businessmen and conservationists to form “compatible partnerships.” The authors alternately brand their approach mainstream and entrepreneurial environmentalism—mainstream because it rejects alarmist projections based on what they perceive as activist science and hysterical journalism, and entrepreneurial because they reject the notion that free enterprise and a cleaner world are opposing forces. The authors' concern about the future of the Earth is certainly sincere, but their prescription for action breaks shallow ground. (Nov.)

To free the U.S. of fossil fuel dependency while boosting the economy, we need the kind of visionary leadership that led to the Apollo moon landings in 1969, according to Inslee and Hendricks in this energetic articulation of a clean-energy future. That vision is sadly lacking under the current administration, reports Washington State Congressman Inslee in several caustic sidebars about his contentious energy discussions with President Bush and Vice-President Cheney. His first-person anecdotes lighten this otherwise earnest book, based on initiatives of the Apollo Alliance, an advocacy group and think tank uniting unions, environmental groups and business organizations committed to fostering a “green economy.” Redesigning the car, investing in solar power, mining wind for power, exploring the nascent technology of “wave energy,” using energy more efficiently and working clean coal and safe nuclear power into the equation are among the authors' prescriptions. Inslee is primary congressional sponsor of the New Apollo Energy Act and on the Apollo Alliance advisory board; coauthor Hendricks is a member of the alliance's steering committee. A brief foreword by Bill Clinton waxes enthusiastic about the synergy between the book, the alliance and the proposed legislation. (Nov. 2)

In the first years of the 20th century, a mysterious blight began to infect the majestic American chestnut trees of the east. Thirty years later, as many as four billion had been felled by a virulent scourge from Asia, sweeping like a relentless wildfire through forests from Maine to Georgia. Freinkel's enthralling synthesis of science and sentiment chronicles the devastating impact of the chestnut tree's precipitous disappearance on generations of hardscrabble Appalachian homesteaders, who lost a “flavorful nugget of nutrition” that got their families through bitter winters, and on flummoxed but determined botanists, who battled with politicians in the early 1900s about the best way to halt the blight's inexorable advance. As the presence of towering stands of “the perfect tree” faded into melancholic memory, she shows that resolute citizens and scientists have set out, with almost religious fervor, to resurrect the dead—with signs of success. Detailed explanations of the science of crossbreeding, “hypovirulence” (fighting disease by “infecting the infection”) and genetic engineering often make for heavy if informative slogging. But time after time, this impassioned book strikes resonant emotional chords that transform dry facts into dynamic prose. (Nov.)

In a world filled with road rage and selfishness, is it possible to be kind? Einhorn (A Concealed God), chair of the department of oncology-pathology at the Karolinska Institute in Sweden, believes that practicing kindness is an art whose skills we can develop in order to succeed and feel good about ourselves. In a vague and simplistic way, Einhorn defines true kindness as “a desire to do good and to put this desire into practice,” but Einhorn never defines what “good” is. According to Einhorn, certain counterforces—lack of reflection, lack of empathy, not wanting to get involved —work against our attempts to be kind. But if we can learn that being kind benefits not only others but also ourselves—because what we do for others comes back to us—then we can overcome those forces and succeed in our quest to be kind. Einhorn's conviction—based on his own experience—that the good we do always comes back to us ignores the contrasting belief that no good deed goes unpunished. The expectation of good returned may not be the soundest foundation for kindness. (Nov.)

Forget the old boys' club: women are the ones holding themselves back from top-level career success, advises Shambaugh, president and CEO of consulting firm Shambaugh Leadership. Though more businesswomen are in successful positions of power, they are still lagging behind men at the highest levels: more than a third of Fortune 500 managers and more than half of those with multidisciplinary master's degrees are women, yet women hold only 13% of Fortune 500 CEO positions. This lack of forward motion is due more substantially to women's own career-inhibiting behavior than to cultural impediments, Shambaugh claims. Women are more likely than men to shy away from leadership roles, to get bogged down in perfectionism and to avoid career-boosting changes out of a misplaced sense of loyalty. Through a series of exercises and self-appraisals, Shambaugh guides readers with executive suite aspirations through an evaluation of their own behaviors and skills, gauging which serve their ambitions and which are holding them back. Emphasizing strategic relationships, communication and the elements of executive presence, she writes in an encouraging tone with a refreshing lack of blame, making this a satisfying read for women stuck in middle management limbo. (Nov.)

DePorre, noted stock market investor and writer for TheStreet.com and RealMoney.com, offers advice to small investors. The key to maximizing assets, he says, is shark investing—protecting capital while aggressively pursuing profits. Small investors' quickness and flexibility is a powerful advantage that they should exploit. But most small investors are passive, DePorre claims, holding investments for long-term gains, although this conventional investment wisdom results in only mediocre returns and carries the risk of greater loss. Maintaining the shark analogy, he tackles topics such as the myths of Wall Street, understanding market dynamics, portfolio management and how to put everything together, offering cogent, practical advice. Graphs and charts illustrate key points, in addition to a useful glossary. But the shark theme gets old quickly and makes otherwise sound advice appear gimmicky. However, for first-timers planning to enter the market or those hoping to improve their results, DePorre's advice will be a welcome guide. (Nov.)

The threats to the Bill of Rights cited by the late populist gadfly Ivins and Texas journalist Dubose (coauthors of Bushwhacked) in this scattershot survey run the gamut from physical to political violations. Dire indeed were the infringements of rights endured by Murat Kurnaz, an innocent German Muslim of Turkish descent held as an enemy combatant by the U.S. military for five years and subjected to waterboarding and electroshock. The Dover, Pa., school board's effort to insinuate intelligent design into biology courses has been much covered, though perhaps less bluntly than here (the defense lawyers “just weren't as smart” as those for the plaintiffs). As for the Second Amendment, the authors castigate President Bush for being too protective of the right to bear arms. In between there are mentions of journalists jailed for shielding sources, librarians gagged by Kafkaesque government secrecy rules and a slew of citizens arrested for peaceably protesting in the vicinity of the president. (Many of these cases were quickly resolved once the ACLU got involved.) If, as Ivins and Dubose hint, there's a concerted assault on our freedoms, there 's still plenty of ineptitude: in one instance they cite, the feds accidentally sent top secret records of illegal electronic surveillance of suspected terrorists to the suspects' lawyers. (Oct. 23)

The latest from Renehan, author most recently of a much-praised biography of another titan of 19th-century business, Jay Gould, is a thorough look at Cornelius Vanderbilt (1794–1877), who rose from nothing to amass one of the great fortunes in American history (“more than $158 billion” in 2005 dollars) in the burgeoning steamship and railroad industries. A brilliant, vicious businessman with little education, manners or patience for fools—including his long-suffering wife and 14 children—Vanderbilt makes an almost prototypical figure of pure American laissez-faire entrepreneurship. Unfortunately, for significant portions of this bio, the man gets lost behind the icon. Though Renehan's writing proves colorful, insightful and efficient in describing Vanderbilt's spirited early adventures taking on the steamship monopolies of former senator Aaron Ogden and others, the middle third of the book is too often bogged down in details that will appeal mainly to the business-minded—an endless cascade of ships (and their vital stats), routes and dollar amounts—and overshadow both narrative and character. Still, Vanderbilt's personal life is fascinating; highlights include the Vanderbilts' grand tour of Europe, his lifelong penchant for prostitutes (including the Woodhull sisters, whom Vanderbilt made the first female brokers on Wall Street) and the syphilis-induced madness that plagued his final years—material new in this biography and a testament to Renehan's typically assiduous research. (Oct.)

The most memorable photographs from America's recent explorations of space have been taken by the Hubble space telescope and the Huygens mission to Saturn. But as the editors of this lavishly illustrated coffee-table volume demonstrate, in the early years of the space program, the camera's blinking eye captured human beings. Dick, NASA's chief historian, and his NASA colleagues offer images of the crew-cut young hot rods of the Mercury and Gemini programs before they became household names, along with a young test pilot named Neil Armstrong in 1956 operating a simulator of the X-15 hypersonic aircraft. Photographs capture the grandeur of the mammoth Saturn rockets blasting off, as well as the tragedy of the fire-charred Apollo 1 capsule. NASA's engineers and technicians receive their due, shown putting equipment and astronauts through their paces. In the post-Apollo years, the almost forgotten Skylab is memorialized, as well as missions to build the International Space Station and the space shuttle program. The book concludes with pictures of the outer reaches of the solar system and stunning vistas light-years away. NASA staff have annotated the photographs with informative miniessays documenting the history of the agency and its mission. Space buffs and their children will thrill to these photos. (Oct.)

Though Moynahan (The British Century) covers only the last century, he persuasively argues that, for the French, history never dies. Left and Right still continue, for instance, to hurl accusations at each other over the late–19th-century Dreyfus affair. Moynahan traces this sense of radicalism and reactionism to the undying influence of the Revolution: “Nothing... has weaned the French from” it. Unfortunately, for all the talk of liberty, equality, fraternity, as Moynahan points out, there is no mention of justice and legality. Hence France's reliance on extraparliamentary and extrajudicial protest to decide policy. Still, he says, the once-infectious brilliance of Gallic style and culture more than compensated for the occasional riot. Today, mourns Moynahan, a former foreign correspondent for the London Sunday Times, the once passionate French “are tending to the sclerotic, hidebound, dull”—a result of their country trying to fit in with the rest of Europe. It's uncommon to see an author encouraging the French to stand out more, rather than less. This volume, with its well-chosen and rarely seen photographs, and its brisk, efficient historical narrative covering the country's social, political, intellectual and economic life, serves admirably as a primer for tourists, students and those seeking to understand France and the French. 200 b&w illus. (Oct. 16)

Drawing on the Library of Congress's 4.8 million maps and 60,000 atlases, this is an overview of cartography in different times and cultures. Veteran picture editor Virga upends our notion of maps as two-dimensional representations of physical spaces by presenting depictions of imaginative or spiritual territory: a 17th-century “map of the soul” has five entry points, each corresponding to one of the five senses. And while we're accustomed to maps being oriented north, Islamic and some other cartographers oriented their maps south, as in an eye-opening 1996 “Upside Down World Map” made in Australia that shows the “down under” continent approximately where we usually see Greenland. Virga provides historical, sociological and anthropological background to each map. Captions for the plates are so small as to be almost unreadable, making it difficult to follow Virga's interpretations of the maps. Still, this is one of those rare coffee-table books that deserves to be read, that repeatedly delights the eye while informing the mind about the rich variety of humans' attempts to orient themselves in the world. 201 color illus. (Oct.)

The second memoir from record-industry vet Mansfield (The Beatles, the Bible and Bodega Bay), a “simple look at a complex happening,” recounts his overwhelmingly positive experiences working with the Fab Four (and others) as they put together their late-career masterpiece The White Album. Mansfield relates how a lucky break in the 1960s took him from promotions executive for Hollywood's Capitol Records to U.S. manager of Beatles-owned Apple Records. One of the few Americans allowed into the group's inner circle, Mansfield presents revealing one-on-one time with each band member, yielding insight beyond their public personas. He notes, for instance, that “mere words can't explain how intimidating” John Lennon and Yoko Ono were. Though he provides his side of artistic debates (should “Hey Jude” or “Revolution” be the first Apple single?), and eyewitness accounts of key Beatles moments (including the group's final public performance atop the label's London headquarters), Mansfield misses numerous opportunities to provide insider details and to comment on the progress (or lack thereof) in the recording industry; further, Mansfield's awkward writing style—clumsy metaphors and alliteration, short chapters and confusing chronology—gives the work an amateurish feel. As Mansfield notes in the foreword, this book is “something to enjoy because of its simplicity”: engaging but hardly essential reading for the casual fan. (Oct. 30)

In this mouthwatering debut cookbook, Spicer, noted chef and proprietor of New Orleans's Bayona and Herb-saint, offers a vibrant look at the diversity and breadth of her local cuisine. With more than 170 recipes ranging from Cajun-spiced Pecans and Classic N'Awlins Shrimp Boil to Spicy Thai Salad with Shrimp, Pork, and Crispy Rice Noodles, Spicer highlights the range of the region's cuisine. Shellfish appear in several recipes such as Poached Oysters with Leeks and Bacon, and Shrimp and Tomato Bisque. Sandwiches, gumbos and desserts are also given ample attention. Throughout, Spicer provides brief but helpful descriptions of unusual ingredients such as filé powder and less common techniques like cold smoking. The must-try “Killer Cocktails” section (to-go cup not included) and “Spicer Pantry” list of important tools and ingredients will make any cook happy. This comprehensive guide to New Orleans cuisine will whet the appetite and please the palate. 86 color photos not seen by PW. (Nov.)

cofounder of the Museum of the American Cocktail, Wondrich delivers a well-researched chronicle of “Professor” Jerry Thomas's life and times as late 19th-century bartender extraordinaire. From gold rush saloons in San Francisco to last calls in lower Manhattan, Thomas collected material for The Bartender's Guide, the seminal 1862 collection of cocktail recipes. Wondrich offers up 100 classic cocktails from Thomas's guide and other period sources, along with 16 new drinks that recall those golden days. Old-time tools, ingredients and measurements are conveniently converted to their contemporary equivalents, as julep strainers and toddy sticks are hard to come by. Fortunately, many of the concoctions transcend time in their simplicity. General Harrison's Egg Nogg, for example, calls for hard cider, sugar, an egg and some “lumps of ice.” For the newly minted offerings, Julie Reiner of New York's Flatiron Lounge conjures up a Cherry Smash that includes brandied cherries, cognac and Orange Curaçao, and Wondrich weighs in with a glass of rye, simple syrup and Angostura bitters, which he calls a Tombstone. The result is a lovely homage to Thomas's indomitable spirits. B&w illus. (Nov.)

Brooklyn-born Yard worked her way up to reign as Hollywood and Beverly Hills queen of sweet. Executive pastry chef of Puck's Spago empire, she annually creates 1,700 or so perfect desserts for the Governors Ball following the Oscars, such as mousse-filled chocolate boxes on power-painted red carpets the year Julia Roberts won for Erin Brockovich. But Yard hasn't forgotten the rapturous tastes of her childhood; along with celeb-studded, look-at-me tales of her lofty successes, she offers tender memories and recipes for such favorites as Italian bakery Rainbow Cookies. Yard actually delivers what every cookbook promises: news for the professional and foolproof secrets for the avid amateur. From her finger-stirred sugar–water–corn syrup caramel to her assembly-line masterpieces, every ingredient is necessary and every direction makes sense. Fruit desserts, her special passion, transport the reader to Eden. Comprehensive, well-organized and meaningfully illustrated, Yard's book may be the new dessert bible. Color photos not seen by PW. (Nov.)

Kornfeld (The Voluptuous Vegan) focuses on holidays reflecting America's multicultural society. For each celebration Kornfeld offers a vegetarian entree, a fish or poultry dish, numerous sides and dessert, all designed “to leave us feeling energetic and nourished after the meal as well as delighted during the experience.” The Hanukkah menu turns traditional potato pancakes into light, full-flavored Celery Root–Apple Latkes with Sage. For Kwanzaa, Ethiopian cuisine contributes the spicy warmth of Doro We't (Chicken Stew). Chinese New Year features Sesame Noodles with Wilted Napa Cabbage, with long noodles to bring long life. Dessert for a sumptuous Valentine's Day is Fallen Lemon Ricotta Soufflés, and for a Greek inspired Easter, Baklava Cups with Almond-Vanilla Tapioca Pudding and Strawberry Rhubarb Compote. Kornfeld's directions are easy to follow, and her multiday time lines for each holiday feast help to create a more relaxed experience in the kitchen. These unique and inspiring recipes make it easy to “infuse your food with intention and cook joyfully.” (Nov.)

Ruhlman's slim 12th book, inspired by Strunk and White's classic The Elements of Style, would more accurately have been titled “Selected Elements of French Cooking.” Organized in dictionary format, the book offers short definitions of culinary terms most likely to be encountered in a Continental restaurant kitchen: à la ficelle, jus lié, lardo, mise en place, oblique cut, oignon piqué, rondeau, roulade. Entries for ladle, rolling pin and other common implements seem almost superfluous, while international items such as wok, tandoor, udon and cardamom are nowhere to be found (though to be fair, nam pla, kimchi and umami are included). An opening eight-page section announces, with finger wagging, that “veal stock is the essential” and discourses on eggs, salt and kitchen tools. Ruhlman (The Soul of a Chef) is an elegant writer and the entries he does include can be useful and sometimes entertaining. The real problem is the idiosyncratic, highly personal approach: you just don't know what you'll find in this book and what you won't. (Nov.)

Esposito (Ciao Italia Pronto!), public TV's reassuring face of Italian cooking, is an ideal guide to the appealing world of Italian comfort foods. This slim volume provides main-dish recipes that can be fixed in an unhurried afternoon. Each chapter takes a primary ingredient (fish, meat, pasta, vegetables or fruit) as the base for a stew or casserole, usually adding liberal amounts of eggs, butter and cheese. Without Esposito's confident voice and knack for careful visual demonstration, the written instructions may occasionally seem vague, but other than a few surprises, such as lamb and dandelion casserole, most of the dishes are familiar entries from the Italian canon: Lasagne con Carciofi e Ricotta, Chicken Tetrazzini, Pepperoni Rossi alla Napoletano (stuffed red bell peppers). Some, like chicken pot pie or ham and broccoli casserole, seem positively Middle America. The hearty selection is nourishing if not exciting and will be welcomed by Esposito's fans as well as busy cooks who appreciate the “fix it-and-forget it” model. Color photos not seen by PW. (Nov.)

San Francisco chef Falkner, a former art school student, thinks of dessert as an art form. For those who don't want to wait over an hour at her famed Hayes Valley restaurant/bakery Citizen Cake for her unique “dessert landscapes” and stunning parfaits, Falkner has penned home-kitchen versions of her edible masterpieces. Before diving into balsamic-apple reduction, eggless lemon curd and Concord grape tapioca, Falkner primes readers on ingredients and equipment. Though most recipes include “minimalist versions,” this book is most geared toward seasoned bakers who won't quail at suggested time lines starting a month in advance or five-page instructions for Tiramisushi—cocoa roulade sponge cake with marsala mascarpone filling and mocha-rum dipping sauce, to be consumed via biscotti chopsticks. Amateurs may prefer to spend time at the back of the book with the somewhat more manageable recipes for cupcakes and drinks. Color photographs and anime-style drawings help capture the magic of Falkner's desserts, extravagant and emblematic of her commitment to “balance and restraint.” (Oct.)

Peterson's masterful survey of kitchen skills is a refreshing dose of tradition for anyone weary of quick-and-simple recipe books. The substantial volume is replete with step-by-step color photos, often 10 to 15 per recipe or process, that show the stages of a steak's doneness or how to make napoleons. The immense store of “recipes to learn by” is arranged partly by course and partly by main ingredient, with each section proceeding through many of his 10 basic techniques. Peterson is careful to include a range of dishes for every skill level, and cooks with any amount of experience will appreciate the numerous boxes that highlight preparation tips and tricks. Dominated by recipes like Fish Meunière and Boeuf à la Bourguignonne and with a prodigious chapter on sauces, the book feels like an old-fashioned French culinary education slightly updated with some nominally international dishes (Lamb Korma, Chiles Rellenos with Tomatillo Sauce), an attribute that may turn off some modern-minded cooks, but will reward those keen to absorb Peterson's deep knowledge of food and well-honed explanations for how best to prepare it. Color photos not seen by PW. (Oct.)

Economist and New York Times columnist Krugman's stimulating manifesto aims to galvanize today's progressives the way Barry Goldwater's The Conscience of a Conservative did right-wingers in 1964. Krugman's great theme is economic equality and the liberal politics that support it. “America's post-war middle-class society” was not the automatic product of a free-market economy, he writes, but “was created... by the policies of the Roosevelt Administration.” By strengthening labor unions and taxing the rich to fund redistributive programs like Social Security and Medicare, the New Deal consensus narrowed the income gap, lifted the working class out of poverty and made the economy boom. Things went awry, Krugman contends, with the Republican Party's takeover by “movement conservatism,” practicing a politics of “deception [and] distraction” to advance the interests of the wealthy. Conservative initiatives to cut taxes for the rich, dismantle social programs and demolish unions, he argues, have led to sharply rising inequality, with the incomes of the wealthiest soaring while those of most workers stagnate. Krugman's accessible, stylishly presented argument deftly combines economic data with social and political analysis; his account of the racial politics driving conservative successes is especially sharp. The result is a compelling historical defense of liberalism and a clarion call for Americans to retake control of their economic destiny. (Oct.)